‘I’m not using my phone because I know what the pigs are like; they’ll trace it. I’m not stupid, Mum!’ She didn’t mention George, or the fact he’d banned them from any other contact, or using social media, bribing them with cash.

The conversation went on and George indicated for her to hurry it along.

‘I don’t have to tell you why I went to a party, it was just a thing. No, I don’t know an old man who died in a crash,’ she said.

George slid his hand across his throat in warning and stood in the middle of the room, animated and stressed, like a half drunk dad on Christmas day playing charades. Chloe got the message and said her goodbyes.

‘Well done,’ George said to Chloe. ‘Right, Sasha, not as long. Don’t give away details, just act normal, and if that means having a shouting match, then so be it, but no details,’ he said.

Sasha nodded and called her mother.

It was a similar exchange, and George watched the youngster take control of her mother over the phone. It told him more about the girl in a short minute than anything he could have read in a school report or by looking at her social media. These girls were used to going it alone. They were survivors; independent, and learning what it meant to be alone far too young. He thought about his own daughter again and how innocent she appeared next to these two girls.

Depressingly, they both did an excellent job.

George knew that what he was doing was simply a holding exercise. It wouldn’t keep the authorities away for ever, but it was all he could achieve under the circumstances. Should things get out of hand and Vivienne’s plan not work out, and Bart’s name didn’t disappear out of the press, then he knew that Vivienne might change tack, and he was undecided, as yet, how far he was willing to go to protect her. But, equally, he knew it might be taken out of his hands. He looked at the girls as they took apart their phones, having been instructed to do so. He’d tried his best not to connect with them as human beings. He’d tried his hardest not to engage with them as real people, but it was impossible.

Secretly, he admitted to himself that he was developing a kind of paternal protective attitude towards them, and every time he asked them to do something for him, he cared more. They were surprisingly good company, and for the first time in years, he felt like something approaching a real father, and he dared not think of what Vivienne might ask him to do next.

Chapter 45