Peter and Daniel had been good boys, they had never brought the police to her door, or been involved in anything that might cause her trouble. They had been too shrewd to get involved in the futile petty crime that abounded on the estate where they lived. Instead, they had observed, studied and made sure they never went into anything before they had sussed it out. They would no more shame her than they would shame themselves. Although both of them had ducked and dived to put money on the table, neither of them had ever been caught.

But he guessed, rightly, that their mother knew far more than she let on about her boys and their lifestyles. She had always said, if you are going to nick, nick big time, and never nick off your own. She accepted what they did, as she had always accepted them.

Chapter Twelve

‘You all right, Mum?’ Davey Bailey was worried and it showed. His mother looked awful, she was white-faced and without her usual energy.

‘I’m pregnant, son, it does tend to take it out of you!’

She was smiling at him, but he wasn’t convinced. ‘Is Dad back yet?’

She shook her head. ‘No, he’ll be back later today, and don’t you tell him that I’m feeling rough. He’s got a lot on his mind.’

Davey nodded, but he was angry at his dad. He should be here, but he was always out ‘on a job’ these days. He took a deep breath. ‘Come on, Mum, sit down. I’ll make you a cup of tea. I wish I had known how you were feeling.’

Lena sat back down and smiled quietly to herself. Not one of her sons had given her condition a second’s thought, and why would they? They were only boys themselves – none of them understood pregnancy and what it entailed. She had not wanted to burden them with it, but if she was honest she didn’t feel good. It was all the worry. She knew her husband was doing some important business with his brother and that always made her nervous.

As he placed a cup of tea before her, Davey berated his dad silently once more. And where was his fucking nana? Normally she was never off the bloody doorstep.

‘The baby’s kicking, Davey. Feel.’ Lena took her son’s hand and laid it on her swollen belly. She saw the surprise on his face as he felt the strength of the child within her.

‘Must be another boy there, Mum! A footballer, do you reckon?’

She smiled. ‘You were the real kicker in the family, Davey. You kept me up night after night.’