‘Huh!’ Paddy’s exclamation was like a gunshot in the small Portakabin. ‘If I know you, Hancock, you already had the buyer when you made the order. It’s the old story. When the cat’s away . . . Especially as this cat is away for a long stretch. Well, you listen to me, and you listen good, boy. I’m personally employed by this young lady to look out for her businesses and I intend to do just that. You get word around the sites that all the paperwork had better be in good shape or I’ll rip the head off the first bastard to try and do her down. Georgio gave us all jobs, even when we’d been in stir, and now you try and have her over. Well, the buck stops here and now. As for the plasterers . . . paying them up front! I’ve heard fairy stories in the Old Country with more credence than that one! But as the money’s been paid then they have to do the work, no matter whose pocket it comes out of. And believe me when I say I want that plastering to shine like glass, the job’s that good. So you’d better bring a good firm in. Now get out of me sight before I brain ye!’

Mark Hancock left the Portakabin as fast as his dignity would allow.

‘Thanks, Paddy. I don’t know what I’d do without you,’ Donna told him.

He grinned, showing surprisingly white teeth.

‘Listen, me little pickaheen, by the time I’ve finished educating you, you’d be able to run fecking Wimpey’s!’

Donna grinned back, but she wished desperately that she had as much faith in herself as Big Paddy did. Just talking to the likes of Mark Hancock terrified her, more so in case she forgot what Paddy had told her to say. But as the big fella had pointed out, if she wanted the men’s respect, the only way she would get it was to do the talking herself. He would back her up afterwards, but the men had to think she had a working knowledge of the sites.

Well, if she kept this up, that’s exactly what she would have. Whether she wanted it or not!

Georgio listened, his whole body alert and tense. In the darkness, he could hear the irregular breathing of Timmy Lambert. He knew Timmy was awake. Georgio forced his breath to come out in regular small snores. His eyes were wide open as he tried to refine his night vision. Finally, after what seemed an age, he felt Timmy move in the bunk above him, then as he clenched his fists, was amazed to see a match flare as Timmy lit himself a roll-up.

‘You awake, Georgio?’

‘Well, I am now, Timmy.’

‘I think we should have a little chat.’

‘What about?’ Georgio’s voice was low now; he was on his guard.