Gladys snorted. ‘No, what you do is your affair. I’m not interested in you but if he’s helping, you’ll all cop it because if I have to walk into Whitechapel myself to do it, I’ll be fetching the police.’

Tommy looked over from the other side of the street. Everyone knew Gladys was trouble but no one really wanted to have to face her.

‘See that,’ said Tommy to Eugene, ‘that’s why Jerry will get the gaffer’s job; he’s a natural leader. He’d face Hitler, that man would.’

Eugene looked across to where Tommy was indicating. ‘To be honest, Tommy, I think most would rather face Hitler than Gladys – she’s a scold, that one.’

Jerry spoke to Gladys in his softest tone, his most conciliatory manner. ‘Gladys, honestly, I’ve no idea where Eric is. Is he not at home? Have you tried the Anchor?’

Jerry did not want to say that he had seen Eric in the Anchor earlier, that was a line men did not cross. No man had ever seen another in the pub when questioned.

‘I’ve been in there and that whore behind the bar with the ton of make-up on her face says she’s never seen him, so he must be here.’

Little Paddy shot out from round the back of Jerry’s legs. Harry grabbed his sleeve to try and stop him, but he was too late. ‘I’ve seen him,’ little Paddy called out. ‘He was kissing Mrs Trott in the entry.’

Harry’s statement stunned the onlookers.

‘Fecking hell,’ Tommy whispered.

‘That kid has a death wish,’ said Eugene.

‘And Eric is a dead man walking,’ said Seamus.

The air trembled as they all stared at Gladys.

‘You what?’ she roared at little Paddy, who no longer felt as confident as he had only seconds before and he said again, with a little less volume, ‘We saw him, didn’t we, Harry?’ He pulled Harry out from behind Jerry to stand next to him. ‘We saw him and he was kissing Mrs Trott.’

It looked to Paddy as though Gladys’s eyes were going to explode and then she said five words before she turned her back on all of them and marched back down the street. ‘He. Is. Dead. To. Me.’

*

Eric stood naked, peeping through the net curtains of Maggie Trott’s bedroom down into the street below. Maggie came and stood at his side and slipped under his arm.

‘If you are regretting this, Eric… don’t,’ she whispered. ‘I understand, you are a married man and one night really was enough for you.’

Eric pulled her into his side. ‘Good job you didn’t say just the once was enough,’ he said as he grinned down at her, ‘for you would already be a liar.’

Maggie laid her head on his shoulder. ‘But it’s an impossible situation, isn’t it?’