‘But it’s not because of that, Georgio. It’s because every time she visits it’ll become harder and harder to talk to you. You’ll always be listening for her to say something incriminating, something you can pounce on, and eventually she’ll lose patience and you’ll be convinced you’ve been proved right. When in effect she’ll dump you because it’s all too much like hard work. That’s when she’ll meet someone else, mate, someone who tells her all the things you should be telling her only you’re too stubborn and too ignorant to bother. Because you sit here day in and day out imagining her on the job with every Tom, Dick and Harry. You’re a fool, Georgio. A twenty-two-carat fool.’

Georgio listened to his little friend with shock. Never had Sadie spoken to him like this.

‘What makes you such an authority then?’

He smiled. ‘I’ll tell you what makes me such an authority. I’ve spent the best part of my life banged up, mate, and I’ve seen many men like you. Straight men, gay men, you name it. Murderers, arsonists, blaggers. Even fucking rapists. Once you’re banged up, you’re out of life. Life for you is four walls and the brutality of whoever is bigger and harder than you. The wife or girlfriend, on the other hand, who has committed no other crime than that of loving or marrying you, gets the brunt of your feelings. You channel all your energies into trying to make out they’re also betraying you . . . when the only person who betrayed you was yourself! By getting banged up, you fucked up. It’s as simple as that.’

Georgio listened to Sadie and although a small part of his mind acknowledged the truth of what she was saying, another part dismissed it all.

Wet hair and an overnight bag was heady stuff to a man in prison. Especially when the news was delivered with the maximum of innuendo.

Paddy had given Georgio the bullets, and he was about to fire them.

Nick Carvello looked over the boat and nodded. It was a small motorised fishing vessel that looked well-used and serviceable. In fact it had a powerful engine on board and also a well-stocked bar, a comfortable bed, and a highfrequency radio. It could gather dangerous speeds, but was small enough to lose quickly if necessary. He nodded again to the man cleaning out the interior.

‘I want this fully operational by Sunday latest and then I want it moved away from here and put in the safest boathouse we have. I don’t want anyone remembering it was ever here, OK?’

The young man nodded, his face obscured by the thick knitted hat he was wearing.

Nick looked the boat over again, then, pleased with himself, he dialled Anthony Calder’s number on his mobile phone.