‘I don’t wanna find him. I hope the nasty old bastard rots in hell,’ Joyce replied dramatically.

Joey smiled. He could see through his nan’s façade, her hard exterior. Deep down she loved his grandad and even though she rarely had a good word to say about him, she was a lost soul without him.

‘Shall I ring Jock? My guess is that Grandad’s stopping with him. What happened anyway? You haven’t even told me yet, Nan.’

Joycie finally broke down as she repeated what had happened and the names Stanley had called her. ‘I only went to meet Eddie so I could sort things out between you and him. I wanted you and your dad to get on ’cause I know your mum would have wanted it,’ she wept.

Joey put both of his arms around his nan and held her tightly. Stanley Smith was a weak man and his nan would never have lasted that many years married to a man with more balls. She was a woman who liked to have the final say, make the decisions, and a stronger man would have divorced her yonks ago.

‘I’ll ring Jock now. Is his number in your address book?’ Joey asked.

Joyce nodded tearfully. ‘He must be at Jock’s, ’cause he took them stinking, bastard pigeons with him,’ she said.

Joey released his nan’s grip, stood up, flicked through her address book and dialled Jock’s number. ‘Hiya Jock, it’s Joey, Stanley’s grandson. Is my grandad there? Only I’m at my nan’s house and she wants to speak to him.’

Joey listened to Jock’s reply and instantly felt rather nauseous. He couldn’t leave his nan alone until his grandad returned, and he had his own bloody life to be getting on with.

‘Well, can you make some phone calls, see if you can find out where he’s gone, Jock?’ Joey thanked Jock for his co-operation, then replaced the receiver and turned to Joyce.

‘He’s not there. Jock said they had a big row at some restaurant and he hasn’t seen or heard from Grandad since.’

Joyce shot off the sofa as though someone had put a bullet up her arse. She had noticed Stanley acting strangely a lot recently; he kept disappearing at lunchtimes, saying he was going for a ‘little drive’, and she could have sworn blind she’d smelled women’s perfume on his clothes two or three times in the past few months. She walked over to the drinks cabinet and poured herself a brandy for the shock.

‘Please, Nan, don’t drink any more,’ Joey pleaded.

‘Don’t fuckin’ drink any more! I need a bastard drink. Your grandfather has gone and got himself a bit of fluff, Joey, and when I find out who the old slapper is, I’m gonna wring her bleedin’ neck until her tits fall off. Little drive! I’ll show him what a little drive is when I drive that knife straight through his bollocks.’

Eddie Mitchell grinned as he heard Gina’s car pull up outside. He deemed himself too cool to run outside to meet her, but he was no good without a woman by his side and to say he had missed her was putting it mildly.