As they drove the few streets to The Windjammer, Tommy was humming to himself. Marcus, on the other hand, had not reached the point where the use of a gun didn’t bother him at all. But he was determined he would get there, in the end.

‘You really expect me to believe that?’ Briony stubbed her cigarette out with such force she pushed the ashtray across her desk. Only the quick action of the girl before her prevented it from crashing to the floor.

‘Honestly, Miss Cavanagh, it’s the truth.’

Briony walked around the desk and held up a finger. Pointing it into the girl’s face, she said slowly, ‘You ever try and muscle in on another girl’s customer in my club again, I’ll have your guts. Do you hear me?’

The young girl opened her eyes wide in alarm and once more tried to deny everything.

‘But I never...’

Briony stared into her face, her green eyes glittering with malevolence.

‘Are you calling me a liar? Because I was watching you, love.

You waited for the girl to get up and go to the powder room. Then you sauntered over there like butter wouldn’t melt and tried to muscle in. I saw you! Now I couldn’t give a toss, but Betty wasn’t having any of it. You two were fighting in my club.’ She poked herself hard in the chest. ‘My club! You hear what I’m telling you, girl? You don’t fucking cause hag in my place. Now get your bag, and get your arse out of here. If I ever see you or your lousy mate on my premises, I’ll see you never work the smoke again. Do I make myself clear?’

The girl nodded, her face frozen with fear at the change in Briony Cavanagh. Only a week before Briony had stopped by her table and said a friendly hello. It was silly to underestimate her, it was foolhardy. Now she well and truly had her card marked, and all over a punter who was only good for a fiver, top whack. She could cheerfully kick herself.

Picking up her bag, she left the room. Her face was drawn and her shoulders drooped.

Briony watched her leave and sighed heavily.

Brasses weren’t worth the hag half the time. She was happy for the girl discreetly to ply her trade. It didn’t bother her in the least. She was clean, well dressed, and blended in with the clientele. But two of them arguing the toss over a man was a different ball game. It lowered the tone of the club, and that was the last thing Briony wanted.

The door opened once more and she turned away in a temper. ‘I don’t want to see or hear any more about it, Julian!’

Tommy’s voice was soft as he said, ‘Hello, Bri. All right?’

Turning back, her jaw dropped with the shock.