‘Truthfully, I only live among those I can trust. You East Enders look after each other like the Irish do. Community spirit is important and Mum’s happy in Whitechapel. People treat us like one of their own. Sod living in some poncey area where people look down their noses at us. I’d be clumping someone every other day if I lived around this neck of the woods,’ chuckled Daniel.

‘I’m so pleased you moved opposite. Your mum is like a second mum to me.’

‘And you’re like a little sister to me and Patrick. Never forget that.’ Daniel leaned closer to Queenie. ‘Any problems you ever have, you go to Mum. You can tell her anything, then if need be, me and Patrick will sort it for you.’

Queenie looked into Daniel’s eyes and in that split second, she knew who had killed Ivan Tumbleweed.

‘What do Daniel and Patrick actually do for a living?’ Queenie asked. She had no intention of mentioning to Mary the conversation she’d had with Daniel. But in a way it had made her feel good, powerful in fact. If she hadn’t opened up to Mary, that nonce would still be alive. He didn’t deserve to be. It was a good thing he was dead and unable to do what he’d done to her to any other poor girl.

‘My boys have their fingers in many pies, Queenie. I don’t ask too much ’cause I would only worry. If they ever need an alibi, I’m there for them though. I encouraged them to make something of their lives. Law-abiding citizens like us get nowhere. I urged them to take risks, now they’re reaping the rewards,’ winked Mary.

‘They look so smart, always.’

‘Yes. I drummed it into ’em at an early age that appearance is extremely important. First impressions count massively. I had ’em strutting around in suits at thirteen. Not at school, obviously. But as soon as they got home, they’d change into their suits before going out and doing odd jobs. They got in with a couple of villains, did bits and bobs for them. Their reputations have just grown from there. People know they can be trusted. They’re good men. Daniel can be a handful when he loses his temper. He’s calmed down a bit of late, mind. Patrick keeps an eye on him.’

‘Did you ever want a daughter, Mary?’

‘Daughters are a worry. Sons are a joy, if you raise ’em right. From an early age, I used to make up bedtime stories for the boys. I told ’em that one day they’d be kings with enough money to buy whatever they wanted. We were piss poor at the time, but they never forgot those stories. I believe children need moulding at an early age into what you want them to be.’

Queenie smiled. It was nice to hear Mary open up about her sons. ‘I would love to one day have sons like yours. Not sure I will though. After what happened, the thought of a man touching me fills me with panic.’ That wasn’t strictly true as Queenie often fantasized about Daniel touching her. She could hardly tell Mary that though.