Working for Tommy McNulty wasn’t panning out quite as he’d expected. He hated being the new kid. Some days he felt like a glorified errand boy and he was tired of it. Maybe that was why he’d always preferred to work alone? No need to impress anyone. No requirement to ‘fit in’. Of course, he was always needed when something was about to kick off, but he knew he wasn’t being let anywhere near the real danger – or the real money. He was never invited to the quiet little meetings at Tommy’s club, or the after-hours drinking sessions when the good whisky came out.

Of course, there was a certain kudos that came with being associated with someone like Tommy, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that his boss was either waiting for him to prove himself – or to fuck up, and Nathan didn’t have the patience to wait and see which one happened first.

Maybe he’d just keep managing the bar? Tell Tommy that Grace needed him there and he just didn’t have time for anything else. Could he do that? Just walk away from Tommy McNulty? Surely the fact that it was to manage the Rose and Crown and look after Grace would make Tommy more amenable to the situation, given Tommy’s connection to Grace’s dad. A connection that Grace was entirely unaware of and one that Tommy insisted she would never find out about.

Yes, his mind was made up. Tomorrow he was going to talk to Tommy. Thank him for the opportunity he’d given him but tell him that he couldn’t do it anymore. He was going to concentrate on being the landlord of the pub. He had loads of ideas to bring in more business. Live bands. Maybe some food? Quiz nights. He laughed quietly as he turned to bury his head in the pillow. Nathan Conlon going legit. Who’d have thought it?

Tommy McNulty handed Kenny the glass of Scotch he’d just poured. Kenny Lennox had been his right-hand man since his best mate, Patrick Carter, had got sent down for a twelve stretch. Kenny had been with him since the beginning, but the sad truth was that, at the age of forty, Kenny was already past it. One too many run-ins with a fist or a baseball bat, and on one occasion a crow-bar, had left him with a dodgy knee and a bad shoulder. He’d never been the brightest bulb in any case, but the repeated blows to the head had left him with little in the way of the old grey matter. It was only a matter of time before Kenny was replaced by a younger, stronger model. And Tommy knew exactly who that man would be. He’d been grooming the lad ever since he’d met him.