He shouted over his shoulder. ‘I don’t need this shit now.’

Continuing to run after him, Franny called out, ‘What is wrong with you?’

‘I asked you to leave it. Can’t you just do that one simple thing?’

Catching up, Franny touched Alfie’s back. ‘How can I, when I see you in this state?’

He turned to look at her, fighting the emotions that were overwhelming him. He felt the tightness in the back of his throat as he tried to hold back the tears. It was a joke – he was a bloke and yet here he was standing in the heart of Soho, blubbing like a girl. He couldn’t speak; he just squeezed his eyes tightly, listening to Franny talk, her voice quiet and warm.

‘Oh my God, Alf, please, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on. I want to help you.’

Instead of answering Franny, Alfie pulled out one of the letters from his pocket, handing it over to her. She read it then gazed at him.

‘Alfie, why didn’t you tell me about this before? Is this what it’s all been about?’

Still unable to speak and unable to make eye contact, Alfie nodded as Franny continued to talk.

‘I know that a while ago you said something about a guy being released from prison, but you never told me who it was. Even when you told me, you seemed on edge about it … worried. Do you think it’s from him?’

Alfie’s voice broke. He looked up to the sky feeling the rain beginning to fall. ‘It’s got to be. There’s only one person I’ve ever ratted on … Like I told you before, I ain’t a grass. It’s not usually my thing to go around snaking people out and landing them in prison, and besides, it was a long time ago.’

‘I know! But what I don’t understand is, who is he, Alf? Because this ain’t like you. Not the Alfie I know. Why don’t you just tell me who it is?’

Alfie shook his head. ‘Trust me, it’s best you don’t know.’

‘Well whoever it is, this guy must be a pretty big face to get you acting like this, though you know what I think, Alf? I think that all that gear you’re taking is making you more paranoid – jumpier. It’s making everything seem worse.’