Franny pulled her hand away from Alfie. ‘It means, stop being so naïve. You don’t know everything that goes on and unless you can tell me for certain Barry hasn’t taken Mia, then it’s crazy to rule it out. And even if Barry isn’t the one who actually took her, maybe he knows something about it.’

Alfie shook his head. ‘Why would he know?’

Franny yelled in Alfie’s face, ‘Because the world they live in is a small world! He’d know if a baby had been touted about and sold … So, you need to help me find him, so I can ask him just that.’

Alfie began to back away, thoughts and images running through his mind. He shook his head, terror coming into his eyes. His voice trembled. ‘I can’t, Fran, I just can’t. I can’t do it … I’m sorry, but no.’

Franny grabbed hold of Alfie who shrunk away. Angrily she shook his arm. ‘You’ve got to!’ She paused, knowing that although she wanted to know where Barry was, and she needed Alfie’s help with finding him, she certainly didn’t want Alfie to actually speak to Barry. That was too dangerous. Who knew what he might tell him? Even asking for Alfie’s help was risky but she really didn’t have any other choice.

‘Look, Alf, I understand that you don’t want to talk to Barry or have anything to do with him, and I’m not asking you to, I just need you to help me find him!’

Alfie pushed past Franny, hitting one of the chairs out of the way. He slammed out of the door, striding into the front lounge, which was decorated in grey and silver.

Marching across to the bottle of whiskey on the side, Alfie unscrewed the top and not bothering to get a glass, he drank it down, feeling the burn.

‘Alf, don’t walk away from me!’

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Alfie turned his back on Franny. ‘Leave me alone, Fran.’

Incensed, Franny stormed up to Alfie, her face marked with anger. She snatched the bottle from Alfie’s hand, throwing it down to the side where it smashed, shattering into tiny pieces. ‘I’m not going to leave you alone because I need you to help me.’

Trembling, Alfie stared at her. ‘No, Fran, I can’t do it, and it’s not that I don’t want to, I just can’t, I’m sorry.’

‘What about Mia, Alf?’

‘Look at me, Fran, just the mention of his name makes my head a wreck. I’d be no good to you anyway. You need to get your mate to sort it out. Get her old man to ask about. He’s a face ain’t he? So, he’ll be able to find him just as well as I could.’