He hadn’t been a beauty before. Now, he frightened little children. Hell, he frightened grown men. C’est la vie.

In a certain area of trade, Bruno quickly became aware that his terrifying looks were a bonus. He started to exploit that market, intimidating punters left, right and centre, and getting a good name as a breaker in the gangs, until he eventually came to the attention of Frank Pargeter and got a full-time job minding Frank’s back and scaring the crap out of anyone who dared cross him.

He was loyal to Frank. Frank looked after him, saw that he was OK for anything he needed, whether that was a roof over his head, recreational drugs, women to use for sex – women who smiled at him and pretended he wasn’t a living breathing horror to look at because they were paid to pretend. He owed Frank a lot. So Bruno Graves didn’t like the idea of anyone taking the piss out of Frank Pargeter, not on his watch.

Dora O’Brien had taken the piss big-style. Bruno didn’t know the finer details, but the gist of it was, she’d cheated on poor old Frank and then she’d run off up north. Made him look a fool, and he couldn’t have that. Also – and this was more serious – she had witnessed what happened at that tart Kim’s party. So far, Bruno had sorted out some others who’d seen that event, including Kim herself. But Dora had made her escape and now it seemed she was going to be difficult to find so that she too could be silenced. In a permanent manner.

Difficult, he thought. But not impossible.

55

Dora’s mum was sitting at the kitchen table clutching a letter and looking unusually bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when Lil came over for elevenses. Lil’s kid Tommy was eight months old now, and Lil set him down on the floor to lie on the rug, which he seemed more than content to do.

Lil was feeling quite happy with her lot at the moment. Alec’s nerves were better now. How long that would last was anyone’s guess, but he had returned to work in the foundry invoicing department. Sick of the two of them being cooped up with the baby in the front room, Lil had started hunting around for a place they could call their own. She had found a dirt-cheap flat in a pretty rotten area, but Lil was pragmatic: beggars could not be choosers.

Granted, they had prossies and crooks living all around them, and the night-times were lively, people screaming and cussing out by the bins, but what could you do? The place was pennies; and they had their independence at last. Lil was having fun furnishing the flat, buying up old bits of Utility stuff, sideboards and tables and suchlike, and Mum had given her cutlery, crockery, all the stuff they needed. Better still, Mum looked after the baby a couple of mornings a week, and this was why Lil was here today, to drop off the little boy at his granny’s.