His wife was crying quietly and he looked at her sadly.

‘I’m sorry, Lou.’

‘Just let them in, Ben, let’s get this over with.’

He nodded and went to the front door. As he opened it Patrick Kelly walked inside. He shut the front door on all the onlookers.

‘Mr Travers? I am really very sorry about this, but the eviction notice has been granted. I know that the bloke who tucked you up will get off with it scot free. By the way, do you have a name for him at all? Maybe I could find him and recoup some of your money?’

Ben Travers nodded.

‘It’s Micky Danby. I trusted the ponce. He was only round last week to collect the month’s rent. He never told us nothing. We signed a year’s lease on this place but it ain’t worth the paper it’s written on. What the fuck we gonna do now?’

Patrick opened his coat and took out his wallet. He pulled out three fifty-pound notes.

‘Take this to tide you over. Get a B & B or something. This is my card. Leave a message with my secretary about where you are and I’ll see about recouping some of your losses. Micky Danby is a prat and I owe him a few scores meself.’

The man took the money. ‘Thanks, Mr Kelly. I’ll pay you back one day.’ His voice was shaky.

‘Give me the baseball bat and we’ll get this over with.’ Patrick inclined his head to the woman watching him. ‘How about a nice cuppa, love, while we get this sorted out?’

The woman nodded, glad of something to do.

Patrick opened the front door and smiled at everyone. ‘Everything’s OK, officers, you can go now.’

‘Fair enough. I’ve radioed in for the Social Services, they’ll find them some alternative accommodation. See you, Mr Kelly.’

The PC got in his car and drove off. Patrick followed Ben Travers into his front room. It was nearly bare except for an old portable TV and a sixties-style PVC settee. He sat on it with the two little girls and gave them a big smile. He’d wait until the Social came, see what the score was. He looked at Ben Travers. He looked a big strong man.

‘Working?’

‘Only on the lump, here and there. The building game’s fucked at the moment. They’re laying down the footings for houses and then just leaving them. It’s a bloody joke.’

Patrick nodded.

‘Ever thought of doing this job?’

Ben Travers frowned. ‘What, being a bailiff you mean?’

‘Yeah, why not? It’s good steady work.’

‘Never thought about it.’

‘Well, see one of my blokes and they’ll tell you what you’ll need. I’d take you on. I’m always after decent blokes with a bit of savvy.’

‘I’ll do that, Mr Kelly, I’ll do that.’

Patrick smiled at the woman as she brought in the tea.

‘Thanks, love.’ He gestured around the room.

‘Not worth four hundred sovs a month this.’