‘What the hell! What you doing?’ Albie sat up, startled.

‘Waking you. Now think and think carefully. Vinny still isn’t home and I need to find him. Where did Micky say Marnie’s nephew lived?’

Albie put his wet head in his hands. ‘Micky’s dead, Queen. Walked straight out in front of that bus. Eyewitnesses say he did it on purpose.’

‘Yes, I know. You told me last night. But at this precise moment, I’m more worried about our eldest son, who could be any-bloody-where. Think, Albie, think,’ Queenie spat.

‘Let me wake up a bit and then I’ll have a think.’

‘No. You’ll think now! Our Vinny could be in all types of danger and all you’re worried about is that piss-pot Micky.’

Albie looked at his wife in horror. ‘Don’t speak about him like that. The man’s brown bread.’

‘And so might our son be, for all we know,’ Queenie shrieked. ‘Get your sodding priorities right and use your brain, for once.’

Vinny woke up in Macca’s bed feeling as rough as a badger’s arse. He had no recollection of the journey home or getting undressed. He remembered throwing up though, all over Lady Rose. She went mental at him, like a woman possessed.

Macca propped himself up on his elbow. ‘How you feeling?’

‘Like death warmed up. How did we get home?’

‘My aunt got a friend to drive us. You were sick in her motor. You proper let yourself and me down last night, Vinny. How much did you drink? I warned you before we went not to get sloshed. Lady Rose was fucking livid. My aunt weren’t best pleased either. You got a lot of making up to do, you have.’

Vinny swung his legs over the side of the bed and put his thumping head in his hands. Thankfully he still had his pants on. ‘She was horrible, that Lady Rose.’ It was all coming back to him now, what had happened at the mansion.

‘Whaddya mean?’

‘She didn’t want me to finger her, like you told me to. She wanted me to do something else to her. Something really vulgar.’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t wanna talk about it. I ain’t never going to one of those parties again though. Not ever.’

‘Chances are you’d never be invited again, mate. My aunt’s fucking fuming, if you want the truth. You’re the first lad ever to sick your guts up over one of the guests.’

‘Will I still be able to keep my job at the club?’ Vinny asked.

‘I dunno. We’ll have to see. I’ll put in a good word for you once Aunt Marnie calms down a bit. Don’t turn up there tomorrow though. Take a couple of days off while I try to clear the air for ya.’

Vinny was worried. He’d earned nothing last night, not a bean. ‘What’s the time? I’d better get going soon. Me mum’ll be worried.’

‘She’ll be even more worried if you go home like that. You stink of booze and your eyes look like pissholes in the snow. It’s only early, not even seven yet. I’ll get you some headache tablets. Go back to sleep for a couple of hours. You’ll look and feel much better for it.’