When Frankie tried to physically comfort him, he angrily pushed her away. ‘Get off me, you fucking shitcunt. This is all your fault – I hate you,’ he screamed.

‘Harry, I’m your mum, don’t you understand that?’ Frankie asked tearfully.

‘Leave my brother alone. You tried to kill our dad. We both hate you,’ Georgie yelled protectively.

Frankie stared at the two children she no longer knew or recognised. Memories of their childhood came flooding back. Their births, their first steps, Georgie’s favourite doll, her first day at school. She could even picture Harry toddling around with his beloved teddy bear under his arm. How he’d cried when he thought she’d lost it that time, when she’d planned to put it in Jed’s motor with the tape recorder hidden inside. For years, Frankie had dreamed and planned this reconciliation, but it was never meant to turn out like this. She wasn’t stupid. She’d hardly expected the children to gallop into her arms and then they all live happily ever after, but she’d thought they might have missed her, or would at least be pleased to see her again. Instead, they’d been reared to hate her. They’d been brainwashed by their father, Alice and Jimmy and how she was meant to change their perception of her, she really did not know.

Unaware that his kids were no longer in the back of the Sprinter van, Jed was full of beans as he and Billy drove through Elm Park. He was no longer angry with his brother for forgetting the bullets, he was too excited about what was about to happen to be bothered about that now.

‘Ring Dad and pass me the phone,’ he ordered Billy.

‘All right, boy. I was just saying to Mickey, I think Mitchell could be heading to his salvage yard. I bet the prick keeps his guns there, unless they’ve already got shooters on ’em, or Frankie’s living over that way.’

‘Do you reckon they know we’re following ’em? Me and Bill don’t.’

‘I should imagine so. Mitchell might be a lot of things, but he’s no dinlo, boy. What I suggest we do is catch right up with him now. He’s bound to stop somewhere soon and when he does, we’ll be ready. We don’t want the chavvies involved, so we get them out the back and get Billy to drive ’em straight back to Glasgow. I’ve rang your mum and she’s OK now, she just wants us all home safe and sound. We’re gonna have to move off the site though; I’ve already made a few phone calls and sorted us somewhere.’

‘Why we gotta move? Surely if we finish off the cunts tonight, we’re safe where we are?’