Nula felt her cheeks glow hot in the darkness. Yes, she knew Jill. Her of the silky straight blonde hair and lovely blue eyes and fabulous figure. Fucking Jill Patterson. At that moment, as they racketed along in the tinny noisy little car – nothing cool or sporty for Jimmy, he was boring as fuck, they were all, her entire family, as boring as fuck – with her breath pluming out in the cold night air, Nula came to a momentous decision.

Somehow, she was going to change.

5

Gordie Howard always drank at the Pig’s Head with his crew all around him. Everyone knew that Gordie was tooled up as a matter of routine because of the bayonet thing when he’d pasted Charlie. No one ever mentioned the bayonet thing, not in Charlie’s hearing and certainly not in Terry’s. But Charlie’s boys all knew, and approached the problem accordingly, arming themselves with knives, machetes, spiked knuckledusters and a few leftover service revolvers.

When Charlie was better and his scars healed, he made a plan. He had to take Gordie out, he knew that. And he didn’t want to leave any other members of Gordie’s gang loose about the place to take over where Gordie left off. Charlie made this plain to his boys, and they all nodded their agreement and set off on the evening’s entertainment.

‘I’m going to enjoy this,’ said Charlie as they trooped out into the night, mob-handed.

‘Too right,’ said Terry. ‘Arsehole’s got it coming.’ But he wasn’t sure. He feared Gordie Howard’s crew and thought Charlie a fool not to.

As soon as Gordie and his heavies emerged from the pub, Charlie’s boys dived in. Soon the bodies were piling up on the pavement, but Charlie wasn’t letting anyone else have Gordie Howard but himself. Some of Gordie’s boys ran off when it looked like things were going against them, leaving a hardcore few grouped around Gordie like guards around an emperor. Blood flew and before long there was no one left but Gordie, on the ground, dazed and reeling from tens of punches, cut to ribbons. Then whistles started blowing.

‘Get him up,’ said Charlie, gasping and blood-covered. ‘Let’s go.’

They hefted Gordie into the back of Beezer’s old Ford van and had it away before the coppers could arrive on the scene and start making trouble. They drove him down to the docks and hustled him, barely conscious, into an empty warehouse.

At Charlie’s instruction, Terry slapped Gordie around until he came out of his stupor. Then they tied him to a chair and Charlie stood in front of his enemy in triumph, staring down at him where he sat beaten, all the colour draining out of his face because he knew this was going to be bad.

One of the boys handed Charlie an iron bar.