Mike didn’t have the energy to argue. ‘She’s still his muvver, when all’s said and done, and I don’t know what’s going to happen to Ricky.’ His voice cracked, and he coughed away the emotion trapped in his throat. ‘She should know, anyway.’

‘Yes, Son, of course. Do you have her address?’

‘Yeah, Ricky gave it to me. I was going to see her meself with the divorce papers.’

‘Shall I go now, or shall I wait to see . . . ?’

Mike shook his head. ‘No. Please can you go now?’

Staffie’s eyes filled up. Never had he seen his mate so weak with worry. ‘Arthur, I’ll come with ya.’

***

It was seven o’clock in the morning by the time they reached the site. It was nestled in a quiet place deep in Essex. Arthur was almost asleep at the wheel, and Staffie was sipping a can of Red Bull to keep himself awake.

‘It’s a fucking shit-hole!’ said Arthur, as he looked around. ‘To think our boy grew up in places like this one.’

Staffie had to agree. Most of the caravans seemed clean enough, yet around the perimeter were piles of rubbish, a burned-out car, two old washing machines, and half-dressed toddlers playing in the dirt.

Arthur took a deep breath before he stepped out of the car. No sooner had Staffie joined him than two scruffy-looking men wandered over. ‘Yer got lost, mate?’ called the taller of the two men.

Arthur didn’t answer; he strode towards the caravans.

‘’Ere, I said, ’ave yer got lost?’ the man called out again.

This time Arthur turned to face them. ‘Jackie Menaces. Which one’s her caravan?’

The taller gypsy, with his front teeth missing, eyed Arthur up and down. Right away, he registered the smart clothes, the gold watch, and the confident look on the huge man’s face.

‘Who wants to know?’

Arthur, now extremely tired, sighed. ‘Me! Fucking knobhead.’

‘And who’s me?’

Staffie sensed that Arthur was about to let rip, but this just wasn’t the time or the place. Also, he himself was too exhausted to fight. ‘Her boy’s seriously injured and in hospital. We just came to tell her, that’s all.’

The shorter gypsy sized them up. ‘What’s it worth?’

At first, Staffie didn’t grasp what he meant, until it dawned on him what the man was asking. He curled his lip and frowned. ‘You what?’

‘What yer gonna pay me, to tell you where she lives?’

Arthur stopped dead in his tracks. ‘You fucking what? Ya dirty no-good scummy pikey.’

With that, he lunged forward and grabbed the man around the throat and squeezed hard. ‘Now, where is she?’

The taller gypsy suddenly backed off. ‘All right, mate, we don’t want no trouble. There, in that caravan.’

He pointed to the filthy caravan with a mouldy roof and ingrained dirt along the sides.