Irena came back a few minutes later with a plate of food, and Frank picked at it as she took a seat on the sofa between the men. Karel draped his arm around her and reached for the TV remote, and all three settled down to watch the film he chose.

Out of the corner of his eye, Frank studied Irena’s face as she watched the on-screen antics of a baby-faced boy trying to outwit two hapless burglars. Her entire demeanour had changed since the arrival of the men, and he could see no trace of the contented girl he had left a few short hours earlier. He didn’t know which version was the real Irena – or how she had managed to fool him so completely. The bruises had definitely been real, though, because he’d seen them up close and had watched them fade. But had she voluntarily taken a savage beating in order to make her story more realistic, or had these men beaten her to force her into doing it?

He so wanted it to be the latter, but seeing her like this, sitting between the man she had said was her brother, and the one she’d claimed had held her prisoner and forced her into prostitution, Frank had to accept that it had all been an act – and he had fallen for it hook, line and sinker. And, worse, he’d fallen for her, destroying his relationship with his children in the process.

Too disgusted with himself to stomach any more food, Frank put his fork down and cleared his throat.

‘I need to go to the toilet.’

‘You’ll have to wait,’ Nick said without taking his eyes off the TV.

‘Take him,’ Karel ordered at the same time.

‘I don’t need an escort,’ Frank said, standing up. ‘I’m hardly going to do anything stupid and put my family in danger, am I?’

‘Better safe than sorry,’ Karel replied, clicking his fingers at Nick.

Grumbling that he didn’t see why he had to do it, Nick grudgingly got up and, pulling his handgun out of the waistband of his jeans, jammed the barrel into Frank’s back and shoved him out of the room.

Upstairs, Frank hesitated when Nick made to follow him into the bathroom.

‘I wouldn’t if I were you,’ he said, rubbing his stomach. ‘My gut’s churning, and I reckon it’s going to be pretty disgusting.’

Nick pulled a face and took a step back.

‘Get on with it, then. But don’t try anything, ’cos I’ll be out here listening.’

Frank nodded and closed the door. Alone at last, he leaned his back against the wood and inhaled deeply, soaking up the familiar scents of the soap and the pine toilet cleaner in an effort to clear the smell of the cigarettes and the men’s combined body odours out of his nostrils.