‘Stephen Brunos was out there,’ Donna said into the shocked silence, ‘sorting out the next shipment. That meant making sure the stuff went down the phone lines, to be retrieved this end and put on to disc after disc after disc. I found a projection table a while ago. It started in pounds, single pounds. Then it ran into millions. I thought it was just something Georgio was working out for the building business. It was the floppy discs, Carol. And Davey knows all about it, everything. So does Big Paddy.’

Carol couldn’t, wouldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her face was drained of colour; only her eyes were burning bright.

‘Not my Davey, no way! Georgio, yes, he’d sell his own little boy for a few quid but not my old man. No way. You’ve got this all wrong. No way, I tell you! The hotel in Sri Lanka is just that, a fucking hotel. I don’t know where you get your information from, lady—’

Donna interrupted her again. ‘I have just come back from Sri Lanka, Carol. Listen to me, woman! I know what I saw out there, all right? I know the score.’

Carol was still shaking her head.

‘You’re off your trolley. Davey was right in what he said. You’ve been like a fucking Jonah ever since Georgio got banged up, always sticking your nose into everything . . .’

Donna nodded. ‘That’s why Paddy had to keep an eye on me, ain’t it? That’s why Davey kept an eye on me as well. To stop me finding out about this little lot.’

Carol bellowed. ‘What little lot? I’ve only your word for any of this. I’ve been with Davey for donkey’s years. He hates anything like that. Hates the nonces and the beasts . . .’ Her strident voice broke.

Donna wiped a shaking hand across her forehead. ‘Show her the books Dolly.’

Dolly got up. Going to her large handbag, she removed the books and placed them in front of Carol.

Carol stared down through tear-filled eyes at the faces of the children. She shuddered.

‘This still doesn’t mean my Davey’s involved . . .’

Dolly said quietly, ‘Paddy and Davey turned up here to collect some boxes. I secretly took these out of the boxes before they arrived. Your Davey’s involved, all right. They all are. Scum, the whole lot of them.’

Carol looked down at the books once more. Leaning over the table, Donna turned the pages.

Carol stared at the children arrayed before her, saw the blank faces, the small bodies opened up to the camera, saw the huge hands of faceless men touching them, abusing them . . . and felt the bile rise inside her. All along, she had dreaded something like this. It had always been lurking in the back of her mind.