It was a beautiful ginger colour, almost like honey. Thick, honeyed fur, with some white markings on its face. Large bushy tail that I could have stroked again and again, hearing the soft purr, one of those ones that made you feel relaxed and sleepy just to hear it.

It didn't look like a stray. It was too clean, too pretty, too devoid of any marks or scratches, to be feral. It rubbed itself back and forth against my legs, its chubby body undulating as it sought affection, its gentle meows forcing me to keep looking away from its adoring gaze.

It was somebody's pet. I was sure of it. I didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to think how somewhere, someone – maybe a little girl – was waiting for it to come home, so she could pet it and stroke it and pull it onto her lap, as it purred affectionately at her. I didn't want to think about how heartbroken she'd be when it didn't come and so I concentrated on my girl. How happy she'd been lately. How well she'd looked lately. Because she did. She looked amazing, skin pinker than it had been in ages, dark circles around her eyes all but gone. And then there was the smile. That breath-taking, beautiful smile warmer than the sunshine in July. I'd give anything to keep seeing that smile.

Anything. Even this.

Taking a deep breath, I reached down, resisting the urge to stroke the cat's fur and pulled it towards me, holding it still.

'Don't look at me,' I whispered, raising my eyes to the skies. 'Please, don't bloody look at me. I'm sorry, I'm sorry.'

One twist. One awful, stomach-churning twist and it was done.

I was becoming a bit of an expert at it, but the pain still ran deep, the guilt eating away at me, one kill at a time, over and over again. I wondered how long it would take for it to kill me. Maybe it already had, because here I was again, doing something I hated and hating myself, just to make Alice happy. Just to keep her well. Just to make everything okay.

Since that night, since the rats and the blood and the torn flesh, we'd talked about it once. Just once.

'I'm tired of being hungry, Kris, it hurts all the time and I'm so tired of it.'

'I know, I know, but this, Alice? This?'

She'd stared at me, all red-rimmed eyes, hollow cheeks and chapped lips. 'What else can we do? We haven't any money. We can't even go out begging because of them blokes.'

My fault. My fault. My fault.

'But, you don't know what diseases them things are carrying! You could get sick, Alice. Really sick.'

'I am sick. Can't you see that? I need to eat, Kris. I need to eat or I'm going to die out here, I know I am.'

Tears had filled her eyes, fingers trembling as she bit anxiously on her nails.

'I'm going to die,' she said again.

I couldn't bear it. The thought of it made me want to puke. She couldn't die. She couldn't leave me. Not now. Not ever. I wouldn't survive without her. I wouldn't want to survive without her.

'You're not, do you hear me?' I kissed her lips. 'You're not. I won't let that happen.'

'Then, please, Kris. Please help me. You said you'd always look after me. You said that.'

I had said that.

I'd made a promise and not just to her, but to myself. Alice was the one good thing in my life. I'd known it since the first day I ever laid eyes on her. Sounds stupid I know. Like some bloody ridiculous Richard Curtis film where you know it's going to end happily ever after. All smiling faces and declarations of never-ending love and Elvis-poxy-Costello singing out your theme tune.

But that's just how it was. It was just me and her and our happy-ever-after.

At least, that's how it was meant to be.

Now it was hunger and dirt and nights spent on the freezing streets. Not exactly the stuff of movies, I know, but I was determined to make everything okay again. I had to make her happy. I had to show her how much I loved her. I had to keep her with me, no matter what it took. And she'd been so upset when I'd questioned her new-found hunger, distraught even, that I hadn't mentioned it again, so afraid of upsetting her. Afraid of losing her.

Her appetite had grown voraciously, inflating like a balloon every day, now that she knew she didn't have to go hungry, now that she knew there was a wealth of food out here on the streets that didn't involve rooting through bins and having people look at you like you were shit. And no matter how much she had, it never seemed enough. Days and days without eating anything remotely substantial and somehow coping with it and now the more she ate, the more she wanted. I was trying not to think about what it all meant, but the truth was I was terrified. It wouldn't have bothered me so much if she'd wanted to cook the animals. I mean, I wouldn't have liked it, of course I wouldn't, but it would have been better than this. Better than knowing she preferred to eat them raw. Better than watching as she bit into their still-warm bodies, teeth sinking into flesh, blood running down her chin. Better than seeing her grin afterwards, teeth stained red, the satisfaction gleaming in her eyes.

Glancing around, I put the cat's lifeless body into the carrier bag. It seemed almost heavier as I carried it back to our place under the bridge, the effort to hold it increasing with every step and so instead, I just tried to think about Alice, and how happy she'd be that I'd done it.

Fighting my way through the alley jungle again, I saw her huddled against the wall, knees pulled in tight to her chest, as she rocked slightly, the sleeping bag unzipped and wrapped around her shoulders. She was trembling, but I knew it wasn't the cold this time. It was the hunger. The anticipation.

She jumped up as soon as she saw me, excited, smiling, with a hint of hope in her eyes. It reminded me of when I'd first told her that I was going to sort out her dad, how I was going to save her from him and his anger. She'd looked at me then, just how she was looking at me now and my heart soared a little to see it.

'Did you do it?' she said, her voice an almost breathless whisper that made my throat go dry and my heart race. 'Did you get it?'

I thought about the cat, its beautiful eyes, its velvety honey fur.

'Yeah.' Hands twisting. Neck snapping. 'Yeah, course I did. Told you I would, didn't I?'

'Oh, Kris, you're amazing, I love you!' She threw her arms around my neck, pressing her body against mine as she kissed me. I'd tried not to think about her mouth too much these past few days, because when I did, I couldn't stop thinking about what it looked like to watch her tearing into flesh. I couldn't stop thinking about what it looked like to watch her chew.

