Sadie leant on the table and said gently, ‘You are a right fucking Herbert. But all that aside, just forget about it. No one thinks any the less of you. There’s not many men would fight over the likes of me in the first place, and none of the people in here would fight Lewis over me, you, or anything. Just let it go, Timmy.’

Georgio picked up a piece of carrot and popped it into his mouth.

‘Sadie’s right, Timmy. No one thinks any the less of you. Look at me, Lewis has got me by the bollocks. Just go with the flow, mate, and wait till he gets fed up.’

Timmy shook his head. ‘I know you mean well, but I have to sort this lot out for meself . . .’ Changing the subject abruptly, he said to Sadie, ‘What did you think of the three-piece suite scam! Cor, it didn’t half make me laugh!’

Timmy’s face was open and smiling, and Sadie felt a rush of affection for the large-bellied man before him.

‘It was so funny. Especially when old Borga was doing the count. I nearly pissed meself.’

Georgio grinned. ‘He’s a headbanger, that Dawsie. Me and Chopper were in hysterics.’

The three men laughed but the atmosphere in the kitchen dropped to zero as they saw Donald Lewis standing in the doorway.

‘How’s my dinner coming on, Sadie?’

She smiled pleasantly. ‘I’m well ahead of me schedule, Mr Lewis, and I’m cooking it in the pressure cooker, so it’ll be done in the next forty minutes.’

Lewis looked at Timmy and Georgio and after a few seconds he said loudly, ‘Lovely little cook, my Sadie. Good with her hands - but then you already know that, Timmy, don’t you?’

Timmy stood stock still, his face devoid of colour. When he didn’t answer, Lewis walked a few steps closer to him and said huskily, ‘Good with her mouth and all. Lovely tongue, eh, Timmy? I bet you miss that, don’t you?’

Then, laughing gaily at Timmy’s dark countenance, he said to Georgio, ‘You should have a try out of Sadie, Brunos. I hear the Greeks like a bit of shirtlifting.’

Georgio shook his head. ‘Not this Greek. And anyway, I’m English.’

Lewis smiled, his flat grey eyes like pieces of concrete. ‘You’re not English. You’re second-generation Bubble and Irish. Two nations of scum. You’re not English, not by a long chalk.’

Turning to Timmy he said, ‘Out! Now! And if I see you near Sadie again, I’ll make you wish you were dying of cancer.’

Timmy hesitated for a fraction of a second and Lewis bellowed into his face: ‘You heard me. Get out!’

Timmy rushed from the room.