But having had bitter experience with the Stone men, Jill was doubtful. Milly sometimes asked for Belle to come over to the main house for sleepovers, but Jill would never allow that. Truth was, she felt that the house where Nula and Charlie lived was cursed, tainted by the awful memory of baby Jake’s death and then by Nula’s depressive illness. And maybe a curse was all they, all any of them, deserved. Oh, Belle and Milly still knew nothing about the business. Nor would they ever. Everyone was agreed on that. But Harlan was of an age now where Charlie would want to include him, to train him up to one day take over both the legitimate business and the illegal one. It was a sick, evil trade. They dealt in death. They imported it, made it at the crack factories all around the East End, then they supplied it, sold it to deadbeats on the streets who sold it on again, to kids, to drifters, to bored businessmen and aristos, to people who could one day find themselves hooked and with no chance of ever getting free from the hell Charlie and his crew had introduced them to.

Sometimes Jill wept, full of disgust and fear over the path they’d all come down. How had they come so far from the life where they had grown up hopeful, feeling that the future was full of promise? Jill didn’t feel that way any more. She hadn’t felt like that ever since that time Charlie Stone had decided it was his right to rape her. She lived her life in constant fear for all of her family, and these days, whenever Charlie showed up, she made sure she kept out of his way. Because it was him, wasn’t it. That loud repulsive bastard. He had led them all into this life. Like the devil tempting Jesus he had said, Look, all this could be yours . . . just do this.

And Terry had done it; everything and anything Charlie asked, Terry did. Terry was – even now – Charlie’s man, one hundred per cent. That male bond was strong, far stronger even than the one Terry had with his own wife. Jill and Nula had followed on behind their menfolk, not questioning anything. Seduced by living the high life. Living it large. They’d never, ever asked any questions. But bad things had happened. Horrible things. And she just knew there was worse to come.

A yell went up, startling Jill from her thoughts. Harlan was standing by the deep end of the pool and Nipper was thrashing about in the water. Milly looked up from her sunbed, gave a smirk and then returned to her book. Jill hurried over.

‘He fell in,’ said Harlan with a shrug.

‘He bloody didn’t,’ said Belle, running up in her tiny pink bikini.