Eddie smirked and shook his head in amused disbelief. He knew exactly what type of children he’d be bringing home with him, but nobody else seemed to have a clue.

‘I don’t care if we have to drive the whole journey with canvas sacks over the kids’ heads, as long as we get them home. They ain’t gonna be normal children, you know. How can they be when they’ve been dragged up by them scumbag cunts? They’ll be loud, wild and probably fucking violent. You won’t recognise their nature, and neither will I. They’ll be out-and-out gypsy kids. Getting ’em home is the easy part; getting them to adjust to living a normal life will be far more difficult. You mark my words on that one.’

Chapter Thirty-Five

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Forty-eight hours later, Eddie and the boys set off for bonny Scotland. Stuart drove the blue van, accompanied by Terry Baldwin and Raymond. Ed drove the white one and was joined by Gary and Ricky.

‘So did you book us somewhere to stay in the end?’ Ricky asked his father.

‘Yeah, I booked us three rooms in a B&B in the town centre. I rang up a few and this one was a bit dearer than the others, so it should be OK. It’s only five minutes from the boozer that Jimmy supposedly drinks in.’

‘Why don’t we ring up the pub later and ask if Jimmy’s in there? Or do you think that’s a bit dodgy?’ Gary asked.

‘It’s way too dodgy, and for all we know he might be using a different surname now. Jimmy’s a slippery cunt and the last thing we wanna do is alert him that someone’s looking for him. If he does another runner, we’re fucked.’

‘Have you let Larry know what’s going on?’ Ricky asked.

‘Yep. Providing things go to plan, I’ll bell him as soon as we’ve got the kids and are on the way home. He’s gonna get Carol Cullen involved again, and he’ll notify the Old Bill. I got that Blyth bird’s number off Frankie, so he can ring her directly.’

‘Just think, this time in twenty-four hours, Frankie might be reunited with her kids,’ Gary said in an upbeat manner.

‘Let’s hope so, boy, but let’s not build our hopes up too much, ’cause nothing’s ever fucking straightforward when it involves Jed and Jimmy O’Hara.’

* * *

Frankie put the quilt over her head to shut out the light that was peeping through the gap in the curtains. She’d had an awful night’s sleep, and every time she dozed off she’d dreamed about her kids returning home, which had then woken her up again.

‘You awake, sweet child?’ Babs asked, opening the bedroom door with a tray in her hand.

‘You ain’t cooked me breakfast, have you?’ Frankie asked, sitting up.