As a priest, he was not supposed to let anything he heard in the confessional colour his relationship with his flock and, until Daniel Bailey’s bombshell, he had never felt this kind of repugnance for a parishioner in his life. His own brother had once confessed his sin of murder to him, and he had been genuinely sorry for his actions, had understood the enormity of what he had done. He had taken a man’s life in a bar fight – drunk and belligerent, he had beaten a man to death, hit him so hard the man had never even regained consciousness. A terrible tragedy for all concerned, and he was serving a life sentence for it.

But this man came to him regularly, and confessed to all sorts of violent behaviour, sharing his hatred in the privacy of the confessional, and Brendan Murphy knew that he enjoyed telling him. This was East London, and he had heard his fair share of villains’ Confessions over the years. He wasn’t a man who dwelt on people’s situations, he was only there to hear them confess, and assure them that, as long as they were truly sorry, they would be forgiven. Bailey, though, saw it as some kind of game, as a way to demean him, and everything that he believed in, and thereby assert his own authority over him. Daniel Bailey was a bully of the worst kind, because he enjoyed it.

Lena was a regular at early morning Mass; she made sure the boys attended at least once a week, and she met up with Ria Bailey, Peter’s wife, along with Peter himself, and their own children.

Now Peter Bailey, Father Murphy had a lot of time for, which was strange inasmuch as he knew he was just as big a villain as his brother. Peter Bailey was not a man to cross unless you were on a death wish of some sort, but, for all that, he was a different entity entirely from his brother. Whatever Peter Bailey might be, he wasn’t a hypocrite.

Father Murphy knelt before the cross of Christ for fifteen minutes, knowing that Daniel would not dare to interrupt him at prayer, and enjoying the fact that keeping him waiting was making him angry.

Standing slowly, he blessed himself once more and, forcing a smile on his face he turned to Lena and said as brightly as he could, ‘Sure, Lena, I forgot you were coming.’