‘Let’s be honest about this, Donald,’ he said firmly. ‘You topped Timmy because you needed to make sure the men didn’t forget you or what you’re capable of. I’m not disputing you took a blow, I know you did, but at the end of the day you wound Timmy up. You made him go for you. For the first time ever, someone tried to get back at you - and so you lost a kidney over a transvestite whore who couldn’t even pass these days for a rent boy. Why did you want him, Lewis? Why did you take Sadie away from Timmy? What was in it for you?’

Lewis grinned again, wider this time.

‘I took Sadie because I felt like it. Who was that bloke who said he climbed Everest because it was there? Well, that’s why I took Sadie from Timmy.’

Georgio sighed heavily. ‘You’re not all the ticket, do you know that?’

Lewis laughed again. ‘I am well aware of that fact, Georgio. It’s what gives me the edge. Another man who’d been through what I’ve just been through would still be being spoonfed slops in a hospital bed. Life is all about living, and living is all about being the best, being on top, and in this place that means being the hardest bastard around.

‘Now, back to the two nonces. What have they had to say for themselves?’

Georgio shrugged again.

‘Like I said before, not a lot. But if they’re going to be slaughtered, can I have the job?’

Eric drove the route for the jump with Alan. From Portsmouth they followed the M275 to Cobham and from there the A27 towards Drayton. At Drayton they picked up the A3 until they came to Horndean and drove for nearly an hour, chatting companionably until they arrived at the place Eric had picked out for the jump. It was a quiet patch of road bordered by countryside and parallel to a dirt road. It was also spectacularly beautiful. It was known as the Devil’s Punch Bowl.

Eric pulled over into a layby and smiled at Alan.

‘What do you think?’ he asked in his well-modulated tones.

Alan stepped out of the car and stood looking around him at the cars speeding past and the countryside.

‘It’s perfect.’

‘Better still, Al,’ Eric grinned as he joined him, ‘there’s a farm road a little way down, that takes us on to a quiet country lane. It couldn’t be better, could it?’

Alan shook his head slowly. ‘It’s ideal. Fuck me, it’s brilliant! And you’re sure this is the route that the sweatbox will take?’