Ignoring his pleas, Eddie did a left out of the pub car park. He knew a quiet little spot, a couple of miles away. Ever since his father’s cruel death, Eddie had found that his violent streak had worsened. He had always enjoyed a bit of rough and tumble and an odd finger or thumb dismembered, but finding his father the way he did had made him more brutal than ever.

Eddie drove down to the bottom of a road that led only to high-grass wasteland and turned off the engine. Relieved that there wasn’t anyone in sight, Eddie opened the driver’s door. ‘Get out,’ he ordered the shivering wreck previously known as big, bold Tommy Trott.

‘I will pay you back, Eddie. Please don’t hurt me,’ Trottsy begged.

Eddie laughed as his expensive black leather shoe repeatedly made contact with Trottsy’s head. As Tommy’s front teeth flew onto a nearby rock, the blood running down his throat hampered his speech.

‘Please, Eddie, please! I’m sorry,’ he slurred in pain.

Realising that Eddie was losing the plot, Raymond tried to drag him away. ‘Come on, Ed, you’ve made your point. Give him a chance to pay up,’ Ray shouted.

‘Made me point, made me fucking point! I’ve known this cunt for years. Taken the right piss out of me, he has. Fuck the money, I want him dead.’

Hearing a dog bark, Raymond grabbed Eddie and shook him. ‘There’s someone coming. Let’s go, come on. Think of Jess, for fuck’s sake.’

The mention of his wife’s name and a Rottweiler bounding towards him was enough to snap Eddie out of his violent trance. Tommy Trott’s face was barely recognisable as Eddie aimed a farewell kick at it. ‘Next week I want my money or you’re dead, you cunt,’ he spat.

Raymond bundled Eddie into the passenger side of the Land Cruiser. Both men had clocked that the Rottweiler was sniffing around Trottsy, licking his wounds. ‘Buster, Buster!’ its owner was yelling in the distance.

Raymond jumped into the driver’s seat and did a speedy three-point turn. Putting his foot down, he pulled away just as the dog’s owner came into full view. ‘That was close. You don’t think Trottsy will say ought, do you?’

Eddie smirked. ‘What do you think? The mug’s jaw is smashed to smithereens. Would you say ought? I bet he can’t even speak for a month.’

Raymond headed towards his new house. He had recently purchased a property in Gidea Park, Romford. Meeting Polly had prompted him to move out of his previous address. Polly had class and he wanted to show her that he had it, too. ‘We’ll go to my house. You’re covered in claret, you can’t go home like that. You can borrow something of mine, it’ll save Jess having kittens.’