Charlie looked at Alfie evenly, wondering whether or not to tell him all he knew about Franny, not that he knew an awful lot; Shannon hadn’t known much and Ma had been pretty secretive, calling him up to ask him to leave it all down to her, and although he hadn’t had time to ask her exactly what her plan was, he knew when it came to his sister it would be bound to be about money. For Ma, money was oxygen.

But then, if Alfie thought that it was all right to come around reeking of attitude then it was well in his rights to wipe the smile off his face. So maybe although he wouldn’t tell him everything, he would just dangle a carrot, or rather dangle a word. One word …

‘Bree.’

As Charlie had thought, Alfie’s face dropped.

‘Bree? What do you know about Bree? And what’s she got to do with Franny? What the fuck are you talking about?’

Seeing Alfie on the back foot, Charlie shrugged, amused. It was only this year that he and Alfie had started speaking again after a very long time, twenty-odd years in fact, and he liked it that Alfie didn’t know much about him anymore. Unlike him who knew everything there was to know – all about Alfie’s relationship with Bree, courtesy of Ma – with Alfie not having a clue he was related to her and in a roundabout way, related to Bree as well. And that certainly amused him.

Knowing more than his friends knew, his enemies knew, always put him in a position of strength. That was the way he liked it, and he was going to keep it that way. ‘Oh nothing, Alf, just something that Shannon said, though you can take it with a pinch of salt what some crackhead says, can’t you?’

Alfie stared coldly. ‘Can you, because either you’re playing games with me or you’re not telling me something.’

Just as coldly, Charlie, who was certainly not going to tell Alfie anything else, said, ‘What is it you wanted anyway, Alf? Because I feel my time is being wasted here.’

Alfie strode back across to where Charlie was standing, his eyes full of hatred. ‘Tell me about the fire, Charlie. Tell me why you did it.’

Charlie turned his head to one side. ‘Me? You think I started the fire?’

Alfie’s tone was dangerously low. ‘I don’t think, I know you did, and in my mind, that’s crossing a line. Everything has a consequence, and you’re just about to find that out.’

Aware his employees must be otherwise occupied, leaving him alone, Charlie began to backpedal. ‘Listen, Alf, you’ve got this all wrong. I didn’t even know that someone had started the fire. I thought it was an accident. That’s what I heard anyway.’

‘Don’t lie to me, Charlie.’