‘Too right.’ Peter picked up his pint and sipped it once more. This was the first time in ages he had felt so relaxed. Since the trouble with his brother, he had been on edge, knowing that his silence over the debacle had not been appreciated. He was aware that people felt he should have chastised Daniel to show that he did not condone his brother’s actions. But, as much as he had wanted to, he just couldn’t do it to him. There were too many people waiting their chance to settle old scores with Daniel; if he turned his back on his little brother publicly, it would be like finally admitting to everyone that he was finished with him for ever.

His nephews were growing up into decent men, good earners and, more important than anything else, they were loyal right down to the bone. They worked hard, and they were up against it with their father’s natural lunacy fucking it up for them!

Peter pushed the thoughts out of his head; he was sick of still having his brother invading his life. He was out with his family, he wanted to enjoy the day.

He watched as Imelda came out of the pub with a tray of drinks. She was a good girl and, as much as it had pained him to admit it, Delroy had been a good husband to her. Oh, Peter knew he took a flyer occasionally, but then that wasn’t a big deal. It was when a man had a regular bird that the trouble started. No, all in all, he was pleased with Delroy, he had proved his loyalty, and come up trumps with the idea to buy the clubs. And now he was a Face in his own right, so he had nothing to prove.

Delroy got up and helped Imelda with the tray of drinks and, as Ria walked back to the table holding her grandson’s hand, Peter realised what a lucky man he was. He had so much – it was time to start enjoying it properly. His boys were old enough to take over the lion’s share of the business, and that would give him and Ria the opportunity to spend some time together before they were too old to really enjoy themselves.

‘Uncle Peter?’

‘Hello, lads.’