Jerome’s car wasn’t what she’d expected. It was a battered and rusty plum-coloured Honda that looked like someone’s nan’s car. If she hadn’t been so terrified she would have smiled. Jerome was sitting in the driver’s seat glaring at her, and the expression on his face was enough to make Georgia wee herself, just a little bit. She turned to the boy on the bike and said quietly, ‘He’s not going to hurt me, is he?’

The boy grinned, made a gun shape with his fingers, pointing them at her and mouthing ‘Pop pop,’ then cycled off. Georgia watched him go with a pang of almost regret. She was on her own.

Jerome wound down the window – the car was too old for electric windows.

‘Get in, sugar-tits,’ he said, flinty-eyed, gesturing to the passenger seat.

Georgia opened the door, glancing down at her pale peach short tracksuit bottoms to check that the bit of wee wasn’t visible on the crotch. Could dogs smell human pee? ‘Your dog won’t attack me, will it?’

‘She. You don’t call RiRi it.’

‘Sorry. Will she?’

Jerome shrugged and turned round to address the dog, which sat malevolently on the back seat. ‘Not unless I tell her to.’

She slid hesitantly into the car, closed the door and sat with her back pressed against it, shrinking as far away from Jerome and the dog – softly growling – as she could. The car’s interior stank of weed, wet dog, cigarettes and Jerome’s cloying aftershave. She wondered what songs her family would play at her funeral. Goodbye Yellow Brick Road would be a good one. Her mum used to sing it to her when she was a baby.

‘I’m really sorry, Jerome, but I promise I’m going to pay you back. It won’t take long, I had a bit of a hold up because my parents won’t let me get my savings out of the bank, but right, seriously, I know how to get my hands on a ton of money. I might need your help, but if you help me, we could split it, so you’d actually end up with, like, twenty times more than I owe you . . .’

Jerome raised one artfully shaved eyebrow. ‘This better be good, bitch, ’cos I am well running out of patience here.’

Georgia took a deep breath – which she immediately regretted, because of the smell. ‘I’m just gonna wind down the window, OK Jerome? I’m feeling a bit faint.’

The fresh air calmed her slightly. She had a moment of doubt – was she crazy, admitting to Jerome what she’d done? But she had no choice. Best just to come out with it.

‘I kidnapped Alice’s sister, for the reward, so I could pay you back,’ she said in a rush to the air-freshener swinging from the rear view mirror.