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I do not remember much else. One of my friends ran away home. The other ran and found my brother, who was playing football nearby. He arrived just as I came round, and he picked me up in his arms and ran with me all the way to the house of a retired doctor who lived near. When we got there, he was too out of breath to even say what had happened.
    I can remember the doctor’s calming voice, a kind, rumbling, bass that never stopped as he cleaned the gash on my head, and checked my pulse with his big fingers. He phoned for an ambulance, saying all the time it will be all right, it will be all right. And I can remember my brother, sitting on a chair in his muddy football strip, chest heaving, eyes wide with worry, my blood staining the crest on his shirt. But my brother was dead now, and I looked at Sean and I could not at that moment remember what it was about him that had reminded me of my brother.
    “Anna, look.” He dropped his voice, ran a hand back through his hair, leaving it sticking up in little spikes. “This is crazy shit you have got yourself mixed up in. Get out of it. For God’s sake, don’t let it into your life, Anna, don’t bring it into ours, it’s—”
    “ Ours ? Is that what you are worried about, Sean? Your life? You think these men know where I work so you are somehow involved? This is not about you, Sean. This is nothing to do with you.”
    “Yeah,” he said. “Guns? Fucking right it isn’t.”
    We stared at each other over the table for a moment, and then there were heavy footsteps behind the counter.
    “You two going to stay here all night, then, drinking my coffee that you haven’t paid for? I hope the clean-up is finished.” Peter blinked heavy eyelids at us, swayed slightly on his feet as if there was a strong wind blowing.
    “It is,” I said, and I got up. “It’s finished.” I picked up my coffee cup, and dropped it into one of the bins. “Good night.”
    “Anna,” Sean said.
    I walked out of the back door, walked past the green refuse skips that smelt of grease on the inside and urine on the outside, walked down the narrow back lane, and out onto the main street. It was empty under the orange lights. Not even a late night drunk weaving home, following a path that only he could see. If Sean comes after me, I will take a deep breath, and we will talk, I thought.
    But he did not. So I just walked all the way home, and when I got to the room I undressed quietly so as not to disturb the others and I lay on my bed and I dug my nails into my hands, very hard, very hard.

CHAPTER THREE
    When Daniel strolled through the door of the restaurant, as confident as if he was there to do some kind of inspection, I could see that Sean remembered him. Sean stared at Daniel for a moment, and then busied himself with serving customers, pretending not to look. But every few seconds I saw his gaze flick across, and when there were no customers he started to scrub at the counter near us, even though I had only cleaned it that morning. This surprised me. I had thought that he would have asked Pete if he could take his break early, do anything other than stay near us and risk being noticed. But he did not.
    “Well hello,” Daniel said, draping himself over a chair. “How’s the doctor? Can you take five minutes? Come on love, what’s the harm, you look like you’ve been working hard, you deserve to put your feet up. Hey, mate, two coffees over here, eh?”
    “It’s not waiter service,” Sean said, glaring at Daniel.
    “I’m not asking for a fucking waiter,” Daniel said patiently, as if he were talking to someone who did not really speak English. “Just some fucking coffee. Be a good boy, eh, and bring some over.”
    I stood between the two of them to stop this from going any further. “You two shut up,” I said. “I will get the coffee. Daniel, don’t speak like that to anyone here. Sean, I’m going to take my break now, if that is OK.”
    Sean shrugged, fine, take it whenever, I