In the trendy Liverpool Street wine bar, Joey smiled as Dominic excused himself to make an important phone call. Joey had come up to meet him for lunch and his boyfriend was taking the rest of the afternoon off so they could spend some time together.

As Dominic returned to the table, he tenderly rubbed Joey’s leg. ‘I’ve just booked us a posh hotel for the afternoon,’ he said, as he brushed his hand teasingly over Joey’s thigh.

Thrilled that he was in an area where nobody knew him and he could be himself, Joey squeezed Dominic’s hand. ‘Let’s finish our drinks and go there now,’ he said excitedly.

Standing not twenty feet away was an extremely interested spectator. Darren Palmer was the son of one of Ronny Mitchell’s friends. He recognised Joey, knew exactly who he was – they had been at junior school together. He also knew who Dominic was, as his mate worked with him in the City and referred to him as the bum boy. Watching the two queers walk out of the pub, Darren almost flew to the phone box.

‘’Ere, Dad, you’ll never guess who I’ve just seen. Eddie Mitchell’s son, Joey, was all over some bender called Dominic. They were virtually at it in the pub – they were fondling and all sorts.’

As they ended the call, Terry Palmer couldn’t stop smiling. He had never liked that flash bastard, Eddie Mitchell. Paulie and Ronny were good lads, but Eddie was too far shoved up his own arse. Joey Mitchell, a poofta. Whoever would have thought it, eh? You just couldn’t make it up!

Punching in Ronny Mitchell’s number on his mobile, Terry Palmer could barely speak through laughing.

* * *

Southend was heaving with people and Frankie wished she had suggested somewhere else.

‘What’s up? Not bored with me already, are ya?’ Jed teased, knowing full well she wasn’t.

Frankie smiled. They had played in the amusement arcades, strolled along the beach, eaten fish and chips and Jed had even won a big teddy bear for her, which they were carrying with them. ‘Shall we go somewhere quieter, where we can be alone?’ Frankie asked him.

‘We can get some booze and I’ll book us a room, if you like,’ Jed suggested.

Desperate to get intimate with him, Frankie grinned. ‘I’d like that Jed, I really would.’

Unable to lift the large silver chest, Eddie urged Raymond to give him a hand.

‘Christ almighty! It looks like something out of Gulliver’s Travels – the bastard thing’s fucking heavy,’ Raymond moaned.

‘Quick, cover it over with them sacks,’ Eddie ordered, as he spotted Iris in her garden again.

Lugging it into his father’s house, Eddie noticed the nosy old cow peering over the fence. ‘Just clearing up all the branches, Iris,’ he shouted.

Once inside the house, Eddie flicked the lid of the chest open.