‘Shut up, Betty!’ said Stella. ‘There’s no one on the Morry anyway, now. No business to be had. So you go on, love, you do whatever you were doing, walking your dog, or whatever it is you are down here for. We’ve all been there, but there’s no business to be had tonight. We’ve all known hard times, love – why do you think we do what we do?’

‘Ooer, Stella, speak for yourself! I’ve never looked as bad as that. And have you lost your marbles or what? Just letting her go like that? Jeez, it’s tough enough as it is. I’ve only had one turn and Fred won’t like it when I tell him.’

Stella turned her full gaze on Betty. ‘Fred won’t know, Betty, because if he does, you will be the only person who could have told him – and you will regret that very much, do you understand? I’m still the queen bee around here and you had better remember that.’

Betty’s face flushed and she looked very put out. Scamp sidled up to Peggy, his eyes never leaving the two women, his lips pulled back, his teeth exposed, a low, constant growl coming from his throat.

Stella said in a lower voice, ‘There but for the grace of God, Betty.’

Peggy took a step, but it was difficult; she was losing blood. She took another as Scamp brushed up against her leg and he whined and looked up at her, his ears down, his eyes asking her a million questions. A dozen more steps and she would be at the water’s edge. She heard the clippety-clop of two pairs of stilettos walk towards the next dock, and Stella’s voice carried to her on the air, cutting off Betty’s grumblings mid flow.

‘Leave her alone, Betty. She doesn’t have a pair of shoes to her name, God love her. That could be us one day.’

Betty laughed. ‘No way! I’d rather die.’

Chapter Twenty-seven

The only sound was the creaking of the cranes down on the dock and the odd jangling of chains on the Morry. Seamus gave each man very clear instructions.

‘One man every five steps,’ he whispered as his obedient dockers descended the steps. They needed no light, for it was a journey they made most days of their lives. The air was tense – the customs men could have walked out of the bond warehouse at any time and caught them red-handed.

Outside the pub, Jerry licked his lips, nervously, his mouth dry. ‘Conor should be on board by now,’ said Tommy.

‘Aye, it’s business as usual, Tommy. I can hardly believe my eyes you’re back. I feel like this is my lucky night. Where’s Maura? She’s the big organiser on the top, we’ve never done it without her before.’