‘Oh come on, don’t be like that.’ He leant in, and with his hand half hidden by their close proximity, stroked her bottom.

Bessie’s gut jumped in fear and revulsion. ‘Get off me, Tony, you creep!’

‘What’s the matter? I thought you liked it “up the alley” – if you get my meaning?’ Tony chortled.

A hot poker of shame lanced her gut as she stared at this pig of a boy, his one brown tooth at the front quite repulsive, his words even more so.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she spat. Surely . . . surely Lawrence hadn’t broken his word . . . He wouldn’t do that to her . . . He wouldn’t. He was the boy who thought about her before he fell asleep. The boy she had trusted with her body.

‘Oh, I think you do,’ he grinned. ‘I’m talking about the fact that you didn’t seem quite so choosy when Lawrie was at the bus stop. “Gagging for it,” he said you was. And I just wondered, why him and not me?’ He stared at her, unblinking.

‘Go away and leave me alone!’ She folded her arms across her chest to stop them from shaking. Cornered, she spun round, her heart racing and her throat tight. He had told Tony! He had told Tony! Her arms fell to her sides, as if she no longer had the strength to keep them up. She felt more than a little sick.

‘To be honest, I didn’t realise you were that picky, Bessie,’ Tony smirked.

‘I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ The trembling spread from her arms to her legs at his words and the way in which he delivered them. She prayed that her denial might smother his intentions.

‘Yes, you do. So you’re a liar too? Me and the lads, you see, we’re all hoping to become part of the BBC . . .’ He let this hang.

‘The TV station? What are you talking about?’ Half a bottle of Cinzano sloshing in her veins did nothing to aid her lucidity.

Tony laughed hard, again showing his little brown tooth. ‘No, you silly cow, the Bang Bessie Club – who would have thought a plain girl like you would be such a goer?’

Bessie’s mouth fell open and her knees felt weak. She was shocked and deeply offended at his foul suggestion, and thought she might vomit as a cold film of sweat crept over her skin.

Tony tutted and shook his head. ‘And the thing is, the alleyway is not that private, Bessie.’ He reached out and ran a thumb over her cheek.

She recoiled, slapping his hand away from her face.

‘People might have been watching. In fact’ – he paused and smiled again – ‘people were most definitely watching.’ He winked. ‘You should be more careful.’