‘You’re going to catch your death. Come on. I picked up something to eat. I know we have to go and see this person tomorrow, but I need you to eat. I’ve got to start looking after you because you’re clearly not doing that yourself.’

Alfie walked to the back of the Porsche, pressing the key button as Franny came around.

Franny immediately froze, staring in horror at the back of the boot. She glanced at Alfie then back at the boot before saying in a tiny whisper, ‘Where are they? Alfie, where did you put them?’

‘What are you talking about, put what?’

Walking even nearer to the boot, Franny continued to stare, realising that somehow Bree’s belongings as well as her own bloodstained clothes she’d worn that day had gone. ‘In the back. There was … there was a black bag full of clothes and a suitcase. Remember, when I was having a shower, I told you I was doing some clothes sorting?’

Alfie shook his head as he lifted the food bags out. ‘I dunno, darlin’, I never saw them in there.’ He shrugged and turned away, heading for the house, but Franny, beginning to panic, grabbed hold of his arm, her eyes full of terror as once more her voice cracked into hysteria. ‘You must’ve seen them, Alf. Where did you put them?’

‘Fran, baby, stop! Stop. Just take a deep breath. What are you getting yourself worked up about? Come on, it’s cold, come on in.’

‘But you must have moved them. Think, Alf, think! Yesterday? Maybe you moved them yesterday?’

Not understanding why Franny was becoming so hysterical, Alfie spoke soothingly. ‘This is the first time I’ve used your car in a while, Fran. Look, you must’ve made a mistake, they’re probably still in the house. And anyway, I thought you said that it was old stuff, so who cares if you don’t know where you put them.’

As Alfie walked away, Franny stood, cold and barefoot in the rain, whispering to herself as she began to tremble violently. ‘I care, Alf. You have no idea how much I care they’ve gone.’

36

The drive to Doncaster on the M1 was long and gave both Alfie and Franny more time to think than they would’ve liked.

‘What have you done, Franny?’ Alfie’s voice broke the silence, and Franny, uncomfortable with the question, turned to look at Alfie as he drove. She tried to keep her voice light as she asked, ‘Done? What do you mean?’

Thinking about the texts he’d been receiving, Alfie asked again, ‘I mean, if you’ve done something, and you were worried to tell me, whatever it is, you can. The point is, look at me: I’ve fucked up so many times in the past myself. Bree …’