Surrounded by his men, and looking surprised, Charlie turned around, beads of sweat pricking at his forehead, his overweight body heaving from the exertion.

‘I’ve already told you what the deal is, Alf, it’s non-negotiable. I’m not going to change my mind, but of course if you’ve already made a decision and you know what’s good for you, then I’m all ears.’

Turning pale, Alfie shook his head. ‘It’s not about that.’

Charlie shrugged his shoulders, the weight of his body making it look like a strain. ‘Then what?’

Glancing at Charlie’s men, Alfie stepped closer in, not wanting anyone but Charlie to hear. He spoke in what was almost a whisper. ‘Have you got them? Have you got them as well?’

Unable to fully turn his head to look at Alfie due to how close he was, Charlie, clearly curious whispered back, ‘Got what, Alf?’

‘You know: Have you got them?’

There was a long pause from Charlie before he said, ‘Are you asking what I think you’re asking? You want some young, fresh meat?’

Charlie’s words were like an electric shock to Alfie. He jumped back, staring at him in horror. ‘Jesus Christ, no! Who do you think I am? You know I’m not into that shit.’

Chuckling, Charlie spoke leeringly as he licked his lips. ‘Things change. People change. Tastes change.’

Wiping his face almost as if he could wipe the strain away, Alfie snapped, ‘Well not my tastes, and certainly not for that.’

Stepping back to let a kid on a bicycle go past, Charlie laughed, though his expression showed interest. ‘Then what are you talking about?’

‘I just … I just …’ With his hands in his jacket pockets, Alfie stopped, nervously curling his fingers around one of the anonymous letters he’d received last week. ‘I just … well I just wanted to know if you’d got them as well. If he’d sent …’

‘Got what, Alf? Sent what? For God’s sake, you aren’t making any sense.’

Retreating and feeling overwhelmed, Alfie, unable to bring himself to say what he wanted to, shook his head. ‘You know what, it doesn’t matter.’

Charlie stared at Alfie as he backed away. ‘Are you okay? You don’t look so good. In fact, mate, you look terrible.’

Feeling his heart race, Alfie shrugged. His voice was small. Tight. Strained. ‘I’m fine. Are you? Are you fine?’

‘Well I’m certainly not acting weird, if that’s what you mean.’

Almost in tears, Alfie gave the tiniest of headshakes. ‘You know it’s not, Charlie, but you know exactly what I’m talking about. You know why I’m asking if you’re okay.’