Michael O’Toole was feeling very awkward; he didn’t like ostentation, and he knew that he looked as out of place as he felt. The Baileys had been fantastic, there was no doubt about that. The problem was wholly his, and he would have to overcome it sooner rather than later. His daughter had bagged herself a real prize, and that was her prerogative. Hers and her mother’s, of course – like a pair of fucking witches the two of them. For all Bernadette’s good-girl act, he knew she was just hanging it all out for the main attraction – Peter Bailey the younger. Michael only hoped she realised just what she had taken on; the man wasn’t a fool, not by anyone’s standards, and she might just find she had bitten off more than she could chew.

The worst thing for Michael was that he felt like a ponce; he was the father of the bride-to-be and, by rights, this night should have been organised by him and his old woman. If that had been the case, there was no way it would have been anything remotely as upmarket as this. And that was the rub – his own daughter had more or less told him that there was no way she was going to celebrate her engagement on his penny; she had almost laughed in his face when he had suggested it.

Pity she didn’t understand the Baileys; they would have respected whatever he had provided – they were decent like that. But his Bernadette was more than happy for her new family to foot the bill, and they had done that all right. Smoked salmon! He had to laugh – they had been lucky to have tinned fucking salmon at the best of times. He had provided as well as he could, and his wife and daughter should give him credit for that. They might not have lived in a mansion, but they never went without. Now those two talked about food as if they were suddenly related to the fucking Galloping Gourmet. They disgusted him, the pair of them. Especially his Beryl – all the years they had been married and she still couldn’t cook a decent meal, no matter how good or expensive the ingredients might be. Now she talked as if she cooked banquets on a daily basis. The only good thing about prison had been that the food inside was much better than anything he had ever eaten at home!