Joey looked at his dad. Marital advice from Frank Minghella wasn’t all that. Frank’s own wife and the mother of four boys – of whom Joey was the eldest – had gone out to the shops one day and never come back. Nobody had been even faintly surprised. Frank was idle, Joey knew it. Idle, dirty, always on the scrounge for handouts. But Joey thought his dad was right about this being a good thing.

‘I’ve asked her to marry me,’ said Joey.

Frank snapped the tab off the beer then paused, looking up at his son. ‘She say yes?’

‘Damn right,’ said Joey. Girls worshipped him, he was so good-looking. Damned sure she’d said yes.

‘Then the world is your oyster, boy, and good luck to you.’ Frank took a swig of beer and belched.

Joey went off down the pub to meet his mates that night in a good mood. Granted, he wasn’t keen to get married – what bloke in his right mind was? – but it would work out fine. Connor Flynn couldn’t go on bypassing him for jobs or treating him like dirt if he was his brother-in-law. This would turn the tide. The work would come back his way, the sun would shine, Aysha would drop the kid and she could look after it, no way was he turning into one of these ‘New Man’ types and changing nappies and crawling out of bed to give the little bugger feeds. He could carry on clubbing, popping some E – he’d be able to afford all he could handle when he hooked up with the Flynns. Everything would be just fine.

That’s what he thought, but when he was walking across the pub car park heading for a relaxing evening, a game of snooker, a few beers, he was grabbed from behind and hauled around a line of cars, out of sight.

‘What the fuck?’ he demanded, his voice high with fear.

His attacker flung Joey away from him, into the bushes. The thorns scraped at Joey’s arms and he let out a yell then bounded back to his feet, spinning around to face whoever had jumped him.

Fuck! It was Connor Flynn. Joey half-started forward, then thought better of it.

Connor indicated he should go on, approach. ‘Oh, you want some of this? Come on then, you little bastard.’

Joey felt sick with fear, but he thought of Dad’s words of wisdom. Connor couldn’t hurt him. If he did that, then it was Aysha who would feel the pain of it. The Flynns seemed a tight-knit family, unlike the Minghellas, who didn’t much care if they saw each other from one year to the next.