Davey stood before him, running his enormous hands through his thick hair, and Danny saw how big he was, how powerful he had become; they were both the image of their father. They all had the Irish blue eyes, inherited from their grandmother, and passed down from generations long gone.

Danny also knew that it was getting more difficult to control his brothers; they were men now, and they had their own thoughts and opinions, which they were entitled to express. Sooner rather than later their father was going to have to accept that as a fact of life. Danny had a modicum of control over his father. Daniel had known for a long time that his eldest son was not in any way amenable to him, or his bullying.

Even before Alfie Clarke, Danny had been appalled by what his father had done to Lenny Jones. He was a fucking saint, and Danny had taken to visiting him at least once a week. Lenny could talk now, but he would never walk again. Even after all this time, Danny hated to see the man so broken, hated that his father had done it.

Lenny told him stories of the old days that were as thrilling as they were outrageous, he brought the East End alive, the old East End before the slum clearance and the tower blocks. And Danny had got an education from him as well, learning how the scams worked, how you weighed up situations, how you worked out the odds. He had never really thought about situations as a mathematical problem before, but Lenny had explained it to him in language he understood.

Lenny didn’t know he was Daniel’s son, at least he didn’t think he did. Lenny had lots of visitors, and Danny wondered if any of them had said who he was. He didn’t think so, because Lenny was always nice to him; he liked Lenny a lot. He was a good bloke.

Young as he had been at the time, Danny had only visited at first to see who had been the cause of all the grief, and he had found himself going back again and again. Now, though, he went because he wanted to, not because of any ulterior motives.

His Uncle Peter had found out about his visits. He had got him on his own and asked him how Lenny was faring; he had told him he was a good lad to go in and visit him. Said he thought he was growing up to be a good man, and he was keeping his eye on him. Danny liked that, had liked hearing it, even though he felt a twinge of disloyalty to his dad.