She absent-mindedly touched her husband’s ravaged face and went back to the kitchen. Then, taking the scissors, she carefully cut out the article about her grandsons to add to her scrapbook. They would come looking for her one day, she was sure, and, when they did, she wanted them to know that she had never forgotten them. Then she got ready for church, rosary already in her coat pocket and missal in her handbag. She set out, as she did twice a day, to pray for the destruction of the girl who had brought her family so low. How, she asked her God, could He let that whore prosper, knowing the evil and the damage she had done? But the wheels of God grind slow, and one day He in all His glory would see fit to punish that bitch of hell. All Lesley had to do was be patient and wait.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty

Micky and Jack were happily reminiscing about the old days, and Jack had forgotten what great company Micky could be when he was in a good mood. Micky Biggs had a wonderful, warm personality that Jack was sure accounted for his success with the opposite sex.

‘Then, Jack, fucking Petey Brewer vomited – projectile vomited – all over the poor PC’s fucking shoes. I was on the floor! Anyway, suffice to say he couldn’t wait to be rid of us, and we walked off towards Vicky Park with all the poor fucker’s takings from the betting shop!’

Jack was nearly crying with laughter.

‘Foolishness of youth and drink. We took the money back next day and apologised. Nice old fucker he was. Jewish. Forgave us and then let us pick out some sweets!’

Jack was laughing again.

‘Couple of years later I used to sell chorred fags to him!’

Jack poured them both more whisky and Micky sipped his gratefully, savouring the smoky taste.

‘Anyway, Jack. As nice as this has been, I want to ask you a favour.’

Jack nodded.

‘I hear you have access to a man who can settle scores for a price.’

Jack smiled. ‘I have. And it ain’t cheap, Micky.’

Micky sighed as if to say that he wouldn’t expect it any other way. ‘It’s that cunt George Thomas. He has been on my fucking case for ages to bring him in on a deal, the nature of which you don’t need to know. Anyway, I did as he asked and now the cunt has not only tucked me up, but he has also earholed me out. So, as you can imagine, I am not a happy bunny.’

Jack nodded once more but his face was very serious now. George Thomas was not a man to cross unless you had a mob handy, Jack knew that much.