It never occurred to her that dumping her children at will, not loving either of them, and placing impossible demands on them might have had something to do with her son’s illness and her daughter’s desperate craving for love. In fact, Cynthia was proud of her Gabriella; she was doing all right, and so long as she let her have Cherie she would remain in her good books.

It was Vincent that Cynthia had the main problem with these days. He didn’t like her having too much to do with the child. She knew she had to sort something out there. He needed taking down a peg or two. Since he had been released he thought he was the dog’s gonads – well, what man didn’t?

She smiled at the thought of bringing him down, and she drove back to her house lighter in spirit, with her little Cherie chattering away beside her.

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Six

The Golds had been watching the bank in Borough Green for the last few weeks and they knew down to the last detail who went in and who went out, at what times the bank was quiet, and when it was busy. On one specific day in every month, the bank held over one hundred thousand pounds before it was taken away by guards. Today they were sitting in a small coffee bar, watching the handover with interest.

There were three men outside the vehicle, and two inside – one driving, the other riding shotgun – so they were going to need to get the safety deposit box before they hit the inside of the back doors. It seemed to be a doddle.

The guards appeared very complacent, joking with the manager, and acting very relaxed. That was the beauty of carrying out robberies in small villages; they looked sleepy, and no one thought anything bad could happen in them. With sawn-off shotguns and the element of surprise to their advantage, this would be over in minutes.

Pleased with the day’s findings, the Golds got into their nondescript car and drove away sedately, sure that this was going to go without a hitch.

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Seven

‘Well, she’s asleep. Surely you don’t expect me to wake her up!’ Cynthia’s voice was low, but full of contempt. Vincent was on the phone asking why she had not brought his daughter back as arranged.

She had not said when she would be bringing her back for definite, she had just said maybe Sunday night. Anyway, she had rung her daughter earlier and left a message to say that Cherie was a bit under the weather and then she had put her to bed. It wasn’t her fault that Gabriella had not checked her messages and she said as much. But Vincent was not a happy bunny.

‘You know she should be here, Cynthia, she’s got school tomorrow.’