Nobody else noticed, but Caroline was perceptive. She was also used to Shazza’s ways from being in prison with her previously. Caroline instinctively felt that something wasn’t right. Curious, she turned her head and her eyes followed Shazza as she passed them.

When Shazza thought no one was watching, she tapped Denise on the arm and said something. Caroline couldn’t hear what it was, but she noticed the hard lines around Shazza’s mouth and the way her brow furrowed. She and Denise exchanged knowing looks. Then Denise nodded back at Shazza and her face broke out into a sly grin. They didn’t spot Caroline watching them but Adele did.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.

‘Nothing,’ said Caroline. ‘I’m just checking what that lot are up to, that’s all.’

‘They seemed OK,’ said Anna, and Adele and Cheryl nodded their agreement.

‘Yeah, it’s probably just my imagination,’ said Caroline.

‘What is?’ asked Adele.

‘Oh, nothing. I suppose I’m just finding it a bit too good to be true since they’ve started being nice again.’

The deliberate lie tripped off Caroline’s tongue but she knew it wasn’t her imagination. It looked to her as though Shazza and Denise were scheming.

But there was nothing that Caroline could actually pinpoint. It was just a bad feeling and one that she wasn’t ready to share with her friends yet. She didn’t want to worry them unduly. Besides, with nothing concrete to tell them, they might just think she was being paranoid. So, she decided to wait until she found out a little more.

*

Peter, Glynn and Mike arrived at the George and Dragon pub in the city centre half an hour after closing time. The brakes of Peter’s flash BMW screeched to a halt as they pulled up outside the building. He took his keys from the ignition and they got out of the car.

They were dressed casual but smart. Peter wore an expensive leather jacket, and Glynn and Mike wore tailored jackets with T-shirts underneath, a look made fashionable by the TV show Miami Vice.

Most of the customers had gone. There were just a few stragglers still clutching their pints while the bar staff walked around collecting glasses and encouraging them to drink up.

As Peter and his men crossed the pub, the landlord, Pat, looked at them from behind the bar. He greeted them but couldn’t hide his fear; his shoulders were scrunched a little too high, his eyes were wide and his muscles tensed.

‘Alright, Pat?’ Peter greeted as they approached the bar. ‘Shall we go through?’

The landlord put down the cloth he had been using to wipe the bar and led the way through to the back room.

‘You got the cash?’ asked Peter as soon as they were in the back room.