‘I’m not pestering ya and I am a man of my word, which is why I’m giving you this.’

Jeremy stared inside the envelope. It was filled with bank notes.

‘There’s two hundred and fifty quid in there. I need a favour for my dear Auntie Viv, you see. The old girl who lives next door but one to my mum croaked it the other day. My aunt would love that house. She’s got a son with learning disabilities and she’d be made up to live so close to Mum. Her old man left her, ya see. Dumped her like an old bag of unwanted rubbish, a bit like Felicity would dump you if she ever found out you bat for the other side. So, do we have a deal?’

Jeremy handed the envelope back to Vinny. He had morals, unlike some, didn’t take back-handers. ‘I don’t want your money, Vinny. I just want you to leave me alone. If I get you the keys for the house, will you promise never to contact me again?’

‘Yep. You get me those keys and I swear on my dear mother’s life, that’ll be the last you see or hear of me.’

‘OK. I’ll do my best.’

‘You need to do better than your best, cocker. Only I got my heart set on surprising my aunt with that house and when I don’t get what I want, I get angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.’

Jeremy gulped as Vinny got out of his car. His whole body was trembling as he drove away. A minute down the road Jeremy’s bowels loosened and he shat himself. He rued the day he’d ever met Vinny Butler. The man was a menace.

‘Don’t you be making a fuss of him, Queenie. He’s a dirty boy,’ Viv fumed on her arrival, clouting her eight-year-old son around the head.

‘Oh dear. What ya done now, Lenny?’ giggled nine-year-old Brenda.

‘Don’t laugh,’ Viv hissed. ‘It ain’t funny. He said he wanted a wee, I told him we’d be home soon and what does he do! Flops his dingle-dangle out and pisses in Old Mother Taylor’s evergreens.’

Queenie laughed. She couldn’t stand Old Mother Taylor. Her curtains were black and even her children looked frowsy.

‘It ain’t bleedin’ funny. He’ll get a reputation like that weirdo Peter, Jack’s son, if he ain’t careful. Have you heard what Peter did to young Lucy Potter, Queen? Saw her mother earlier. She called the police. She was livid, poor mare.’

The Potters lived down Queenie’s road. A nice clean family and Lucy seemed a sweet girl. ‘No. What happened?’ Queenie asked, praying the poor girl hadn’t been raped.

‘Peter put his hand inside poor Lucy’s knickers and then made her do things to him. Ya know, dirty things.’

‘Lenny, Brenda, go and play in the garden for a minute, please.’

‘No. Don’t want to,’ Brenda replied.

Brenda was the next to get a clout around the ear. An obstinate child who was becoming far too cocky for her own good of late. ‘Get out there now,’ Queenie said through gritted teeth. ‘Else there’ll be no tea for you and no TV.’