As he pushed the money into her hand, caught underneath the ten-pound notes was a piece of paper. It fluttered down to the muddy ground. Frowning, Alfie picked it up but when he did so he physically recoiled as if an electric bolt had gone through him. His head swam, and a wave of nausea passed over him. He’d forgotten he had one of the letters in his pocket.

Spotting the change in Alfie’s demeanour, and seeing how ashen he’d suddenly become, Shannon asked, ‘What’s that?’

Beginning to tremble, Alfie rubbed his chest, feeling the familiar tightness return as a cold sweat ran down his back. Scrunching the letter up and pushing it as far down in the pocket of his jeans as possible, Alfie tried to sound as casual as he could. ‘Nothing … it’s … it’s just a letter.’

‘Must be something bad to make you look like that. You’ve gone proper pale, mate. Go on, what is it?’

Glancing back at her, Alfie pulled himself together. ‘Now who’s the nosy one?’

Something like a shy smile touched the corners of Shannon’s mouth. It was the first time anyone had been nice to her in longer than she could remember. In fact, when she really thought about it, apart from Charlie giving her the odd free rock of crack now and then, there’d been no one in her life who had been particularly kind to her. The only thing she remembered of her mother was her being out of it on heroin. And as for her auntie who took her in, well, she would hardly describe her as the warmest of women.

Not wanting to think too much about the past, Shannon turned her attention back to Alfie, wiping her nose on the back of her hand as flakes of dried blood fell out of her nostrils. ‘Suit yourself, don’t tell me then.’

Changing the subject completely, Alfie asked, ‘How old are you anyway?’

Shannon paused, contemplating her reply, before confidently saying, ‘I’m twenty.’

‘You look younger than that.’

Trying to appear casual, Shannon shrugged again. ‘You asked me how old I was, not how old I looked, and I couldn’t care less if you believe me or not.’

Feeling the twinge in his knee from crouching, Alfie stood up. ‘Okay, well if I can’t persuade you to let me buy you a cup of tea, I’ll be off … But look after yourself, little miss nameless, and like I say, I’m Alfie, and if you ever need a chat or just somewhere to have a drink, pop into my club. It’s on Sutton Row. It’s just before you get to the corner of Falconberg Mews … And here, if you won’t take my jacket at least take my jumper. It’s going to be cold today.’