‘Don’t you be worrying about that cocky little shyster. You leave him to me.’

Bill Harris was up the bar in the Grave Maurice when he clocked Queenie storm in. He knew Hounslow Harry had the dosh as he’d rung the pub from a callbox like he’d told him to. ‘Hello, Queenie. You haven’t seen Albie, have ya? He was meant to meet me in ’ere over a bleedin’ hour ago.’

‘I need to talk to you in private,’ Queenie snapped. Bill wasn’t bad looking with his wavy blond hair, blue eyes and big grin. But his eyebrows met in the middle, just like her father’s had. She never trusted a man whose eyebrows joined together. ‘Albie’s at the hospital. He’s been done over by some bloke in a balaclava down the alleyway that leads to the post office.’

Bill feigned a look of surprise. ‘You gotta be kidding me! Is he OK, like?’

‘He’s a bit concussed with a broken jaw. The money’s gone. The geezer who attacked him ran off with it.’

‘Nah. Nah. He can’t be doing this to me, Queenie. The boss’ll go bleedin’ well apseshit, love.’

‘Not Albie’s fault he got mugged, is it? You got his wages?’

‘No. I was going to give it to him out of what he’d collected today.’

‘Well, best you drop it off to me first thing in the morning. I need to pay the balance of the boys’ bikes.’

‘I need to speak to the boss first. He seriously ain’t gonna be happy, Queenie.’

‘Well, speaking of not being happy, I’ve heard rumours you’ve been seen out with other women. Sisters talk and believe me, if you cheat on my Vivvy you’ll have me to deal with. Understand?’

Bill smiled as Queenie stomped out the pub. Who did she think she was, Ma bloody Barker? He couldn’t wait until tomorrow to ruin her Christmas completely. That would teach her to keep sticking her oar in where it wasn’t wanted.

Albie had slight concussion and was kept in hospital overnight then allowed home the following morning. His jaw had a slight fracture. It hurt like bloody hell and so did his head where he’d smashed it against the pavement.

‘I’ll make you a cuppa and a fried egg sandwich, then I’m taking the boys round Mum’s. That bastard better turn up with your wages, Albie. Don’t fall asleep, will ya, in case you don’t hear the door.’ Queenie was yet to mention what Cilla had said, but didn’t believe Albie would cheat on her. She would pull him on it, though, when the time was right.

‘What happened to you then, Dad?’ asked Roy.

‘I already told you, your father got mugged. Now go and wash your hands and faces, you three. We’re popping round Nanny’s.’

‘Did you hit the other bloke back?’ Vinny enquired.

‘Sink, now! And wash those ears an’ all. You’ll have carrots growing out of ’em otherwise.’

‘Why ain’t Nan spending Christmas with us this year?’ Michael asked, as they neared his granny’s house.