‘Hello. We’re all operational here and ready to go whenever you want the jump. I’m ready as well, OK?’

He placed the mobile in the pocket. Turning once more to the younger man he said conversationally, ‘Could you stock up with some decent food, tinned stuff of course, and also a good bottle of claret. Oh, and a litre bottle of Glenmorangie; my client favours that whisky. Then I want you to do another favour. I want you to find Little Dicky for me, and tell him I need to have a word - it’s urgent. Do you think you could remember all that?’

The youth faced him and smiled. ‘I can.’

Nick squirmed in imitation of a bimbo. ‘So manly, so strong. Give us a kiss!’

The youth stood up straight and grinned. ‘You’d get a big shock if I said yes, Nick.’

Nick’s face dropped for a second in mock sadness. Then in his own voice he said, ‘You bet your life I would. But not half as big a shock as your old woman when I told her.’

They both laughed in easy camaraderie.

Jonnie H. listened intently to what was being said to him. He deliberately didn’t look towards his wife; he would soon garner her thoughts. Annie was never backward in coming forward. Once people realised that she was the real negotiator they were first shocked and then pleasantly surprised at her acumen.

Danny McAnulty was a small stocky man with a thick Glaswegian accent. His brother Cyril, a name that had made his mother proud and himself violent, sat quietly as he negotiated on their behalf. A third brother, Iain, would abide by whatever they decided for him. Danny knew that this jump would be lucrative and also quick - the kind of work he enjoyed. They would be down south overnight and back in bed before the Old Bill started pulling files. It was perfect work. But he knew that Jonnie H., although a fair man and well-respected all over the UK, was also a shrewdie - or, more to the point, his old woman was.

‘We think we need at least seven grand each for the day’s work. We’re putting ourselves on the line—’

Annie interrupted. ‘It’ll be two hours’ work. All you have to do is to be waiting at the chop. Nothing else. You will not be involved in the jump itself. I’m offering you five grand each and that’s that.’

Danny shook his head and Cyril followed suit as they all knew he would.

‘With respect, Mrs H., we will be the most important people there. It will be us who takes the jumper to his final destination . . .’

Annie interrupted again. ‘No, you won’t. You will drive him only a few miles, then you will be out of the ballgame. Five grand each and that’s it.’

Danny looked at the heavily pregnant woman and sighed. ‘Eight.’