Feeling his heart begin to race again, Alfie carefully slid his hand behind the bronze clock on the mantelpiece, and pulled out a large jagged knife. He paused, listening again, then made his way slowly around the room, quickly turning off the light, leaving him in darkness save the glowing embers of the fire.

He could feel the tightness in his chest as he gripped the leather handle of the knife. Moving across the room in the darkness, careful to avoid banging into anything, afraid to make a noise, Alfie stiffened as he heard the sound again. Someone was coming. They were getting nearer.

Nervously playing with the knife in his hand, he twirled it around and around in his palm, which was now wet with sweat as he stared into the darkness, just waiting. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, and there it was again. Just outside the door now.

As the door began to open, Alfie pushed himself as far back as he could then without hesitation he jumped forward, grabbing the person in a neck lock, spinning them round and with as much strength as he could, he threw them hard against the wall, kicking at them brutally as they fell to the floor.

In the darkness, Alfie, enraged, slammed their head against the wooden floorboards over and over again at the same time as ignoring the punching and struggling from the person beneath him. With one hand, he grabbed their throat, pushing down hard as he brought the knife to their cheek, pressing it into their flesh. He could hear choking as he held their neck. ‘You haven’t got nothing to say now, have you? Let me show you what happens when you think you can take me on. Thought you could frighten me, did you? Well I’m going …’

‘Alf … Alf …’

Horrified, Alfie suddenly let go, scrabbling back as he dropped the knife, frantically leaping up to turn the light on. ‘Franny? Oh my God, Franny. Jesus, what have I done?’

Sickened at himself, he stood transfixed as Franny rolled around in pain, the small nick on her face oozing with blood. Then shaking himself out of his trance, Alfie dropped to his knees, cradling Franny’s head in his arm as he pulled up her top to reveal the angry bruise on the side of her ribs. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Are you all right? Jesus Christ, I could’ve killed you. What were you thinking of creeping about like that?’

Rubbing her throat, Franny began to sit up, wincing at the pain, her voice croaking from the chokehold as she stared at Alfie in shocked bemusement. ‘Me? What I am doing? Alfie, I live here!’

Turning his shame into anger, Alfie snapped, ‘I know that, but you could’ve been anybody!’

‘Like who? Like who, Alfie?’

Alfie shrugged, not wanting to hold eye contact. ‘I don’t know, like a burglar.’