Remembering Colin Griffiths’ two dismembered fingers, Eddie prodded two sausages with a fork and put them on his plate. They’d got the money back from Griffiths the following week, so the episode was over now.

‘Yes, son. Stuart has been working for me for a couple of weeks now and has already proved his worth. The boy’s gonna be a real asset to me,’ Eddie said, smiling at Stuart as he walked back into the room.

Gina and Claire sat down at the table and everybody began tucking into their dinners. Joey and Dom moved over to the sofa, as they had already eaten at Joycie’s.

‘Who the fucking hell is that?’ Eddie said, as the doorbell rang.

Joey jumped up. ‘You eat your dinner. I’ll get it. It’s probably Gary and Ricky.’

Seconds later, a worried-looking Joey walked back into the lounge. ‘It’s the police, Dad. They want to speak to you. They said it’s urgent.’

Thinking this was probably to do with Beverley’s death, Eddie put his knife and fork down and walked into the hallway.

‘What’s a matter?’ he asked the taller copper out of the two.

‘Are you Eddie Mitchell, the brother of Paul and Ronald Mitchell?’ the policeman asked, knowing full well who Eddie was.

Eddie’s heart lurched. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, Mr Mitchell. There was an incident in Belmarsh this morning and both your brothers have unfortunately been found dead.’

Feeling the colour drain from his cheeks, Eddie clung to the banister for support. O’Hara must have got to them somehow, the fucking bastard. ‘How did it happen? I need to know how they died,’ he said, praying they hadn’t been tortured.

The smaller of the two coppers glanced at his colleague and continued. ‘The details we have been given are rather vague, but it seems they were found early this morning by a prison officer and both men had lacerations to the throat area.’

Eddie put his head in his trembling hands. He might not have seen eye to eye with his brothers over recent years, but they were still his flesh and blood and, in his heart, he had never stopped loving them. Now they were dead, some cunt had cut their throats and, the worst part of it was, by giving Jimmy O’Hara that money, Ed had effectively killed them himself. Overcome by guilt and grief, Eddie ordered the officers out and sank to his knees. Not only did he still bear the burden of having his wife’s blood all over his hands, he now had his brothers’ as well.