Unlike Eddie, Jimmy O’Hara was no oil painting. He was six feet two, had dark, greying, wavy hair, thick lips, a beer belly and a big bulbous nose that splattered over to one side of his face. Jimmy opened the stable door, let Eddie inside and turned to him with a look of hatred.

‘So, what do you want?’

Eddie was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his cool. Jed had attacked him and had ripped his Armani shirt, he hadn’t been able to speak to his own grandchildren and now he had this big, ugly prick looking at him as if he were some kind of faeces he’d trod on. Taking the advice of his probation officer, who had told him to take ten deep breaths whenever he felt as if he was about to lose his rag, Eddie spoke in the most sympathetic voice he could muster.

‘I came here to apologise for the deaths of your son and your grandson.’

Jimmy gave a sarcastic chuckle. ‘Well, that’s fucking big of ya. We’ll forget all about it and be best buddies then, shall we?’

‘Just drop the sarcasm and hear me out will you, Jimmy? It weren’t fucking easy for me to come round ’ere today, so the least you can do is listen to what I’ve got to say. If you don’t, then I’ll walk away now and we all know what will happen next, don’t we? You’ll shoot a couple of my family and then I’ll shoot a couple of yours. And so it goes on Jimmy, like it always bastard well has done, until we’re all laying six feet under.’

‘Go on then, talk, I’m all ears,’ Jimmy spat.

‘I’ve come here today not only to apologise, but also to offer you a deal. You know as well as I do that I had sod-all to do with what happened. I’ve had sweet fuck-all to do with my brothers for years – they might be my flesh and blood, but they’re mugs, the pair of ’em. I ain’t stupid; I know you’re gonna want revenge and so would I if I’d gone through the same as you had. So I’m gonna give you permission to go ahead, do what you’ve gotta do with Paulie and Ronny and when you do, I promise they’ll be no repercussions from me or my family.’

‘I think you’ve forgotten something, Mitchell. Your cunting brothers happen to be in Belmarsh with a lot of your old pals and I know for a fact that you’ll say one thing to me, then have their backs watched for ever more. Don’t insult me, by treating me like some dinlo, please.’

‘I promise you, Jimmy, I won’t get involved. My brothers fucked up big time and now they have to pay the price. I’ll keep out of it, I swear I will.’

Jimmy was thinking of the bigger picture. He would never truly rest until all of the Mitchells were dead, especially Eddie, but if he agreed to this deal now, it would give him plenty of time to plan the rest of their executions properly. Neither Eddie nor his sons were any man’s fools, and Jimmy wanted that fucking Raymond dead as well. Doing life in prison didn’t appeal to Jimmy one little bit and if Alice ever lost her beloved Georgie girl over his rash actions, she would never forgive him, and would probably leave him for good.