‘Ten o’clock. I’ve arranged a meet with dad for two. I wanna go to the café first, then we’d best pop our heads in the Flag, see if them bastards did any damage last night, before we meet the others.’

Ronny propped himself up and squinted at Eddie through one eye. ‘Sorry if I was a bit out of order last night. Jess is a top girl and I really do want you to be happy.’

Eddie smiled. ‘Forget it. Now get your fucking arse in gear, I’m starving.’

A full English fry-up was followed by the trip to their local. As Eddie walked in, he was relieved to see that the pub still looked intact. John, the guv’nor, was out, so he got the lowdown off Betsy, the barmaid.

‘They never touched the bar area, but the sinks in the gents were pulled off the wall. Dirty, foul-mouthed bastards they were. You should have heard the things they were saying to Kim, the pretty new barmaid. She burst into tears in the end and I had to send her home.’

Eddie ordered himself and Ronny a drink. ‘Did they cause agg with any of the regulars?’ he asked.

Betsy shook her head. ‘All the regulars left soon after they arrived. They were so bloody loud, no one could hear themselves think.’

Eddie told Betsy to keep the change and thanked her for the information. ‘Tell John I’ll pop back and see him tomorrow. And if anyone comes in asking for protection money, tell him not to pay it.’

‘You don’t think they’ll come back, do you?’ Betsy asked. ‘Only, I’m in here on me own till tonight.’

‘I doubt it. We’ll have to pay ’em a little visit, let ’em know they’re not welcome.’

Betsy smiled. She loved Eddie Mitchell: he was handsome, had a real presence about him and she wished she was twenty years younger.

Eddie and Ronny left the Flag and drove straight over to Whitechapel.

* * *

Auntie Joan let them in and gave them both a big hug. ‘Your father, brothers and Uncle Reg are already upstairs. You go on up and I’ll bring you up some tea and sandwiches.’

Eddie got straight down to business. His dad, Uncle Reg and brothers sat quietly as the story of the O’Haras unfolded. No one said a word until he’d finished, then Ronny was the first to speak.

‘They’re obviously trying it on on our turf again. I bet they go round all our boozers and start demanding protection money. I think we should go in the Chobham with shooters. Can you imagine their faces if the five of us walked in armed?’