Daniel knew that for his mother to say what she had just said she must be genuinely trying to help him. She had always had his back, both her sons’ backs. He also knew she was right – he was devoid of this so-called moral compass, even if, in all honesty, he felt that was a contradiction in terms. But he knew she was right – there was a morality in the Life, and he had never really understood that fact. He did now though – he knew he had to learn just what the boundaries and guidelines were. His sons were more than aware of how they should all conduct themselves, so he had them to use as a yardstick. Despite all this, his mother’s words hurt, even though he knew she had the best intentions.

He smiled. ‘I’ll see you later then, Mum. The Shandon Bells, eh? I bet Father Murphy will be there. He does like a drink, the old ponce.’

Theresa grinned at her son, but she was aware that he had listened to her advice; whether or not he would choose to use it was anybody’s guess. ‘Don’t we all, son! Eventually, when you get to my age, the drink is all you’ve got to look forward to.’

Daniel Bailey looked at his mother and, sighing sadly, he said gently, ‘You’re a good ’un, Mum, and I love you very much.’

Chapter Fifty-Two

‘Well, are you going to show me or what?’ Jack Bailey was laughing as he spoke, and his cousins Noel and Jamsie, who were with him, laughed too.

George Theodopolis, however, wasn’t laughing; he knew he was in serious trouble. ‘Come on back to my office, boys, I’ve got your envelope waiting.’

Jack Bailey shook his head angrily, and replied in a sarcastic yet humorous tone, ‘Bollocks to you, George! This is the third week we have requested our due. Now, me and my cousins have had to come in person, take time out of our busy lives to collect from you. I ask you, is that fair on us? I mean, in reality, who the fuck are you? You’re a cunt who believed we would overlook the insult.’ He looked around him with wide eyes, the eternal innocent. Then, grinning nastily, he said viciously, ‘So, I ask you again, cunt, show us your club. If you don’t, we will take it down around your fucking ears. Brick by brick, punch by punch.’

George knew what was going to happen now. It was his own fault, but he’d had to try; after all, no one paid out without a good reason. Now he was backed into a corner – once they saw his premises he would have to pay more than his usual wage; unfortunately, this was the way of the world he lived in.