Evan breathed in deeply and pursed his lips thoughtfully as he looked back at his father. Then, nodding, he called, ‘OK, Dad, I’m going. But I’m not to blame for any of this, and I’m not mugging myself off by apologizing for something I didn’t do, so this is the last time you’ll see or hear from me until you come to your senses.’

Frank’s heart was breaking, but he held Evan’s gaze, and shrugged.

‘Fine by me.’

As soon as Evan had driven away, Nick aimed a savage kick at the back of Frank’s thigh, sending him crashing to the ground.

‘Don’t touch his face!’ Karel barked when Nick drew his leg back to kick Frank in the head. ‘His son looked suspicious, and he might come back.’

Reluctantly dropping his foot, Nick pulled out the gun, and dragged Frank up to his feet.

‘Inside, dickhead. And don’t even think about trying to get away again, ’cos you won’t be so lucky next time.’

As he drove away, Evan glanced in the rear-view mirror, but all he could see was the roof of the Transit above the hedge. Something had felt off back there, but he wasn’t sure what his instincts were trying to tell him. He hadn’t expected his dad to welcome him back with open arms given the tense conversation they’d had on the phone the previous day, but the coldness his dad had displayed toward him was totally out of character. And what was the deal with that gobby little twat who’d tried to front up to him? His dad had said he was a friend of Irena and her brother, but he was Mancunian, so it had to be someone she’d met during her marriage – in which case, why hadn’t she gone to him for help when her husband started abusing her?

Those questions aside, the look his dad had given him when he’d told him to leave had been weird – almost, Evan thought, as if he’d been trying to warn him off. And then there was that cut on his head. It definitely hadn’t been fresh, because the blood was dry, so why hadn’t he washed it off?