‘All right, Mr Murphy? What you up to, mate?’ Ed asked grinning. He put his forefinger to his lips to warn the others to keep schtum. Within seconds, Ed’s grin had disappeared and his healthy-looking complexion had turned a deathly shade of white. ‘You what? They can’t have. Are you fucking sure?’

Gary and Ricky glanced anxiously at each other. Whatever news Pat Murphy had was obviously not good. Stuart ran up to the bar to tell Raymond. ‘Pat Murphy’s on the phone to Ed. Something’s gone wrong, I think,’ he whispered, grabbing two of the drinks.

Gary, Ricky, Stuart and Raymond all stared at Eddie as he continued and then ended the conversation. ‘Whatever’s wrong?’ Gary asked his father.

Overcome by shock, Eddie felt physically sick as he gulped back his Scotch in one. He slammed the glass on the table. ‘The O’Haras have gone. They’ve done a runner and they’ve taken Georgie and Harry with ’em.’

‘What about Jed? Did Murphy say he was dead?’ Ricky asked.

‘He didn’t say. All the Old Bill would tell him was there’d been an incident, the family had disappeared and he said the police seemed to be swarming around the horse-box like flies. They wouldn’t let him inside the gates, obviously.’

Eddie put his head in his hands. He looked up seconds later, his eyes brimming with tears. ‘How the fuck am I gonna tell Frankie?’

Chapter Twenty-Nine

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Unaware that her children had all but disappeared off the face of the earth, Frankie had spent the night dreaming about them. They’d all been at the zoo together and Georgie and Harry’s presence had been so real that when Frankie was awoken by a piercing scream, she thought one of the children had fallen over and hurt themselves. Sitting bolt upright, Frankie immediately realised that it was Babs in pain.

‘What’s a matter? Is the baby on its way?’ Frankie asked, dashing over to her bedside.

‘I don’t know, it don’t feel like contractions,’ Babs mumbled fearfully.

When she let out another tortured cry, Frankie immediately ran to the cell door and pummelled her fists against it. ‘Help! Quick, we need help!’ she shouted at the top of her voice.

Seconds later, two screws ran in and, seeing Babs, face covered in sweat and contorted with pain, they immediately called for medical assistance.

‘I think my baby’s dying. It’s in trouble, I just know it is,’ Babs sobbed.

Frankie mopped her friend’s forehead with a wet flannel. ‘Sssh, your baby is gonna be just fine, Babs, I know it is.’

When the prison doctor finally appeared, Babs was swiftly whisked away and Frankie begged to be allowed to go to the hospital with her.

‘No, Mitchell, you know the rules,’ one of the newer screws barked, slamming the cell door in Frankie’s face.