‘It was your mum’s idea, not mine. Alec’s had a bit of a breakdown. His nerves. You know.’

Alec, so far as she knew, was always in the throes of some mental crisis or other. ‘What, and you’ve come all the way up here to tell me that?’

All the family knew that Lil’s husband was teetering on a knife-edge. Any bad news, any slight trauma, could send him off into a downward spiral of black despair. Dora could only admire Lil for having the fortitude to live with it.

‘They’ve taken him off to the hospital for a bit. Given him the electric shock treatment.’

‘I’m sorry to hear it,’ said Dora, and she was; Alec was OK. Weak, but OK. ‘What set him off this time?’

‘That copper Donny Maguire beat it out of him, where you were.’

Dora felt a spasm of fear shoot through her. And awful, hideous regret. Poor William. Dickie had busted his legs up. So if Donny thought it was all her fault, she could see why. And now he knew where she was.

‘That would have been bad enough,’ Dad went on. ‘But then Alec crawls home, knocked to fuck by the whole thing, and just outside the gate some other bastard pops up and starts in on him, asking him the same thing. He said he looked like fucking Frankenstein, this bloke. Seven feet tall, scarred all to hell, like a ruddy nightmare. He kicked the shit out of Alec, but Alec swears he didn’t tell where you’d gone. And there’s more.’

‘What?’ asked Dora, turning pale. He’d just described Bruno Graves, Frank’s man.

‘Those poor bloody Maguires. The mother killed herself. Couldn’t get over the youngest boy’s death. She took a dive off the church tower. Dead when she hit the ground.’

Oh no . . .

‘So I’ve come to tell you,’ said Dad. ‘Your mum begged me to. Look – I think you’d better move on. Donny Maguire’s after you. And that other one? He must be from one of those mobsters you’re so fucking keen on. He’s after you too.’

42

‘What are you doing?’ asked Aunt Min, coming into the kitchen just as Dora came back into the house.

Dora didn’t pause; she raced on up the stairs.

‘You’re getting mud all over the carpet!’ complained Min, following her up.

Once in the bedroom, Dora put her suitcase on the bed and started shoving everything she owned inside it.

‘Are you going to explain yourself?’ demanded Min.

‘No,’ said Dora. ‘I’m moving on. That’s all.’

‘You’re what? Without so much as a by your leave?’

Dora paused, and looked hard at her aunt. ‘Aw, you going to miss me?’ she mocked.

Min’s face hardened. ‘You’re a nasty little piece of work, you, aren’t you?’

‘That’s right,’ said Dora, pushing in the last few bits, gathering up her toiletries from the dressing table. ‘Must run in the family. Will Uncle Joe give me a lift into Harrogate?’