‘I’m not bloody stupid, Sam. I’ve seen enough fights in my life to know when someone’s been in one, so what really happened?’ Mo asked as she rushed over to Samuel and reached up to touch a cut above his eyebrow. She then took his hands and examined his swollen knuckles.

‘I got jumped, nothing to worry about, just a couple of bumps and bruises,’ Samuel said, but Mo could tell he was trying to fob her off.

‘I know when you’re lying to me, Sam. It was my dad or one of my brothers that did this to you, wasn’t it?’

Samuel hung his head.

‘I knew it! I said to Sarah I had a bad feeling. For Christ’s sake, can’t we even leave this dump for half an hour without you getting attacked?’

Samuel placed his arms around her. ‘It’s all right,’ he said in a soft voice, ‘It’s not what you think.’

‘Yes, it is. I hate them, all of them, and I wish they were dead! Who was it? Danny?’

‘Yes, but he looks a lot worse than I do,’ Samuel answered.

‘What do you mean? You beat him up?’ Mo asked. Her brother was one of the hardest blokes she knew, and she didn’t believe that Samuel would be a match for him. She thought her man was more of a lover than a fighter.

‘I’m sorry, Mo. I know you didn’t want me causing trouble, but I saw him coming out of the pub and I just saw red.’

‘Are you telling me that you attacked him?’

‘Yes, I got the first punch in.’

Mo turned to look at Sarah to see she had placed Tommy back on the bed and was now sitting beside him, her mouth agape. She looked as surprised as Mo felt.

‘Blimey, Sam, you must be mad! From what Mo has told me, Danny is a nutter and he could have battered you.’

‘He’s not so tough,’ Samuel said with a shrug and a smile.

‘What happened then?’ Mo asked, intrigued.