Frankie ran down the stairs and threw herself into Stuart’s strong arms. ‘I was so worried about you, Stu. Have you seen my dad and Joey? Are they OK?’ she wept.

‘I ain’t seen ’em. Your dad told us to come ’ere to look after you and the kids. Where’s Joey gone, then?’ Stuart asked, enjoying Frankie’s warm welcome. He’d missed seeing her so bloody much and he’d only been in Scotland a couple of days.

‘I need to speak to you alone,’ Frankie said, dragging him into the kitchen by the arm.

Upstairs, Stanley was having one of his recurring nightmares about Pat the Pigeon. In this particular dream, she had his John Thomas in her mouth and she was laughing as she snapped the end of it off with her teeth.

‘Stanley, wake up, Stanley,’ Joycie said, shaking him furiously by the shoulder.

‘Get off me, leave me alone, you old slapper,’ Stanley mumbled.

Absolutely livid, Joyce punched her husband as hard as she could in the side of his ugly bald head. ‘How dare you call me that after what you did! I have never been so insulted in my entire life.’

Stanley sat up, clutching his sore head in his hands. ‘That bleedin’ hurt. What did you do that for?’

‘Because you called me an old slapper. You no good, philandering, bald-headed, old bastard.’

‘No I never. I didn’t even know you was in the bleedin’ bedroom.’

‘Get up. The kids are back home and there’s a drama going on downstairs. Apparently Jed killed Harry Mitchell and Frankie reckons our Raymond’s life’s in danger. Jimmy and Jed followed the lads home from Glasgow, by all accounts, and no one knows where they are now.’

As his wife dissolved into tears, Stanley forgot about the pain in the side of his head and jumped out of bed to comfort her. ‘Our Raymond will be fine, love. He’s a big boy and he knows how to look after himself. Now, go outside while I get dressed and I’ll come downstairs with you.’

‘Just hurry up and put your bleedin’ clothes on. You ain’t got nothing I ain’t seen before, Stanley. We produced two kids, you senile old fool.’

Stuart felt his blood run cold as he listened to what Frankie had to say.

‘You know what your dad’s like, Frankie. If this is true, he’ll never forgive you, so best you don’t tell him you knew about it. When I was inside with him, all he ever spoke about was how much he loved your mother and how he needed to track down his father’s killers. If this comes out, he’ll disown you,’ Stuart said truthfully.

‘But I’ve already told Joey and me nan. I can’t keep it secret now, can I?’ Frankie wept, feeling totally sorry for herself.