Ma Campbell was sixty-eight, with a face like a walnut, and black hair liberally sprinkled with grey worn piled up on her head in a neat French pleat. As always she was in a shapeless grey dress, covered over by a large apron which crossed over her pendulous breasts and was tied in a neat bow around her waist. Her feet were swollen, and bulged out of carpet slippers cut at the side to allow her bunions free rein. She had just made her husband and herself a ham sandwich, and was settling by her kitchen fire waiting for her boys to come home and tell her the evening’s doings.

As the door knocker was slammed against the wood she heaved herself out of her chair. Walking along her hallway, she bellowed: ‘All right, all right, for fuck’s sake! I ain’t deaf!’

Pulling open her front door she closed her gaping mouth as she saw Mariah Jurgens and Briony Cavanagh standing there. She drew herself up to her full height and stood aggressively before them.

‘Well, well, well, if it ain’t the bleeding Tarts’ Society on me step!’

Briony and Mariah pushed her into her hallway in a flurry of bad language and shoves.

‘Who you bleeding pushing, you pair of whores? My boys won’t take no sodding nonsense, mate. They’ll cut your tits off if you touch me.’

Briony grabbed the woman by her immaculate French pleat and practically ran her into her kitchen.

‘Shut up, Ma, before I lose me rag. Your Micky is at this moment in a car with Kousan the Arab and Tommy Lane, and I don’t hold out much hope of him coming home.’

Da Campbell, as he was known, carried on eating his sandwich without glancing at them.

‘Everyone knows you’re the brains, Ma, so why don’t you just calm down and tell us what we want to know? Believe me when I say we’ve had enough for one night and we’re rapidly losing our patience.’

Ma Campbell was so incensed her face was a bright red and her hands were visibly shaking.

‘I don’t know fuck all! Now get yourselves and your cheap perfume out of my clean kitchen.’

Mariah slapped her across the face, hard, making her head roll back on to her shoulders.

‘You bitch! Raise your hand to me, would you?’

As Ma made to grab at Mariah, Briony took hold of her arm and twisted it up her back.

‘Shut up, Nancy!’ Da Campbell’s voice was loud in the room and the three women stared at him.

‘You bastard! You’d do a deal over your boy’s life, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you?’ The last two words ended on a scream.