Marie told George about the money she owed her dealer. The way he’d held her head, knotting his hands into her hair as he thrust himself into her mouth. Her sorry tale tumbling heavy and toxic onto the pavement between them, crouching among the dog-ends and the crumpled fag packets, ready to spring again and again.

‘Christ. Marie…’

‘That’s why I’m here. Dressed to impress.’ She fluttered jazz hands and tried to smile but she couldn’t. ‘I was chased earlier by two women. I was on their spot. George,’ – her teeth begin to chatter – ‘have you got any cash?’

‘Marie. I can’t… I can’t give you money for drugs. To kill yourself.’

‘I wasn’t selling myself for that. I was trying to raise enough for rehab. I…’ Her voice cracked. ‘I want…’ she whispered, ‘I want to be clean.’

Strangely it was this admission that brought her the most shame, as though it was other people who led good, healthy lives and she had no right to any of it. But how she wanted it. How she wanted her life back. No, not even back. She wanted her adult life to begin in a way it hadn’t before. Free from guilt, from secrets.

Free from lies – but now in addition to the dirty untruths she already carried, she was adding to her burden. She eyed George warily. She didn’t mention blackmail – Leah was her sister and she didn’t want her to be hurt – but she didn’t have to say it aloud. George knew what she had willingly done in the putrid alley, on her knees, mouth in a perfect ‘o’. He knew what she had come here to do tonight. He’d seen the worst of her and so he assumed the worst and it was this that made her want to cry. Longing to tell him that, despite everything, she had morals and there were things she could not do.

‘How much do you need?’ he asked wearily.

She did a quick calculation in her head, adding on some for rehab. He winced as she presented her final figure.

‘Fuck, Marie. We’re not doing that great ourselves…’ he trailed off but he hadn’t said no.

‘There’s money coming in. The book royalties are going to be higher this quarter and we’ve been offered a TV interview – the fee for that is huge if we can come up with a new angle.’

They talked for several minutes more before he turned and left. Francesca was waiting for him in the shadows of the car park. Marie watched as George hugged her close before guiding her forwards, one hand on the small of her back.

More than anything, that was what Marie craved. A touch that came from kindness, from love. As she watched him tenderly settle Francesca in his car, Marie knew that Leah had already lost him and, although Marie felt sorry for her sister, she also felt a pang of envy that Leah had known that kind of love.