‘Stop it, Cynth, we’re earning a good wage. He gives us more than anyone else would.’ Jimmy watched as his wife rolled her eyes dramatically and shook her head in abject disbelief.

‘Huh, only you would say something that fucking stupid. They are the ones on a good earn, not us! They are making fucking mugs of us. You might be content with fuck-all, but I’m not.’

Jimmy looked at his wife and, for the first time in years, he knew he had to fight her, had to make her see sense. He knew that if he wasn’t careful she would queer their pitch once and for all. This had been coming for a long time, and he knew he had to nip this latest tantrum in the bud. She was getting too outrageous even for him. If only she could understand their world like normal people, but he knew that was never going to be the case. So now he had to finally stop her in her tracks.

Jonny Parker had already said as much and, in fairness to him, he had a point. Cynthia was a liability, and he knew that better than anyone. She had a trap that was dangerous, she never knew when to shut the fuck up. He also knew that if he didn’t sort her out then Jonny would have to make sure someone else did the dirty deed. They were all in it up to their necks, and he had no interest in being sidelined because his wife was a loose cannon.

‘We are on a seriously good earn if only you would see that. We get a percentage of everything, Cynth. Where else would we get that, eh?’

Cynthia laughed derisively as if he was a complete fool, then shouted angrily, ‘Oh, have a day off, James, will you, for fuck’s sake! You’re such a mug! We’re not earning fuck-all in comparison to that lot, you’re a fucking joke . . .’

‘Don’t, Cynth, not tonight, don’t start now . . .’

Cynthia was shaking her head slowly and deliberately as if she was in the presence of the greatest moron since Benny off Crossroads. But Jimmy shook his own head then, and she suddenly realised that she was pushing him too far. Looking at him now, his face contorted with anger, his heavy body taut with rage, she saw that her constant criticism had finally hit home. He looked menacing and dangerous; after all, he had had a good teacher and she forgot at times how his life had changed. He was playing with the big boys now and picking up their bad habits. He was looking at her with distrust, with an anger she didn’t know he possessed. He looked capable of anything, and she knew it was in her interests to leave it for a while. That she should temper her barbs, not make her anguish so plain.