Peter and Daniel were sitting in Peter’s pub in Essex. Daniel had never been there and he was impressed; it was a really nice place. Country pubs had always been a favourite of his – he enjoyed the anonymity they afforded him. He enjoyed mixing with the locals, as he put it, and not having to talk to people he knew all the time. It was relaxing.

‘Lovely drum, Pete, you got a good spot here. From what I hear it gets packed of a weekend.’

Peter Bailey grinned wryly. ‘You get your half! You should come here more often, it’s a good place. All the lads pop in – I think it’s the local talent. There’s plenty of strange here on a Saturday night. It’s out of the way enough, you know? The Filth are good as gold too. We have a late drink, a bit of music – in the summer it’s perfect really. During the day you get the families, so it’s a good spot.’

Daniel nodded, laughing at his brother’s obvious amazement at the way the pub had turned out. ‘I assume your Petey picked the bar staff? What was the main criteria? Bra size?’

‘He’s like a fucking fourteen year old on his first ride! That Bernadette ain’t got enough going for her to keep him at home. At the moment the attraction is that she is a so-called good girl, and he could never resist them. He’s a fucking savage really – if he spent as much time on actual work, as he did on the nest . . .’

Daniel felt really happy; this was nice, this was what it had been like before he had fucked up. As the years had passed he had become more adept at curbing his natural inclinations. For example, his instinct last night was to take Terrence Allen outside and shove a broken bottle into his face, and he would only have taken him outside because it was Ria’s house, and he wouldn’t want to make a mess; years ago he would have demolished that fucker in a heartbeat. But that was then, and this was now. He still thought he was right, though; people respected what they couldn’t control, what they couldn’t understand. People were still in awe of his reputation as a man who was not only unpredictable, but who was also devoid of emotion when it came to work-related situations. He meted out punishments which were remembered by everyone concerned. He had been swallowing his knob for many years now, but sometimes it was bloody hard to keep a lid on his emotions.

‘She will quiet him down once she produces a child or two. When she’s the mother of his kids he will finally understand about loyalty to women.’