Dolly stood up and went to her large leather-look handbag that had caused many jocular comments from Georgio over the years. It was a shabby affair with worn plastic handles and Dolly took it everywhere with her. She often joked that her whole life was in that bag, from her birth certificate to her Post Office savings books. Opening it, she took out two magazines. Walking back to Donna, she placed them on the table before her.

One cover showed a girl of about twelve. Her face had the bland complacency that is the mistaken stereotype of Oriental womanhood. A man stood behind her, his hand clasping a barely formed breast. The girl’s face was covered in thick make-up, making her look like a parody of a woman; her vagina, in perfect pink and olive colours, was devoid of pubic hair.

Donna looked down at the picture and felt the revulsion inside herself. Dolly placed the other magazine on top of it and Donna shook her head in bewilderment.

This one showed a small boy, Asian-looking, with large liquid black eyes staring into the camera. His fear was evident, as was his thin naked body. Two men were beside him, two large-bellied men whose faces were obscured by the camera. From the angle of the photograph it was quite clear what they intended to do to him.

‘Where the hell did these come from?’ Donna’s voice was a whisper, because without being told she knew the answer.

‘Both these mags were in the garage. There were stacks of them in boxes, along with two boxes of computer discs. Paddy picked the boxes up but not before I had slipped out one of each magazine. I don’t know why I did it, but I did. Oh, let me explain. Paddy rang me and told me to go into the garage and place the boxes outside for him. He told me I wasn’t to let on to you - well, we all knew that. Georgio always kept everything from you so that wasn’t unusual. It was only that the boxes weren’t sealed, you see. That’s what made me look inside. I wish to hell I’d never been near or by them.

‘Anyway,’ Dolly went on, ‘I put them out of my mind, convinced myself that it was something to do with Paddy and nothing to do with Georgio. I couldn’t bring myself to believe that he could be a party to this . . .’ she waved her hands at the magazines . . . ‘this filth. If you look inside those magazines it would turn your stomach. Little children, Donna, they’re all little children . . .’ Her voice cracked and Donna grabbed at her arm.

‘But what has this to do with Georgio?’ she asked frantically. ‘Why are you showing them to me now?’

‘Because, Donna, the boxes I moved outside for Paddy to pick up were addressed to Georgio Brunos. They had a Liverpool postmark.’