His reputation was his greatest asset, and he used it to his advantage. He took thirty-five per cent of the monies that he collected, plus the ten grand up front he insisted on, to be paid whether he collected the debt requested or not. It was for his expenses and his time, and he saw that as his due. He was known and respected as a man who did the job required of him, not only quickly but, more importantly, quietly. If Terence Brown arrived on a doorstep, the person concerned made sure that they found the money needed as quickly as humanly possible. He was known to dispose of anyone who was unable to pay him. He saw failure to pay as a grave personal insult to him, and his retaliation as a reminder to anyone he might call on in the future. Terence Brown had carved a good life for himself, against the odds, and it was something he was proud of.

He glanced around the pub. It was Friday night, and it was packed out as usual. He paid for his drink, and sipped it carefully as he scanned the bar. It was just after ten and the place was buzzing – the music was loud and the conversations were louder. A bird he hooked up with occasionally was already walking towards him, and he smiled widely at her. She was a great-looking girl, all blond hair, minimal clothes and fake tan. She was also a good laugh. That was the main attraction for him – so few people caught his attention, but her sense of humour impressed him. She was looking for a Face, he knew. He wasn’t going to get caught up in that shite, though. If, and it was a big if, he ever did decide to marry, it wouldn’t be to someone who had lain down with anybody who bought her a few drinks and paid for the odd meal.

‘I thought that was you, Terence!’ He grinned at her, happy that she never made the mistake of pretending they had a real relationship. So many girls in her position tried to manufacture a closeness that wasn’t there.

‘I was passing, so I thought I’d pop in, Jan, and see if you fancied a quick drink?’

Janice Evans smiled widely. She liked Terence Brown a lot, he was always so nice to her, and she had a feeling that he liked her much more than he let on. ‘That sounds lovely, Terence. I’ll have a JD and Diet Coke.’

He ordered her drink, and Janice was chatting away, laughing and joking, when she realised that Terence wasn’t listening to a word she was saying. She followed his gaze, and saw that he was watching a couple at the bar with an interest that wasn’t exactly healthy. She grabbed his arm tightly and, as he looked down at her, she said huffily, ‘Are you all right, Terence?’