Mary held her granddaughter close and comforted her as best she could, all the time cursing her elder daughter. Why couldn’t she have just stayed away? Why did she want to upend this child’s life on a whim? With Cynthia she had no doubt it would be a whim. No good could come of it.

Chapter Eighty-One

Vincent was waiting patiently outside the bank in Essex. It was twenty past ten in the morning, and Terry Marchant and his two accomplices had just walked into the bank, ski masks over their heads and sawn-offs in their sports bags.

Vincent watched through the window. The bank didn’t get busy until lunchtime and so at nearly ten thirty it was more or less empty with just the three tellers inside and a couple of young mums paying their electric bills. He watched the pantomime unfold inside and, five minutes later, the men were on their way to the car and he was already getting ready to drive away. It had been so easy – too easy really. He was around the roundabout and on his way to Basildon before the first sirens were even heard in the distance.

At Basildon he turned off towards the train station, and the three men, now devoid of ski masks and without their distinctive red tracksuit tops – which were all the bystanders would remember – were relaxed and laughing. The adrenaline rush was over, and their job was done without so much as a hiccough. They chopped the cars with the minimum of fuss, leaving everything behind them except the money, and they were back in Southend within the hour.

Never had Vincent O’Casey had such a spectacular day. And never had he believed that a blag could be that fucking simple. They had netted just under a hundred grand, and he went home ten thousand pounds better off; it was like all his Christmases and birthdays had come at once. The best thing had been that he had loved it, loved every second of it. And tonight he was going to have the greatest night out of his life.

Chapter Eighty-Two

Gabby had never seen so much money before in her life, and her eyes widened in disbelief. Vincent loved seeing her reaction as he showed her his cut.

Gabby looked at him in amazement. ‘Ten grand!’

He grinned. ‘Yes, ten thousand pounds, and keep your voice down or we’ll have your nana and granddad in on top of us in a minute.’

‘They’re out, you div – they’ve gone to bingo with Mrs Jacobs over the road. And Auntie Celly ain’t gonna come in here, she’s watching her soaps. A fucking bomb couldn’t get her away from the telly when Grant Mitchell’s on.’