‘Shall I tell you something, Donna? If I told you the half of it you’d wet your tiny scrap of knickers, and probably follow through as well. I ain’t told you nothing yet. Nothing! And, yes, I do wish you’d fuck off out of all this. Georgio must be going into fucking premature senility to want you on this team. But I promise you this much now: I won’t open me trap again. Let’s see how you get on with the Jocks. Then afterwards me and you can sort out once and for all whether you can kick all this or whether you want to sit out the last dance. How’s that?’

Alan stared into the miserable face before him, hating what he was doing yet unable to stop himself. The thought of this naive girl-woman coming up against Lewis and others like him was anathema to Alan. He knew what they were really capable of. He knew exactly what was on the line here - not only the violence but the prison sentence they could end up with, and he knew she wouldn’t last five minutes in a police station cell, let alone Holloway or even Cookham Wood. It was laughable, excruciatingly laughable, that Georgio could put this woman’s life and liberty on the line and still sleep at night. But then, he had always been a selfish bastard, only this Donna didn’t seem aware of that fact. Alan felt a strong urge to tell her all he knew, but buttoned his lip.

Mainly because she wouldn’t believe him, but also, he admitted to himself, because he admired her spunk. Well, he had done his bit, he reasoned, tried to stop her from becoming involved in every way he could. The ball was well and truly in her court now. He sighed deeply, restraining an urge to apologise as he saw the fine lines around her mouth, the deep smudges under her eyes. But he consoled himself with the fact that it was Georgio who had put them there, not him. He would look out for her, it was all he could do. But at this moment in time, if Georgio was in front of him, he’d hammer him to within an inch of his life.

He put the car into gear and pulled back on to the motorway. As he turned on his CD player, the car was immediately filled with the sounds of Freddie Jackson singing ‘You Are My Lady’. Donna stared once more at the shimmering landscape. The day was suddenly overcast, the sun hiding behind thick cloud. She swallowed back frustration and tears and made a resolution.

She would show Alan Cox, and Georgio.

She would show them all.

Exactly what she was going to show them, she wasn’t sure.

They drove towards the Scottish hills in silence, Freddie Jackson’s haunting voice drowning out the purr of the car’s engine.