Clutching Amy, rigid with distress on her hip, Joanne desperately imagined Mrs Coles out in her garden, and the time it might take her to get to the front door. But seconds later the door swung open. Mrs Coles stared at her.‘Can we come in?’‘Ooh, bab,’ Mrs Coles said. ‘Oh, dear.’Without questioning her, she held the door open and Joanne was swallowed into safety, the door closing behind them.‘Who is it, Mary?’ Jim Coles called from the living room. When Amy paused for breath, Joanne could hear the telly, some kind of sport.‘It’s young Joanne from next door,’ Mary Coles said. ‘She’s just popped in. No need to worry, love – I’ll take ’er through to the kitchen.’But before they could move there was a furious banging on the front door. Joanne jumped, her blood lunging round her body.‘Don’t let him in!’ she begged.Jim Coles erupted from the front room.‘What in the name of God is going on?’His blue eyes took in the sight of her. Only then did Joanne remember she was bleeding.
