Raymond had been employed by Eddie since he was eighteen years old and he’d always worked bloody hard. He had left school at sixteen with medium qualifications and high hopes of getting a record deal with his band. It hadn’t happened and, with his dreams shattered, Raymond had given up his music career and taken on a job as a trainee butcher. From the word go, he hated the job. The smell was disgusting, the sawdust they put on the floor got down his throat and the sight of dead animals turned his guts. Listening to his complaints one day, Eddie had offered him a lifeline.

‘I need someone to work in the salvage yard. I’ll give you the address – go down there first thing Monday morning and ask for Pete. I’ll tell him to expect you.’

Raymond had started work there that day and had never looked back since. He no longer resembled a skinny little rock star. The physical nature of the job had given him muscles he had never known existed. His mother had been embarrassing him lately whenever her friends came round.

‘Look at my Raymond. Six foot tall and built like a brick shithouse, ain’t he?’ she’d say proudly. ‘Nothing like his father.’

‘Left here and then left again, Stanley,’ Joyce yelled, making Raymond jump out of his skin.

Annoyed at yet again being told what to do, Stanley drove the Cortina along his daughter’s drive at speed and then slammed his foot on the brake. Seeing Joyce’s head nearly hit the dashboard, he chuckled as he got out.

‘You silly old bastard, you’ve nearly bloody killed me. I bet I’ve got whiplash now because of you.’

Holding the door open for his wife, Stanley winked at Raymond. ‘I’m so sorry, dear. It’s these new shoes you bought me, my foot must have slipped.’

As Frankie and Joey ran out to greet their nan, Joyce’s whiplash was forgotten.

‘Hello, my babies. Give your nanna a big kiss.’

Joey clung to one of her hands and Frankie the other. ‘Have you brought us any presents, Nanny?’ Frankie asked bluntly.

‘Yep, but you can’t have them till after your dinner.’

Playfully scolding her daughter, Jessica welcomed her family. ‘So lovely to see you all. Cheekier by the day, my Frankie’s getting. Take no notice of her,’ she laughed.

Once inside the house, Joyce took it upon herself to give her husband and son the grand tour. Both of them had seen the house before, but not in its finished state. ‘Look at the downstairs bathroom – marble them tiles are. Handsome, aren’t they?’

Barely giving them a chance to look, Joyce dragged Stanley and Raymond into the lounge. ‘Look at that chandelier, Stanley. Ain’t it beautiful, Raymond? Cost an absolute fortune that did. Pure crystal, it is – ain’t it, Jess?’