‘How could you do it? How could you sell your own flesh and blood? How could you sell your little boy?’

Alan screamed. ‘What difference does it make to you?’

Enraged, Alfie bellowed back. ‘Are you having a fucking laugh? You do know Barry’s auctioning him off?’

Confused, Alan stammered. ‘Yeah … yeah, of course I do. What else would he do?’

‘But that’s your kid!’

‘So?’

Incensed, Alfie rained down harder blows, which made Alan scream out in agony as he felt his front teeth being jammed back by the force of the punches, with a pain shooting through his eye like a needle had been thrust straight through it.

Panting, Alfie stood up, still attacking Alan with his feet as he kicked him in the side.

‘Why didn’t you tell me that Taylor was your son before? Why didn’t you mention anything about him?’

Terrified, Alan muttered, blood and saliva bubbling and frothing out of his mouth. ‘You didn’t ask, and what difference would it make? And besides, you were looking to find where Barry was.’

‘You’re scum, you know that? Scum.’

‘I don’t understand, what have I done wrong? I told you where to find Sally, didn’t I? I helped you out. I told you she would know where Barry was. It’s not my fault if she didn’t tell you.’ As Alan stopped talking, Alfie grabbed hold of a clump of his hair, tearing it as hard as he could away from Alan’s scalp.

‘Seriously? You think this is just about me finding Barry?’

‘Well if it’s not then what is it about?’

Alfie rubbed his chin in shocked bewilderment. ‘You really don’t get it, do you?’

‘No, cos I’ve told you everything I know.’

Alfie, still holding Alan’s hair, shook his head. ‘It’s not about that now. It’s about Taylor. It’s all about Taylor now.’

Alan lowered his voice, his eyes becoming dilated. He licked his lips. ‘Are you going to buy him then?’

‘What?’

‘You are, aren’t you? You’re just like me. We have the same tastes.’ Inexplicably, Alan grinned and was immediately kicked hard in the back by Alfie.

‘What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not like you and never will be. You make me sick to my stomach, Alan, and now I’ll tell you how it’s going to go.’

Alfie walked over to the curtains and pulled them tighter together, causing clouds of dust to rise from them. He walked over to the door and shut it before turning to look at Alan and pulling out a rope from his coat pocket as he did so.

On seeing the rope, Alan, still in pain, began to back away fearfully, shuffling along the floor.

‘What … what are you going to do?’