Alfie frowned. ‘Does that mean Taylor won’t be there?’

‘I don’t know. I’m not sure how it’ll work. But I do know, well according to Charlie, that it’s all going ahead and it’s a genuine sale. No bullshit, no messing about. Barry is looking to earn some money, and using Taylor is perfect for that. He got him cheap, and Alan doesn’t care what happens to him as long as he gets his money for gear … By the way, I forgot to ask, did Alan go for his little trip with your friends?’

Alfie gave Franny the briefest of glances. ‘Yeah, I got a call from them. It all went to plan. They said they made it painful and slow. They also said he cried like a baby, which is pretty ironic considering who he is … rather who he was.’

Franny, pleased at the news, nodded, then turned her attention back to the auction. ‘And are you sure you’re all right that I’m not going to come in with you? The idea of going into that place sickens me.’

‘Yeah of course, I understand. If you wait outside and take all the cars’ registrations as planned, then once we’ve got Taylor, we can send the info on to the police. That way no one who’ll be there tonight will get away with it, but at the same time there won’t be any risk to Taylor. And hopefully, if all goes well, within a couple of hours that boy will be safe for the first time in his life.’

Having driven for over an hour, Franny and Alfie found themselves in Essex. They followed the GPS, which took them through quaint country villages and long winding roads until they got to an old disused farm and warehouse on the outskirts of the village of Boxted, where they drove slowly along Lower Farm Road, looking out for the turning.

They continued along in silence for a few more miles, crossing over the river Stour, heading towards Dedham. Suddenly Alfie slammed on the brakes, peering through the darkness and towards the copse of trees to see a barn lit up.

‘I think that’s it.’

Franny spoke in a whisper. ‘Yeah, I think you could be right … Look, over there, you can see a load of cars.’

Alfie stared but as he did so, a sudden wave of nausea rushed over him. He quickly opened the driver’s door, and retched, vomiting up the contents of his stomach.

‘Alf, are you okay?’

Wiping his mouth with the tissue Franny handed him, Alfie answered quietly, feeling his body tremble. ‘I will be once this is sorted. It’s just difficult because …’ He trailed off.