With his mood and behaviour at an all-time low, he demanded Alfie go back to his mum’s for the time being.

‘Please, Dad, I don’t wanna live with Mum. Please let me stay with you.’

Tommy refused and made him pack his stuff and leave immediately. He knew he was losing his sanity and he didn’t want his son to witness it. He hadn’t washed, shaved, or changed his clothes for days – all he’d done was drink, smoke and snort.

With Alfie out of the way, he ordered up some crack. He rarely smoked the pipe in front of his boy any more. Snorting coke he could get away with, but inhaling rocks was heavy shit. With his first lug, he shut his eyes and smiled. He felt better now and was ready to make plans. Maria was a trappy cow and he was determined to shut that pretty mouth of hers once and for all.

‘Can I have some more salad, Daddy?’ asked Lily, thrusting her bowl his way.

Maria and James both burst out laughing. She was only six years old and went through more lettuce than a fucking rabbit. James took her hand and led her back to the salad bar. Lily was a proper Daddy’s girl, whereas Tara was all for Maria. The girls’ personalities were chalk and cheese. Tara was very feminine and loved anything girly, while Lily was the complete opposite. Unlike her sister, she took no interest in dancing, fashion and pretty dolls, and was more into climbing trees and playing football with the boys.

‘Is that enough for yer?’ James said, showing her the bowl.

Studying the contents, she put her hands on her hips. ‘You haven’t put the pink sauce on, Daddy.’

James laughed at the annoyance in her voice. His mum had got her spot-on: ‘I’m telling yer now, James, she’s six going on sixteen. You’ll have your hands full with her; she’s a cowson, you mark my words,’ she told him.

Maria smiled as father and daughter returned to the table. She loved eating out with James and the girls, and her family life was everything that she’d dreamed it would be. James was a great provider, a wonderful dad and she was so bloody happy with him. They’d recently decided to try for another baby; it had been his idea and, even though he hadn’t admitted it, she knew that he was desperate for a boy.

‘I need to go for a pee,’ Lily announced.

Telling Tara to take her sister to the toilet, Maria turned to James.

‘What time you off tonight?’

James sighed. ‘About ten.’

Maria said nothing, but he knew what she was thinking. He hated leaving his family for days at a time, just as much as Maria hated the situation. They’d spoken about his choice of career a lot lately. The money had been fantastic over the years, but they’d both agreed it was probably time for a change.

‘You’re not gonna get away with it forever, James. One of these days your luck’s gonna run out and I’ll be visiting you in prison,’ Maria said.

He’d taken her words on board and had spoken to Freddie about his dilemma. Surprisingly, Freddie felt exactly the same way. ‘Sarah’s been on my case for ages – I’m so glad you said something, I wanted to tell you I’d been having doubts, but I didn’t know how to broach the subject.’

It had been decided that they would have a proper chat about their future on their next trip. Both had money behind them and if they pooled it together, they’d hopefully have enough to set up a decent, legitimate business. With contacts in the building trade, they’d had a vague chat about becoming property developers. Nothing was set in stone yet, but they had some good ideas of how to get things started.

‘I think we should get Christmas out of the way and tell Bobby our decision in the New Year,’ James told Freddie.

Freddie hadn’t said much about the subject since, and James knew the reason why. Telling his uncle wasn’t going to be easy; Bobby Adams was not gonna be a happy bunny.

Johnny lifted the quilt from over his head. ‘Thanks, Nan, I’ll have it later.’

Not knowing what to say to entice him out of the room, Maureen walked away. She knew that he wouldn’t eat it later – he’d throw it in the bin, like all the rest of the dinners he kept pretending to eat. Not hungry herself, Maureen dished a plate up for Ethel.

‘I’ve done you some dinner, Mum.’

Ethel looked at the tray in horror. ‘I ain’t eating that shit, it looks like a plate of fuckin’ worms.’

Maureen put it on the sofa beside her. The old cow would eat it in a minute, she’d put her house on it.

Face etched with worry, Maureen sat opposite her. It was a week now since Susan’s funeral and Johnny had barely eaten or come out of his bedroom. The job that he usually adored had gone by the wayside as well. It was as though he’d put his whole life on hold.

Seeing Ethel tuck into her plate of worms, Maureen smiled for the first time in days. Ethel might be a cantankerous old fucker, but she had a way of cheering Maureen up. As Ethel wolfed the lot, Maureen took the empty plate away from her.

‘Nice was it? I thought you didn’t like spaghetti bolognaise?’

Ethel eyed her with sarcasm. ‘It was fucking rotten,’ she insisted.

Maureen got a cloth and wiped what she’d dropped off her cardigan. ‘With a mouth as big as yours, I’m surprised you can miss it,’ she said sarcastically.

Ethel playfully walloped her. She loved her Maureen more than anyone in the world, and without her she’d be shunted off to God’s waiting room. She hated them fucking homes. Poor old souls, all sitting there in their own shit and piss, waiting to die.

Maureen poured her a Guinness and sat down next to her. ‘What we gonna do about Johnny, Mum? His boss keeps ringing up and he’s gonna have to go back to work next week. He still won’t come out of his room, I don’t know what else to do to help him.’

