She nodded quickly and busied herself making the hot-water bottle, but she didn’t feel easy in herself until he had finally left the house. She had a lot to think about as she sat in the bed she shared with Lenny and looked through the photos of him and his best friend. They were so happy in them, smiling and laughing at the camera, and she knew then, without a doubt, that what her son had said was true.

Daddy had been kissing Uncle Reggie.

She cried bitter tears as she wondered how the hell she would cope knowing what she did. Because there was no way in the world she could ever, ever let Lenny Scott know that his secret was finally out. She lay awake for a long time in the darkness, waiting for him to return home.

Chapter Seventy

Jack Johnson felt good about what was happening tonight. Frank Barber was getting exactly what he deserved and that was not something to worry him unduly. Lenny and Reggie had handled the details well; Terry would forever be in his debt and that wasn’t a bad thing. He was a good bloke and he was sensible enough not to make aggravation for himself. That was the epitome of a good earner as far as Jack was concerned. Trouble came in their game anyway so it was pointless going out and looking for it like Frank Barber seemed to be doing. He was too long in the tooth to start this shit now. He had been away too long and he didn’t understand the economics of the modern-day Faces. But that was his lookout. All Jack Johnson knew was that no one from the old guard was going to busy themselves for that silly old fucker. Time was when Frank Barber would have worked that out for himself. He was an old Moustache Pete, a joke to the new generation of men waiting to take what he had. In their world, there was no room for stupidity – that much was certain.

Jack sat in his home, drinking twenty-year-old Scotch and waiting for the call that would tell him it was finally over. He was feeling quite relaxed and full of bonhomie. But, of course, he reasoned that could just be the Scotch. Or the fact that the old bastard was finally getting his comeuppance. And not before time either. He was stronging it and that never boded well for anyone, really. There was nothing sadder than a fucking has-been.

Chapter Seventy-One