‘You’re letting him get out of here? Seriously?’ One of the crew voiced what they were all thinking, incredulous.

‘’Course I’m letting him out! This ponce is the reason his uncle is going to come after us.’ He pointed to the man on the floor. ‘This is the reason his uncle is going to get his fucking ugly big head caved in, the treacherous bastard that he is too.’ Daniel walked back to where his brother was sitting. ‘Like fucking nuns these days – a bit of pain and they faint like virgins on a stag night.’

Peter Bailey laughed. ‘He’s not the first person to call me a coon, and you know it.’

Daniel shrugged. ‘It always bothered me more than it did you, Peter, even when we was kids. But if he insults you he insults me and, more to the point, he insults our mother. But you’re right – this time it’s just another excuse for having a go. Fucking wanker. Thinks he can short-change us? I don’t fucking think so.’

Peter nodded. ‘A fucking liberty all right.’

‘Well, bruv, we’ve worked long and hard for this, and tonight we’ll take it. Be like the fucking black and white minstrels just took over East London. After all, that’s what they are calling us, according to that ponce anyway.’

Peter smiled, showing his expensive white teeth. ‘I always liked them myself. Remember when we were kids and we used to tap dance on the lino copying them? After tonight we will tap dance all over the Smoke.’

‘Fucking right we will, Peter, we’ve fucking earned it.’

‘Well, after this little lot, we’d better be prepared because this is not going to go down too well.’

Daniel laughed. ‘I should hope not, or this was all in vain! Fuck them! Me and you, bruv, are on the up.’

A groan from the floor interrupted their conversation, as Micky came round. Daniel knew he was in terrible pain and bewildered as to why this had happened to him, but he said delightedly and in an exaggerated pseudo-posh voice, ‘Oh, Peter, I do believe our guest is finally back with us. Where’s my fucking manners?’

He walked slowly back to where Micky was being held upright on his knees by his men and, looking into the young man’s eyes, he said jovially, ‘I hope you’ve got a good dentist, son, you’re going to fucking need one,’ before taking out the boy’s jaw, and the majority of his teeth, with one swipe of the hammer. Then, throwing the hammer on to a nearby bench, he said offhandedly, ‘Drop him off at his uncle’s pub, right outside the public bar. We don’t want people thinking that we don’t look after our guests, do we?’

Chapter Two