Sharon made endless cups of tea and coffee and Reggie kept the conversation going so everything seemed as normal as possible. The drivers, though, were more aware than ever of the tension in the rank and more than a couple went home, unwilling to be caught up in whatever might happen.

Sharon’s mother had the two boys overnight in case anything kicked off at the house and Jack Johnson was never off the blower, getting regular updates and revealing whatever he could find out to them. Reggie and Ray discussed the situation in low voices when the need arose and Sharon, realising she had not eaten since that morning, wondered how people in war zones lived in this state of perpetual fear of violence. Inwardly she was trembling like a poplar; outwardly she was aware that she looked very calm.

It was seven in the evening when the first blow was struck. It was a drive-by and three shots were fired through the windows of the cab rank. It was a miracle that no one was seriously harmed. Margaret’s screaming was heard all over East London, and it took an injection by the local doctor to finally shut her up.

Chapter Ninety-Eight

David Bannerman was like a man possessed after his wife explained what had occurred at his home. It was his good luck that, shortly after talking to her, he had a phone call from Jack Johnson who was asking around about the whereabouts of Jamie.

Davie was well aware that there was aggro between Jamie and Jack Johnson over Lenny Scott’s holdings but, until now, he had not given any of it a second thought in relation to his family. But after that cunt’s behaviour in his home, threatening his wife and terrifying his child, Jamie Brewer had become what he classed as fair game. Davie Bannerman would happily serve him up.

He assured Jack Johnson that his main aim in life was to see that filthy, rotten piece of dog shit Jamie Brewer six feet under and, if necessary, he would do the fucking job himself.

Jack Johnson guessed rightly that once again Jamie had shat on his own doorstep. He was almost smiling as he explained the latest turn of events to the irate man on the other end of the phone.

Chapter Ninety-Nine

Jamie Brewer was in The Volunteer pub in Barking, listening to his father as he lectured his son for the umpteenth time about the fact that he could not go around threatening his own family and shooting up fucking cab ranks willy-nilly.