‘You’re with someone? A man?’ Ruby strains to see into the dingy hallway. There are no gas lamps lit in the house, even though it is growing dark outside.

‘Who told you about it?’

‘Never mind. Have you got a man here?’

‘Not now, no.’

‘Then let me in.’

The door is pulled back. Daisy’s face is still faintly bruised, and her hair is unbrushed. Her collarbones stand prominently above the neckline of her nightgown. She was always on the scrawny side, but is now more flat-chested than ever. She lifts a single candle. The brass wedding ring is loose on her finger. She hasn’t pawned it yet.

‘You can come in for a bit, but someone will be here soon.’

Ruby has been inside Daisy’s house many times before. Daisy was so proud of her home, her belongings, always pleased to show off a new teapot or cushion. She kept it so clean and tidy.

Today, there is nowhere to sit down. There is no furniture. Only a small stool in the kitchen.

Ruby’s nose wrinkles at the smell of musk and sweat.

Daisy plants the candle on the floor.

‘Do you want a drink?’ she asks vaguely, reaching for a bottle and gesturing that Ruby should take the stool.

‘Yeah. Alright.’

Daisy pours neat gin into a glass and hands it to her. ‘It’s all I’ve got.’

‘Thanks.’ Ruby takes a sip and coughs at the roughness of it. This is cheap stuff.

Daisy does not pour herself a glass but takes a swig from the bottle. There are no other glasses, as far as Ruby can see.

‘Have you got any cigarettes, Ruby? I haven’t had a smoke for days.’

Ruby feels inside her handbag – she can barely see in the gloom – and finds her cigarettes and a box of matches. She gives them to Daisy. ‘You keep them.’

‘Thanks.’ Daisy lights up and enjoys the first few draws on her smoke in silence.

‘They took everything.’ She gestures around the empty house. ‘My lovely coats. The car, of course. My jewellery. Hats. Everything. Except the mattress. And that stool.’

‘Shit, Daisy. How much…?’

‘How much did he owe them? Does he owe them still?’ Daisy sniffs, shrugs. ‘A few hundred pounds, he told me. Might be more.’

Ruby says nothing.

‘It was all going to be fine, he said. He had a job – the burglary – that would pay off more than half. He would do another one later. But then he was caught, and he tried to knife that man, and Freddy Moss refused to help him out…’ Her voice drifts away with the smoke.

Freddy Moss had found out. Harry was only alive because he was relatively protected in Pentonville.

‘Who did he owe money to, Daisy? Apart from Moss and the Elephants?’