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Katie had driven Rose back over to Farranstown House late in the afternoon. She lit the fire in the large draughty sitting room while she began concocting a dinner from the meagre provisions in the cupboards and freezer. She needed to have a serious conversation with her mother. Her gran was not doing well and Katie figured she needed full-time care. It was dangerous leaving her on her own.

With chicken goujons in the oven and potatoes boiling on the hob, she had her head in the freezer looking for peas when she heard the clang of the doorbell. Wiping her hands on a dirty tea towel, reminding herself to put on a wash, she went up the draughty hall to answer the door.

She felt her jaw hang open, unable to utter a word.

‘Hi, Katie. We need to talk.’

At last she was able to form words. ‘Christ Almighty. What are you doing here, Jackson?’ She kept the door only partially open and leaned against it.

‘Can I come in? Please.’

‘But how did you find out where I live?’

‘I dropped you home last night. Remember?’

‘Oh, right.’ She knew how Rose felt now. She hardly recalled the drive home after their argument at the restaurant. ‘Suppose it’s all right, then. Be quiet, though, my gran is resting in the sitting room.’

‘Will I take off my shoes?’

Katie smiled and pointed at the grubby floor. ‘What do you think? I’m in the kitchen with Gordon Ramsay.’

‘Will I be safe in Hell’s Kitchen?’ He followed her through.

She closed the freezer door, deciding on a tin of beans instead of peas, and switched on the kettle. ‘Coffee?’

‘Sure, thanks.’ He seated himself at the table and rolled his finger over and back on a crumb. ‘I’m sorry I was such a dick, Katie. I really like you and it makes me sad for us to finish with a row. I like your company. I even like your son.’

‘You know nothing about my son.’

‘I like you, so I know I’ll like him.’

‘Leave Louis out of this conversation.’

‘I just want to apologise. I’ve had such a stressful time lately, but it was no excuse for being an idiot with you. I’m so sorry.’

‘The food was nice, though.’

‘It was, until I ruined the evening.’

She made two mugs of coffee, and sat beside him. ‘I feel a confession coming on.’

‘This is difficult. I believed that if you knew the real me, you’d run a million miles.’ He flashed her a forlorn smile of perfect teeth. Made her wonder how much it would cost her to have her own teeth straightened.

‘All right. Out with it.’ Just then she heard the front door slam. ‘Great. Not. Mam is home from work. She doesn’t know how to shut a door quietly.’ She stood up and began wiping down the table. Why was she nervous? Did she not want her mother turning her nose up at her boyfriend? Was he even her boyfriend? She didn’t know what to think.

Lottie marched into the kitchen dragging a suitcase unevenly behind her. ‘I smell spuds burning. Did you let the water boil off them? Is that Gran’s car outside? Is she okay?’ She noticed Katie’s visitor and stopped. ‘What the hell are you doing in my house?’

She let go of the suitcase and it toppled over on its three wheels. Katie held her breath, ran to pick up the pot of spuds and watched Jackson, his face ashen, leap to his feet.

‘Inspector Parker?’ He turned to stare at Katie. ‘She’s your mother?’

‘ She ’s the cat’s mother,’ Lottie said, marching into his space. ‘I asked what you’re doing in my house.’

Katie broke out of her stupor. ‘He came to see me. How do you know Jackson?’

Lottie laughed. ‘Jackson? That’s a good one. Are you a jack of all trades then?’

‘I have to go.’ He edged towards the door. ‘Sorry, Katie.’

‘Not so fast, Greg,’ Lottie said.

‘Greg?’ Katie didn’t know what was going on. But hearing her mother’s tone, dripping sarcasm and disdain in equal measure, she knew it wasn’t going to end well.

‘Greg Plunkett,’ Lottie said. ‘Markets himself as a modelling photographer to entice young women into his lair and then sets them up as part of his dating agency, which is really an escort agency.’

‘That’s absurd,’ Katie said derisively. In reality, she was still reeling from the fact that he’d lied about his name. She watched her mother round on him.

‘Oh, so you haven’t told my daughter what you do?’

‘You have it all wrong,’ he mumbled, his hand on the door. ‘I’m leaving.’

‘Without giving Katie an explanation? Have you tried to coerce her like you did Laura Nolan and Shannon Kenny?’

‘What? No, and I don’t coerce anyone.’

‘And what about Aneta Kobza?’

‘Aneta who?’

‘Don’t play the innocent with me, Mr Plunkett. Your business is nothing short of a prostitution racket and you’re the pimp.’

‘You’re insane!’

Lottie pulled out a chair and sat. Katie tipped the pot into the sink, potatoes and water, and switched off the oven. Her mother could starve, because she was being insensitive at best and obnoxious at worst. Did she not realise she was still standing there listening to those awful accusations?

Lottie must have seen the look on her face, because she said, ‘Check on your grandmother. I need to have a conversation with Greg here.’

He opened the door. ‘I’m leaving. You have no right to talk to me the way you just did. I’ve been cooperative with you from day one. I’ve a mind to report you.’

‘And I’ve a mind to lock you up. You’re trespassing in my home.’

‘I let him in,’ Katie said. ‘So you can forget about trespassing.’

The door behind Greg pushed in and he moved to one side. Rose stood on the threshold, looking all around. Her hair was matted to her scalp and a sheen of perspiration lined her forehead.

‘What’s all the shouting about?’ She waved her arms. ‘I want to go home.’

Katie rushed over and took her arm to lead her back to the sitting room. ‘Will you help me stoke the fire, Gran?’

‘What fire? Is the house on fire? I smell burned spuds.’ She pointed at Greg. ‘Who are you?’

Katie took her gran’s hand to lead her out, and glared at him thinking that that was a very good question.

There was shouting coming from somewhere in the house. Shannon wondered what was going on. She felt so ill and her skin itched all over. A wave of nausea travelled from her stomach to her throat. If I get sick now, I’ll choke, she thought. Her mouth was bound with tape again. She had to escape from this hellhole. The little girl, Magenta, might be her way out. But how? Was she as evil as the adults? Who were these people?

She groaned, twisting over onto her side. The door opened and a shaft of light pierced the ink-black room. She blinked and tried to see who had entered, but her eyes were as sore as the rest of her body. She couldn’t even cry out.