Still, it was nice to see his house full, and watch his wife play the hostess; she did it so well. He was going to make sure that the men he dealt with got the personal touch. He would invite them here with their wives for dinner. He would bring this house to life, and give his Josephine the opportunity to shine. He was so proud of her today. She had taken the onus off Carmel and, at the same time, she had made sure that people saw that he was the real deal. He couldn’t help feeling as he looked around him that he was where he deserved to be. He had worked for this. He had learnt from the master, and now he could feel pride in what he had achieved.

He was still a young man, yet he had just inherited the biggest prize of all. He had taken on Patrick Costello’s mantle, and no one had questioned that. Michael knew he had his creds, but he had still expected at least one person to challenge him. He planned his defence down to the last detail – he was not going to give anything away without a fucking fight. He was prepared to wipe out anyone who even looked like they might want to try it on. Yet he had been wrong. It seemed that everyone accepted his new role. Personally, he would have been straight in there, sooner rather than later; if he was in their shoes, he would have done everything in his power to take him out. This was the only chance anyone was going to get to push themselves ahead in the game for a long time, Michael was determined about that.

Declan brought him over a large whisky, and he took it gratefully.

‘Old Joey Murphy is on top form. He loves a fucking Irish funeral. He wants to sing.’

Michael laughed. It was the icing on the cake. He dragged Declan over to the old boy; he was eighty if he was a day, and an old IRA man. He could cause a fight in an empty house with a drink in him. He had buried his children – three handsome sons. Two had been murdered, the youngest had died in prison of cancer. He was a real character, and he was always given the respect he was due. He was a great singer of Irish songs.

‘Come on, Joey, how about “The Wild Colonial Boy”? Patrick always loved that one.’

Joey was thrilled to be singled out, and he sang the song with real feeling, knowing that everyone would join in the chorus.

Michael saw Josephine watching him, and he winked at her, before opening his arms wide. She walked into his embrace unhesitatingly; this was where she always wanted to be.