Imelda could not believe what she was hearing. This was her brother, her little Jack, not some fucking romancer no one gave a toss about, and she said as much, but Delroy held up his hand.

‘That’s enough, Mel.’

He caught sight of his son in the kitchen doorway; he was obviously frightened. Delroy plastered a smile on his face, well aware that the child was picking up on the negativity between his parents; kids were good at that. ‘You all right, mate?’ He lifted his son into his arms and took him back to his bed. Ten minutes later he was back in their newly refurbished kitchen.

Imelda looked her husband in the eye and said quietly, ‘What if it was him, eh? What would you do, Delroy?’ She was genuinely interested in his answer. Delroy knew that she was asking him to tell her what she wanted to hear, but he couldn’t; she had to grasp the seriousness of their life together. Imelda had to understand that this was not a life that you could dip in and out of, once you were in it, you were in it for the duration.

He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘The same as your father, Mel. And a bit of friendly advice – don’t ask questions you don’t really want the answer to.’

Chapter Eighty

Jack Bailey was jonesing in the back of the car and he was jonesing badly. He was sweating, withdrawing and, compounded with his fear, it was worse than he could ever have imagined. He’d never been denied access to his preferred drug before. He needed something to calm him down, but he knew his brothers were not going to provide anything.

‘Will Dad be long do you think?’ In his mind he thought he would get a good hiding, but once that was over he hoped he might have time to go out and score. Or he could easily call a dealer who might come to him if he was incapacitated. All Jack wanted was all this over with.

Jack was completely unaware of just how much trouble he was in – believing his place as the baby of the family would ensure his father’s lenience. He had gone to his nana because she was the only person his father really listened to. His big fear had been his Uncle Daniel – he wouldn’t put it past him to shoot him and then go and have his dinner as if nothing untoward had occurred. His Uncle Daniel had a reputation for his hard-nosed attitude to other people’s problems.

His brothers were subdued, but that was to be expected; he had, after all, fucked up big time. Jack was convinced, though, that his mother’s love would provide protection – his dad would never hurt her, would never harm her baby boy. His dad loved him – they’d find a way to sort this out to everyone’s satisfaction.