Willy smiled good-naturedly at the little boy sitting on the seat beside his friend.

‘Me bruwer james.’

Tommy nodded at the little boy.

‘He’s got some trap, ain’t he, Willy?’

Willy, a small dumpy boy with sandy hair and non-existent eyebrows, nodded his head vigorously.

‘More front than Southend, mate, and he’s only seven. Sit down, Tommy, I ain’t seen you for a while.’

He sat on the wooden bench beside his friend and admired him openly.

‘You’re looking really prosperous, Willy, what’s the scam?’

Willy took a large drink of beer and smiled. ‘I’m in with Dobson’s lot now. I tell you, Tommy, all the stories about him are true, but he’s a good bloke if you don’t cross him.’

Tommy nodded. Davie Dobson was the local hard man. He was good to people hereabouts in a lot of ways. It was known he would give money to women whose husbands had gone down before the beak, but he was also known to break a few bones when things weren’t going his way. He ran most of the girls on the streets hereabouts, as far as Stratford and some up West.

‘So what you doing for him then?’

‘I sort out deals for him. Little deals that he ain’t got the time or the inclination to bother with.’

What he actually meant was little girls. Willy procured them from the poorer families and then delivered them to Nellie Deakins’ house and other establishments all over the smoke. Dobson, who was trying to make himself look respectable in certain circles, needed stooges like Willy who’d go down if they got caught and do their time without a whimper, coming home to a good few quid and a steady job. Willy was to progress soon to delivering girls to the homes of certain prominent people whom Davie Dobson would then blackmail. It was the most lucrative business, because once they paid, they paid forever.

‘Could you get me in with him like, Willy? I could do with a regular job, and you don’t look like you’re starving from it.’

Willy swaggered in his seat.

‘I’ll have a word with him for you. Me and Dobson’s like that.’

‘You do that for me, Willy, and I’ll owe you one. Now seeing as how you’re in the dosh, you can get the next round in.’

Willy got up and went to the bar.

‘What do you do, young man?’ Tommy addressed James, who looked at him as if he was so much dirt.

‘Mind your own business, you nosy bastard!’

Tommy laughed and James frowned at him. He was only three feet six inches tall and already he was a hard man. That’s what life on the streets did for you.