Ten minutes later Donna shut the front door behind Laughton and his officers. She watched from her lounge window as the police cars all moved off her drive, shame at what had happened vying with rage inside her. As soon as the last car departed she ran into Georgio’s office. The desk drawer had been forced open and she felt afraid, even though she wasn’t sure why. Dolly stood in the doorway and held out the fax and another bundle of letters.

‘Are these what you’re looking for, Donna?’

She took the papers from Dolly’s outstretched hand. Taking the floppy disc from her own pocket, she held the whole bundle to her chest.

‘Oh, Dolly, thank you.’

Dolly looked into her eyes. Then, shaking her head, she turned away.

‘You’re in over your head, lovie. I’ve seen it coming for weeks.’ Her voice was sad. ‘I’ll make us both a cuppa and then we can get cleared up. Maeve will be here before you know it, and probably Stephen, so be prepared.’

Donna looked down at the papers and the disc. She didn’t know why these were important, but instinctively she felt they were. Sitting on the office chair, she wondered what had happened to her over the last year to make her change so much. Was it because of Georgio or was he just a symptom, not the cause? Whatever had happened she knew one thing now for sure. She was indeed in over her head, and even if she wanted to get out of it all, she couldn’t.

That was the worst of it. She was in for the duration now.

The days of choices were over.

Alan listened to the policeman’s voice and fought down the urge to tell him to shut the fuck up. Instead he murmured the right words. Putting down the phone, he poured himself another scotch and sat by his window, watching the world of Soho coming to life. It seemed a young man by the name of Danny Kilbride had put Georgio’s name up for three robberies in Essex. Alan knew that the boy was lying. What he needed to find out was who the boy was lying for - and why.

His bell rang and he pressed the intercom gingerly, not sure what other surprises the night might hold for him. It was Stephen Brunos and Alan let him in, relieved it wasn’t the police, wondering why he was so sure they would be coming for him.

Stephen looked as suave as ever, only a few tell-tale worry lines across his forehead to show what he really felt.

‘I suppose you’ve heard?’ Alan said. ‘It seems a young feller by the name of Danny Kilbride has put Georgio’s face in the frame. I heard from Jonnie H. tonight that Georgio was to be fitted up but I didn’t think it would happen so fast.’