Having laid awake most of the night, Queenie remembered other things too. She was reasonably friendly with Jeanie Thomas, who also worked on Whitechapel market, and Queenie was damn sure Jeanie’s son Trevor had got engaged to Slack Alice’s daughter not that long ago. Jeanie hadn’t been happy about it, wasn’t struck on the girl, but Queenie could not remember why. She’d bloody find out why tomorrow though when she paid Jeanie a visit.

‘Queenie! You’re slacking again. Come into the parlour now, please.’

Queenie threw down her feather duster and rolled her eyes. ‘Coming, Mrs Huntingdon-Brown.’

Vinny walked into a pub in Bow and ordered himself a neat brandy. Suited and booted these days, Vinny never got questioned about his age. He wore his black hair Brylcreemed back and at over six foot could easily pass for eighteen.

Sauntering over to an empty table, Vinny took a sip of brandy. It burned the back of his throat. He didn’t really like alcohol, hadn’t touched a drop since knocking around with that perve Macca. But today he’d been on tenterhooks and was hoping the brandy would calm his nerves a bit. His mother had drummed it into him at an early age via her bedtime stories that if an opportunity arose, especially if a wrong un was involved, he should stampede all over that person.

Vinny took the newspaper article out of his pocket and read it again. The meeting started at seven p.m. and was being held in Poplar Town Hall, which was actually situated in Bow. Ever since the war had ended, due to the loss of so many homes, the local councils had been building tower blocks of flats. His mum hated them, said she’d never live in one, but lots of people liked them because they were brand spanking new and modern. That’s what the meeting was about. A couple of new tower blocks had recently been built in Poplar and local councillor Jeremy Johnson was chairing the meeting which would eventually decide who moved into those properties.

Studying the photo of Jeremy Johnson, his wife Katherine and their two children Oscar and Felicity, Vinny couldn’t help but smirk. He knew Jeremy Johnson well, of course, but not under that name. He knew him as Geoff, the man who’d always made a beeline for him at Marnie’s club.

Vinny glanced at his watch, then downed the rest of his brandy. It was time to reacquaint himself with Jeremy. His mother needed a better house.

Vinny sat at the back and kept his head bowed as Jeremy rambled on. There was a projector screen showing stills of the inside of the flats and Vinny could understand why lots of people were interested in them.

The bathrooms were immaculate and modern, as were the kitchens. The front room and bedrooms were a decent size too.

The elderly woman next to Vinny nudged him. ‘Bigger rooms than in my tinpot house and how lovely it must be to have an inside toilet and a proper bath. I’m still using a tin bath and me toilet’s outside. I’m putting my name down for one, are you?’