‘I know, Alf, I know. You don’t have to explain, but let me tell you something: I think you’re really brave. You should be proud of yourself. You’ve conquered things you didn’t think you would … And, Alf, no matter what happens, never ever forget I love you. Always hold on to that.’ She stretched across, kissing him gently on his cheeks, once more having to close her eyes and fighting back her tears as a wave of love for Alfie crashed in on her and it was another couple of moments before she eventually opened them and said, ‘Do you want to wait another minute?’

‘No, let’s do this. I’m ready.’

44

At the entrance of the old barn, Alfie could see the place was well lit and a crowd of men stood or milled around.

‘Ticket.’ The man at the doorway stared at Alfie. He was well built and looked like he was in his mid-sixties, with deep-set eyes and a pockmarked face, and he blocked Alfie’s way, repeating what he’d just said. ‘Ticket.’

Alfie tightened his fist in his pocket. Everything in him wanted to throttle the man, but instead he pulled out the blue dummy along with the blue ribbon from his pocket, passing it to the man who nodded and stepped out of the way.

Alfie walked in and was greeted by smiles and nods from the other men who looked just like him. Just like his neighbour. Just like his barber. Just like the man on the street. And it made him want to throw up. He wanted to scream. He wanted to take the gun that was in the back of the car and blow them all away, but that wouldn’t save Taylor, and that’s what he was here to do.

He could feel the sweat dripping down his back as he looked around. The old crumbling walls of the barn decorated with fairy lights and paper lampshades, a wooden table full of bottles of wine and paper cups, a murmur of chatter all around; so normal, all so seemingly innocent, yet so twisted and dark.

Alfie walked to the back of the barn, and although he knew it was a cold and chilly night, he felt like he was burning up. He pulled at his shirt, trying to loosen an already loose top, and wiped the perspiration from his brow.

‘Are you new?’

Alfie spun round and came face-to-face with a cheerful-looking man in his late forties, smartly dressed, with olive skin, and wearing a wedding band.

The room began to spin and Alfie reached out and leant on the damp, stone wall for support. ‘Excuse me?’