Joey laughed as she walked towards the table. ‘Why do you waste your money on those things? I’ve told you before, gambling’s for mugs,’ he said as she sat down.

Spending their days in the café in Dagenham with a group of their friends was a regular pastime for Frankie and Joey. The café was owned by the sister of one of their best mates and she always allowed them to hang out there. Sometimes they went to school, but most days they couldn’t face it. They would wave to their mum as she dropped them off and as soon as she drove away, they would cross the road and catch the bus to Dagenham.

Neither Joey nor Frankie were fans of their school uniform, so they always carried a spare set of clothes with them. They would get changed upstairs on the bus, then would change back into their school uniform on the return journey.

Neither of their parents were aware of what they got up to. Both the twins smoked and drank and sometimes they would stand on the corner totally wasted, waiting for their mum to pick them up. They were always careful, though, and only stuck to vodka, as it had no smell. Their mum would go apeshit if she knew, and their dad would probably rip their heads off.

Writing sick notes had become second nature to both of them. Joey wrote Frankie’s, copying his mum’s handwriting, and Frankie returned the favour for Joey, copying her dad’s.

‘What’s the time?’ Frankie asked her brother.

‘Half-one,’ Joey replied.

‘I’m bored sitting here. Let’s go to the park and drink our vodka, eh?’

Joey shrugged and turned to their friends. All of them were partial to a tipple, but Frankie was an absolute nightmare. Joey stood up and urged the others to do the same.

‘Come on, Alkie Annie wants her daily fix,’ he joked.

Laughing, the six good mates left the café together.

Stanley smiled as his daughter tucked into her ham-salad sandwich. She was a breath of fresh air, his Jessica, and even now, at thirty-three, she was still as beautiful as ever.

‘So, how are your pigeons, Stanley? Are you still racing them?’ Vicki enquired.

Stanley loved nothing more than discussing his birds and launched into a full account of their day-to-day activities. He liked Jessica’s friend and was pleased that his daughter had someone local to turn to if she ever needed her help.

Stanley still didn’t like or trust Eddie. His son, Raymond, had turned into a clone of the man and he was extremely bitter about it. Stanley had little option but to play happy families. He loved his daughter and grandchildren so, all in all, Eddie had him by the bollocks.