Jeffrey laughed with him. ‘That is a great analogy, and very true! But listen, Michael, I want to run something by you. I had a visit from an old mate this week. He did a big lump in the nick, but he has been out a good while. He now lives in Spain. He has a couple of nightclubs in the ’Dorm, and he has the contacts to procure any drugs required – in any quantity.’

Michael Flynn sipped his wine; he was not going to join in this conversation until he had to.

Jeffrey Palmer knew the game, but he had downed a few drinks, and he felt secure. Michael Flynn had done him the favour of a lifetime and he wanted to return the favour. He grabbed Michael’s arm roughly, pulling him closer. ‘Look, Michael, from what he tells me, he can undercut anyone.’

Michael pulled his arm away roughly. Leaning forward, he looked into Jeffrey’s eyes, as he said sarcastically, ‘Well, fuck me, Jeff. Let’s ring him now, shall we?’

Jeffrey Palmer was taken aback at Michael’s reaction and, as far as Michael was concerned, so he fucking should be.

‘Listen, Jeffrey. We deal with people who are well under the plods’ radar, who can supply very good gear, and who have always proved themselves to be very reliable. Never once have we ever had even the threat of a tug. Yet you want me to wipe out a friendship and a business partnership that goes back fucking donkey’s years – a partnership that I have recently given to you, remember, and for what exactly? An ex-fucking-con who lives in fucking Benidorm of all places – the arsehole of the world. What the fuck are you on?’

Jeffrey Palmer knew that he had just made a major fuck-up. He had listened to his friend’s spiel and, as he had been promised a much bigger margin on what he was shifting on a weekly basis, it had seemed a far more lucrative venture for all concerned. He had foolishly assumed that Michael Flynn would bite his fucking hand off. But now he understood that he had not only discussed his dealings with an outsider but, to compound his offence, he had been willing to step over the man that Michael Flynn had introduced him to, who he had offered him a partnership with. A partnership he had accepted, and he had been so grateful for the opportunity. He was earning a fucking fortune, more money than he had ever earned in his life, and he was throwing it back in Michael Flynn’s face. That was not a good move. He could see the disgust on Michael’s face, and felt physically ill.