Many years ago someone had asked her if she thought tragedy stalked some people, and if that person asked her the same question now she would say yes. Tragedy and evil had plagued her family, and they were helpless in the face of it.

She made the tea and carried it through to her husband; he took the proffered mug and sipped on it without a care in the world. She admired him in many ways, nothing really fazed him. He saw everything in black and white, did her Jack. No grey spots for him.

Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen

Bertie Warner decided to have the party for young Vincent at his pub on the Bow Road. He had arranged all the food and drink himself and it promised to be a great night. He couldn’t wait to bring that young lad back into the fold.

As he looked at young Gabriella, who had come over to discuss the music for the party, he saw what had attracted the boy to her. She was exquisite, and she had waited for him – that was always a good sign in a bird as far as he was concerned. She reminded him of his old woman, sensible and calm, which were good traits in a villain’s wife. If the Filth kicked the door in at three in the morning with a search warrant in one hand and a sniffer dog in the other, it was always handy to have a wife who took it in her stride, and kept the kids away from it. Occupational hazards and all that – every job had them.

‘You must be looking forward to seeing him back on the outside, love.’

Gabby nodded happily. ‘It will be great! And I’d like to thank you, Mr Warner, for your help, it’s really appreciated.’

He felt choked, and was surprised that he could still be touched like that after all these years. Most women in her position would be complaining they couldn’t manage on what they were getting; after all, they owed the girl’s old man a huge debt of gratitude. But this little lovely was actually grateful. Wonders would never cease.

‘You’re welcome, love. It doesn’t even begin to cover it. You got a good one there in Vince.’

She beamed at the praise and said honestly, ‘You don’t need to tell me that, Mr Warner. I’ve always known my Vince was special. But I have missed him. I was only sixteen when he got banged up, we’ve never even spent the night together! And now he’s finally coming home to live in our house! How mad is that?’