Dolly took the crying woman into her arms. ‘Come on now, Donna. Pull yourself together, love. I’ll make us another cuppa, eh?’

She walked Donna back to her chair and sat her down. Then, taking away the plate of poached egg, she placed it in the sink and poured Donna a fresh cup of tea. All the time her mind was racing. Someone was out to get Georgio - Donald Lewis to be exact. His name had never come up before, either during the trial or afterwards . . . so why the big deal now?

She would tell Stephen as soon as she could.

Dolly knew Lewis well. Not personally, but in the same way everyone knew the name of Donald Lewis. He was a big-time villain. He ran the East End of London and the West, in between running both North and South London. Lewis was bad news. And Lewis was after their Georgio . . .

A sudden heaviness settled on Dolly’s heart.

Georgio was in big trouble.

Paddy Donovon was in the Portakabin with his friends, drinking tea. It was five minutes to ten and the tea-break was early. Men sat around on the benches reading the Sun, the Sport or in extreme cases the Independent. Paddy himself was listening to little Milton Hardcastle’s version of a fight the previous Friday night in The Dean Swift public house.

‘Jaysus, Paddy, the man was huge, with arms like a side of beef! I saw the first one coming at me, and I blocked it.’ He held up his arm to demonstrate. ‘Then I shoved me boot in his groin. As God is me witness, I nearly put his balls up on to the back of his neck!’

Paddy grinned at the blatant lying. ‘Did you now? And who was this Hercules you were fighting with? Did he have a name at all?’ Paddy winked at Del Boy Bryant as he spoke and the Cockney choked on his tea.

Milton shook his head sadly. ‘No, I never got to find out who he was. The police were there before the ambulance and I didn’t stick around to find out anything.’

Paddy made a deep obeisance of his head. ‘Ah, sure, you did the right thing there, Milton. The buggers would have crucified you if they’d caught up with you.’

‘They would that, Paddy, and no mistaking.’