‘So you’re the one married to that old bastard, are you?’ He didn’t step forward. ‘Don’t want to be hitting an old lady.’

‘Vernon sorted all this!’

‘Well, I’m changing it. Can’t let this mongrel get away with what he did just because his old man threatened my old man. Mel wants me here. I saw her.’

Penelope shook her head. ‘No, I don’t believe you. She doesn’t want you here.’

‘She does. Can’t be cowed by bullies like your son here. That’s just letting them win. Now’—he raised a hand and swiped it right—‘move to the side.’

She didn’t move.

‘I have a cricket bat and even if I didn’t I could mow you down like a sack of spuds.’

‘You can’t just come in here and beat people. The law took care of him and he’s suffering.’ She looked at Caleb. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you before.’

He nodded, clearly petrified. She looked back at Brendan and before she could question herself she charged at him, with her small frame, her bony wrists and weak knees. She had never before entered a fight. Only as a girl had she beaten her sister, once, and felt so bad afterwards, having overpowered her, held her down, spat in her eyes, that she never tried it again. She and Vernon had sparred verbally but he had never come close to hitting her.

What she now did surprised this leviathan before her and he back-pedalled a bit, into the hallway, and she was able to grab at his face before he kicked her off. He swung his arm and it was as though she was nothing and she bounced off the doorframe and fell to the floor. She felt something in her wrist tighten and cried out and held it to her chest. He stepped over her. She kept yelling at him.

Margie had not moved from the wall but he went to her anyway and swung the bat at her middle. Penelope could see his back muscles, taut against his T-shirt, and his shoulders hunched forward like he was playing rugby. As the bat hit her, Margie let out a terrific groan, a cow headed for slaughter. She toppled slowly and was crying before she struck the ground. Her arms went out as she crawled away from this monster, who towered over her, shouting something maniacal.

He turned to her son and smashed the bat into the machine near him. Glass flew. Penelope wobbled to her feet, tried to reach him. He swung at the television set and some of the glass shards struck Penelope in the leg and face. She cowered. The bat then came down on Caleb’s stomach. He was sitting up and began scrabbling to find purchase on the floor with his feet, but he slipped and fell and then the bat was up again and driving down into the base of his back. He cried out. The rage that powered this demon striking her son was nothing compared with that which had awoken in her own breast. Her screaming took on a growl like a dragon and was of such volume it caused the demon to stop and look at her. She struggled to her knees and knew that even with this fury her flesh was still old and her bones still weak. Still, she tried to stand.