‘Do we have to go the Roman again? It’s boring,’ Brenda sulked the following morning.

‘Why don’t I look after the kids today, Queen? You and Viv can have a bit of peace then, if you’re going out for lunch. I’ll rustle the kids up some grub ’ere.’

Queenie looked at her husband with suspicion. Every Saturday, without fail, he would spend most of the day in the pub, playing cards, gambling on horses and drinking himself into a stupor. ‘Are you ill?’

‘No. Why d’ya say that?’

‘Because you always go to the pub on a Saturday.’

‘An old pal of mine is having a birthday party tonight. Custom House he lives, so I thought I might go to that instead,’ Albie fibbed. The real reason he wanted to go out tonight was because Maureen had invited him over for dinner. The twins were spending the weekend with their father, so he’d certainly get his leg over again.

‘You’re up to something.’

Albie felt himself twitch. Was it that bloody obvious? No. It couldn’t be. ‘Whaddya mean?’

‘I bet it’s free booze at the party, ain’t it?’

Feeling relieved, Albie chuckled. ‘You know me far too well, Queenie.’

Vinny met his mum and aunt outside Woolworths. ‘Give us your bags. I’ll carry those,’ he insisted. ‘What the pair of ya bought?’

‘We’ll show you in the pub,’ Queenie replied.

‘What d’ya fancy to eat? I’ll take you somewhere posh, a nice restaurant if you like?’

Viv turned up her nose. ‘I dunno about you, Queen, but I quite fancy our usual, pie and mash.’

‘Me too. Shall we have a couple of drinks first though? I’m not overly hungry at the moment.’

‘Suits me,’ Viv agreed.

‘Christ, you two are easy to please. The pub it is then,’ Vinny laughed.

The pubs in the market were packed, so Vinny led his mum and aunt along to Fairfield Road and they got a table straight away in the Caledonian Arms.

‘Hello, Vinny. How’s tricks, mate?’

‘Yeah. All good, thanks, Bob. Just treating me mum and aunt to a few drinks and a bit of grub. You can’t beat spending time with the family eh, mate.’

‘Most certainly not, and what a beautiful mother and aunt you have,’ Bob smiled, lifting Queenie’s hand up to kiss it and then Viv’s.

‘Who’s he?’ Queenie asked her son.

‘Bob the Bookie. OK, he is. Comes from a family of villains. His father is inside for murder.’

When a couple more men came over to shake hands with Vinny, Queenie was as pleased as punch. Her boy wasn’t even sixteen yet and already he was making a name for himself.

‘Bleedin’ old pervert,’ Viv said.

‘Who?’

‘Him. The hand kisser. I’m going a toilet, wash me hands. Could be lice in that moustache of his.’

Queenie roared with laughter as Viv left the table. ‘What’s that?’ she asked when Vinny put her and Viv’s drinks down.

‘Gin and tonic.’

‘Oh, we’ve gone off that. We prefer a sherry now.’