He missed Renée, missed her every day of his life. They had worked together to build up their businesses, she was the real brains behind the repo business, not him. He had always been the muscle, the hard man. He had collected outstanding debts from villains, men who had done a robbery and then tried to ‘tuck up’ the other men with them.

Kelly had a knack of finding people, of making people tell him their whereabouts - he still had it to this day, despite his large house, his hand-made suits and his aura of semi-respectability. Deep down in his boots he knew that he was still an East End urchin, still got a thrill from his illegal dealings. Even though these days he mixed with the highest in the land for one reason or another, he knew that inside, he would always be Patrick Kelly from the East End. The years of living in coldwater bedsits, rat-infested tenements and watching his mother work herself into the ground would never be far from his thoughts, and as far as he was concerned, that was how it should be. He was honest enough to admit to himself that it was his dead wife’s business acumen that he could thank for his respectable way of life these days. It had been Renée who had somehow managed to get them their first respectable client. Without her, he would still be pretty well off, but the chances were he’d have been sent down by a judge years before. He had learnt from her, and now he missed her. He had respected her, loved her and built a life with her for their only child.

Suddenly, Tiffany annoyed him more than ever. He did not want her sitting there, with her tight dress and professionally tanned legs, he wanted Renée. With her blond hair swept up as it had always been and her tiny frame encased in a nice black dress that screamed of class, to him anyway. She had dressed quietly, had a quiet demeanor that he had loved. He looked at the tree again and felt the sting of tears. Christmas was always an emotional time. It was a time to think of absent loved ones, a bitter-sweet remembering. Ten years he had mourned her, taking on the responsibility for his daughter, a daughter who had all her mother’s zest for life, even if she had taken up with that geek of a boyfriend. He looked like he was a bit Stoke on Trent, but Mandy had assured him he was straight as a die. Patrick still had his doubts.