Harry would have enjoyed the view. Will I find out more today?

Be patient. Answers will be received, but you must seek them out.

The journey you have started is a demanding one.

I got straight into the shower. The soot in my hair circled the drain and blackened the water. I could hear Yvonne shouting across the house to John, even over the cascade of water above my head. I really didn’t want her involved in any of this, but I didn’t see another option. If John was taking us, and he knew them, it would be at least another layer of protection if things went pear-shaped. I quickly got dressed and made my way downstairs, my hair still wet from the shower. I barely made any conscious effort in my appearance those days. I didn’t see the point. Most of the day for me was about survival into the next.

“Ey up, coffee, love?” John asked.

It was too early for the Yorkshire-isms.

“Please,” I smiled.

“John says he knows these brothers. They operate out of an industrial estate in Leeds,” Yvonne said.

“And how do you know the Broadheads, John?” I enquired.

“Oh, you know. Just out and about in Leeds. When I worked the doors.”

Harry told me that John had worked in security in Leeds for most of his life. I say security; he used to stand outside the pubs and clubs judging people’s footwear choices. He eventually started his own security business and made quite a name for himself in Leeds. All roads seemed to lead back to the Broadheads, and I wondered if they somehow paid for this fancy house I’d just stayed in, too.

“Do you think they would be responsible for the fire at Steve’s place?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t put anything past the Broadheads. They’ve got a lot of fingers in a lot of pies, those lads. But I’ve known them since they were little. You’ll be safe with me.”

“What’s the plan, then?” I asked.

“No plan, love. We’ll just go and speak to them.”

“Listen to him, Amelia. You can trust John,” Yvonne added.

I didn’t trust him. Not one bit. But it was either get in the car with John and hopefully find out more about Harry or go home. I gulped my instant coffee; most of the granules hadn’t dissolved yet and stuck to my teeth.

“We can go up when you’ve finished your coffee,” John suggested.

“I think I’ve had enough, actually. Are you ready now?” I replied.

“Ready when you are.”

John gave Yvonne a kiss on the cheek as he brushed past her, and we both walked to his car. He had one of those old 4x4s you find rusting to dust on a farm, but it felt like stepping into a tank. The smell of burning diesel defiled the virgin Filey air as John chugged down the road towards Leeds. John and I barely had a thing in common, so I just sat in the passenger seat in silence, staring out of the window at the endless fields and greenery. After the ninety-minute journey to Leeds, John pulled into a decaying industrial estate filled with shuttered businesses and run-down units. We slowly drove through the estate, finally stopping at the end unit. I hadn’t noticed until we had stopped because I’d barely looked at John the entire journey, but he was sweating profusely.

“Are you okay, John?” I asked.

“Listen, love. You’ve got two choices here. You can either walk in there, and you probably won’t walk back out again. Or, the option I’d prefer is we turn back, and you forget all about this,” John explained coldly.

I started sweating, too. He had assured me that I would be safe if I came here, but then I started thinking that he was involved in it all, to some extent. John continued to look at me menacingly, waiting for my response. I tried the door handle, but the doors were already locked.

“Why did you even take me here?” I asked.

“I couldn’t have Yvonne thinking I had anything to do with the fire, could I?” John asked.

“And you did?”

John started to look increasingly more agitated by my line of questioning and turned his head to look at the warehouse with a sharp huff. He turned back to me, and the menacing expression on his face was even more intense. He stepped out of the car and walked calmly over to the passenger door, threw it open and pulled me outside by my arm.

“Looks like you’ve made your decision,” he said.

I desperately tried to wriggle free, but his grip was unwavering. He dragged me like a rag doll through the doors of the warehouse and pushed me forward to the floor. When I raised my head, I saw two men standing over me. John remained behind me, preventing my escape.

“This her?” One of the men said.

“Yes,” John replied.

“I’m Nick. This is Damien,” Nick said, leaning in.

“We hear you’ve been looking for us,” Damien whispered, “you’ve found us.”

I attempted to stand, but Nick tutted loudly and put his hand on my shoulder, keeping me on my knees. I desperately looked around for some kind of escape route, but nothing was immediately apparent. I could almost feel my heart pumping through my throat, and I was way out of my comfort zone. John had assured me I would be safe; it was the only reason I decided to come here in the first place. I could just try and stand up and run, but I had no idea where I would go or how many men were lurking in this warehouse. The floor was disgusting, covered in debris and dust, with the occasional ominously red stain soaked into the concrete. The debris had already started to cut into my knees, and they began to burn in pain. Nick whistled and clicked his fingers violently to get my attention back.

“Come on then. Spit it out. Why the hell are you here?” Nick shouted, so close to my face I could feel the heat in his breath.

“I’m here about my husband,” I fretted.

Both brothers burst out laughing uproariously, but John remained a silent observer.

“He’s dead, love,” Damien retorted.

“I know. Did you kill him?” I asked.

The laughter stopped.

“Why would we kill Harry? You can’t collect a debt from a dead man,” Nick said.

“So, he still owed you money?” I replied.

“Yes. And a lot of it. That’s why we had to go and cook up Steve’s little caravan park. He was the guarantor of sorts. Your man John here lit the match.”

I turned to look at John, and he nodded slightly, letting me know it was true. John had a much more intimate relationship with the Broadheads than he’d initially expressed. He was clearly working with them, and now, I had no one to turn to for help. Damien reached into a large toolbox, producing a tyre wrench, clasping it with both hands. He gave a knowing nod to Nick who then turned back to me.

“Now, we can’t have you running around asking questions, so we’ll have to put a stop to that,” Nick said menacingly.

Damien started walking over to me, almost in slow motion, delicately patting his free hand with the large piece of steel he was holding in the other. I knew exactly what was coming. He was going to take it and crack my skull open with it. My heart had stopped beating entirely, and I was in free fall, waiting for the inevitable impact. Just as he entered striking distance, my self-preservation instinct kicked in.

“Stop!” I screamed, “I’m pregnant.”

Damien had stopped in his tracks, staring at Nick for some direction. I could hear John pacing around behind me. All three men were just looking at one another, not knowing what to do next.

The funniest bit about it was that it was true.