Jessie watched in shocked amazement as her mother shouted back loudly, ‘Go on then, I dare you. But it won’t be easy. A fucking cannon couldn’t get through there. My husband will fucking be here any minute, and he will kill you. He will fucking take you out, mate, and laugh while he does it.’

She shut the balcony doors and pulled the wooden shutters across, locking them quickly. Then, as she ran from the room, Jessie followed her mother down the stairs, and into her father’s office.

‘Mum, we need to phone the police!’

‘No, we don’t! They are the last people we want on the fucking doorstep!’

Jessie Flynn couldn’t believe her ears. ‘Mum! We need to get the police here now!’

Josephine was opening the large safe Michael used for his cash, and Jessie watched as her mother removed a large shotgun. Priming it expertly, she pushed her daughter out of the door roughly and, standing in the hallway with the gun aimed at the front door, she bellowed, ‘For the last time, Jessie, will you do what you’re told for once. We don’t need the police, OK? I’ve already rung for help. Now will you just move it!’

Jessie heard the urgency in her mother’s voice, and she ran up the staircase quickly, but she turned at the top of the landing, and watched her mother – her quiet, kind-hearted mother – calmly lock all the downstairs doors, before she once more positioned herself in the centre of the hallway, the gun cocked, her lovely face set into a grimace of hate.

This was unbelievable – it was like something from a TV programme! There were men outside trying to get in, trying to burgle them and, instead of phoning the police, her mum was preparing to take them on single-handed. It was wrong. It was terrifying. This was something that the police should be dealing with, surely? Her dad knew the police, they were always round the house having meetings with him.

She was shaking with fear now. She sat on the top stair and, pulling her nightdress over her knees, she watched her mother as if she had never seen her before. And she hadn’t – not this mother, anyway. This was a woman Jessie had never met before. This was a woman Jessie was actually frightened of.

She heard glass shattering – the men had smashed through the back door. She saw her mother turn towards the locked and bolted kitchen door, the gun poised, and ready to discharge. This was a nightmare. None of this was happening.

‘I’m armed, and I will blow you away, you bastards. I’m warning you now. Go while you still have a chance.’

The sound of cars screeching to a halt on the gravel drive was loud, and she saw the relief on her mother’s face. Then she heard her dad’s voice.