As quickly as she'd embraced me, she grabbed the bag from my hands, making little squealing noises when she opened it up and looked inside. She scuttled away from me, moving towards the far side of the bridge where she crouched down and pulled the dead cat out of the bag. I watched her for a few seconds, the unease growing inside as she stroked the animal, not because she thought its fur was beautiful, but because she was looking for the best place to start. I'd come to realise this with every kill. She was like a butcher, marking out the most succulent cuts of meat, not that she seemed to really care that much which part was better. It was all tasty to Alice. It all seemed to satisfy her hunger, for a short time at least.

She leant down and I looked away, trying desperately to focus on the sound of the traffic rumbling over the bridge above us, when all I could hear was her.

Rip. Tear. Squelch. Chew. Snap.

On and on it went. A macabre symphony of music, and all I wanted to do was clap my hands over my ears, all I wanted to do was walk away until I couldn't hear it any longer, but I couldn't leave her alone. I could never leave her. Not even while she did this.

When soft footsteps echoed towards us, muted only by the rustling of bushes, I stooped quickly to pick up one of the bricks piled high by our stuff, the only weapon I had. It wasn't Seamus, I knew that already, having agreed with him that he make a whistle before he reached the end of the alley and my heart began to hammer a frantic beat, petrified that we'd been found.

A man appeared from the alley mouth, eyes wide and bloodshot under the peak of his dirty, black cap. He wasn't someone I recognised and living on the streets, you got to know the locals real quick – who was okay, who really wasn't okay, who you'd jump in the stinking waters of the canal just to avoid – and this guy wasn't anyone that I'd seen around here before.

'H-hello?' he called out, hesitating just beyond the jungle, his eyes widening even further when he saw the brick grasped in my hand. 'S-sorry, I know this is your place, I don't mean no trouble, I swear.'

'Fuck off then,' I hissed, stepping forward, sparks of courage igniting. 'We don't want anyone else down here with us.'

'Us?' He craned his neck to look past me and I shifted to the right, desperately trying to block his view of Alice. I couldn't let him see her. I couldn't let him see what she was doing, what she was eating. He wouldn't understand. No one would. This was our secret – ours – and I couldn't risk anyone else finding out.

'Look, I said fuck off, yeah?'

He raised his hands defensively, lip trembling like a child about to burst into tears. He was missing the little finger from his right hand, nothing left there but a melted, distorted stump of flesh. On first glance, he looked exactly the same as us. Layers of dirty clothes. Covered in street-shit and history and shame. But he had something the rest of us learned to hide quick. The one thing we shed as soon as we could.

Fear.

Oh, he had it alright. And he had it by the bucket-load. He was wearing it like another layer of clothing. He stank of it, sweating it out of every pore.

'Please,' he said, his voice cracked and shaky. 'I'm not here to take anything, or try anything funny, I promise.'

'Promise? You promise, eh?' I moved to block his gaze again, hoping with everything I had that Alice had finished or was at least hidden in shadow. 'There ain't no promises on the street, no one believes in them. So why don't you go and make your promises to someone who gives a shit? Go on! Get away from us!'

I raised the brick up, ready to throw it at him if he tried anything.

He shrank back, his hands in front of his face. 'Oh God, please don't, I'm going, I'm going.' He stumbled, tripping over and falling to the ground among the nettles and wild grass. He looked pathetic, a small, crumpled heap of skin and bone and dirt, whimpering as he tried to scramble to his feet. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. But I had to think about Alice. I had to.

'I'm sorry,' he simpered again as he managed to finally stand upright. 'I just wanted somewhere to hide. I just wanted some peace, just for tonight, that's all. Those fellas. They chased me away, took all my stuff, so I ran and somehow I ended up here, I'm s-sorry...'

Panic spiked hard in my chest. 'What fellas? Did they follow you here? Did anyone see you come down here?'

He shook his head vehemently. A shock of red flesh around his eye told me these blokes, whoever they were, had probably done a lot worse than just nick his stuff.

'No, nobody saw me, I swear.'

'You better not be fucking lying!' He flinched again at my anger and a stab of sympathy twisted inside my throat, burning me there and sending an acid-ache right down into my chest. This is what I had resorted to. Threatening a bloke who looked like he was in a worse situation than we were. I couldn't afford to feel sorry for him though, not when so much was at stake here. 'Look, you can't stay here, I'm sorry but you can't. We don't bloody know you, I've never seen you before. I don't fancy spending my night with one eye open to see what you're going to do.'

'I wouldn't do nothing, I swear!' A small sob escaped his lips. Bloody Hell, how long had this bloke been on the streets? And how had he even managed one night without getting killed? 'I just want to sleep. That's all. It's been so long since I had any shut-eye. I'm dead on my feet.'

'And I told you I don't give a shit! Now get the fuck away before I smash your bloody head in! I'm warning you!'

'Kris!'

I froze at the sound of her voice. 

Alice's hand curled around my wrist. Small and delicately boned, blood stained under her nails. Blood I knew was fresh.

I wrenched my gaze away from the bloke, who was cowering again, to look at Alice as she peered over my shoulder. But she wasn't looking at me.

She was looking directly at him.

Eyes wide and gleaming. A small smile on her lips. There was no blood there now, but something about her smile sent a chill coursing through my veins.

'Look at him, the poor bugger. He's all on his own. Let him stay, Kris. Just for tonight.'

Her grip tightened on my wrist and her smile widened.

'What harm can it do?'