Ethel knew exactly what to do. ‘Ring his fucking father; it’s about time he stood up to his responsibilities. ’Ere, give us that phone, I’ll ring the no-good bastard for yer.’

Maureen refused to give Ethel the phone, but thought about her idea. Johnny needed guidance and Royston should bloody well take responsibility for once.

She smiled at Ethel. ‘Do you know what? I think you might be right, Mum. I’ll ring him tomorrow morning – hopefully he’ll be at work then. I don’t wanna ring him while he’s at home with his family; she’s a funny one that Jamaican bird he married.’

Sipping her drink, Ethel had a smug expression plastered across her wise old face. She might no longer be a spring chicken, but she was always fucking right.

Last night he’d done a bit of spying and he knew that James had gone away. He’d borrowed his mate’s work van and had hidden in the back of it. The windows were blacked out to stave off thieves nicking any tools that may be inside. In other words, you could see out, but couldn’t see in.

Tommy was on cloud nine as he watched his brother load the sleeping bag and all the camping equipment. It was obvious that he was going on a run and, from past experience, Tommy was sure that James would be away for a couple of days at least.

Smiling like the Cheshire Cat, he’d clambered into the front seat and calmly driven away. Once back home, he’d got his thinking cap on. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do to Maria, but obviously he’d have to wait until she’d taken the kids to school and was indoors alone. He wasn’t planning on physically hurting her. He just wanted to frighten the living daylights out of the foul-mouthed whore, or watch her beg in terror for a couple of hours – that would be good enough revenge. At least then she wouldn’t be so fucking cocky in the future. As long as he didn’t lose his temper and mark her, she would have to keep his visit quiet.

There was no way she’d say anything to James. How could she? She’d be far too worried about her sordid past coming back to haunt her.

Pouring himself another large scotch, Tommy smiled to himself. He couldn’t wait to see the look of horror on that pretty little face of hers. Fucking bitch. What goes around comes around.

Lily said nothing. She’d been playing outside in the garden, but daren’t admit it, as she was banned from going out there of a morning. Unfortunately, she had fallen into a puddle of mud, hence her mother’s anger.

‘Go upstairs and quickly get changed. Hurry up, else you’ll be late for school.’

Exasperated by her tomboy of a daughter, Maria turned to Tara and smiled. ‘Do you want me to plait your hair while we’re waiting for madam?’

‘Yes please, Mummy.’

Maria was deep in thought as she brushed her daughter’s hair. She loved the girls equally, but wished Lily would be more feminine, like Tara. It would save her an awful lot of washing and ironing, as she was such a dirty little mare.

‘I’m ready, Mum.’

Looking at Lily, both Maria and Tara burst out laughing. She’d changed her school uniform, but still looked like a bundle of shit tied up ugly. With one sock up and one down, one bunchie in and one out, she looked like Orphan Annie.

Maria straightened her out and cuddled her. ‘What am I gonna do with you, eh?’

Lily shook her head. ‘I don’t really know, Mummy.’

Maria saw the girls into the back of the four-wheel drive and checked that their belts were on. Hearing them giggle and chat was her favourite part of the journey. For complete opposites, they got on extremely well together and rarely ever argued. Glancing into her mirror, she smiled as she hit the accelerator.

Crouching down behind the two front seats, he opened his goody bag. He’d come well prepared: he had scotch, lager, puff and cocaine. He hadn’t brought the pipe, just the powder. Preparing a couple of lines, he did them and took a swig from the whisky bottle. She’d be back soon, the slag, and then the party could really start.

Usually, she had a coffee and a chinwag at the gym, but today she was in a rush, as she’d invited her newfound friends over for lunch.

Last week she’d had lunch at Lavinia’s beautiful home. Now it was time to return the offer and she was determined to get it right. She’d always hated cooking and wasn’t very good at it but, determined to impress, she’d bought a recipe book. She didn’t want to attempt anything too difficult, and with James’s input and advice, she’d decided on garlic mussels for starters, salade Niçoise for main and fresh fruit salad for dessert. Desperate to get things spot-on, she’d spent ages choosing the wine.

‘How fucking much?’ James joked as he footed the bill.

She laughed. These women served up the finest of everything in their houses and she was determined to follow in their footsteps. She may not have been brought up in or around class, but it was never too late to learn. As her mother always said, ‘When in Rome, do as the Romans do.’

Pulling up on her drive, Maria grabbed her bag and ran up the path. Her guests were due to arrive in less than two hours and she needed to get her arse in gear.

As Tommy watched her go into the house, he noticed that he was sweating with nerves. He knew what the problem was: too much coke always made him feel paranoid and, as usual, he’d overdone it.

Rolling a joint, he lit it and knocked back the scotch. He needed to bring himself down before he did anything. Two joints and half a litre later, he felt the coke wear off and the paranoia leave his body. Checking that nobody was about, he crept out of the van.

He walked up the path and rang the doorbell. There was no answer, so he rang it again.

‘Who is it?’ he heard the bitch shout.

Smiling, he said nothing.

‘Is that you, girls?’ he heard her say.

‘Yes,’ he said imitating a girlie voice.

‘Hang on a sec, I’m just getting out of the bath.’

Tommy couldn’t believe his luck. He’d sounded like the big bad wolf in ‘Little Red Riding Hood’, and the silly tart was probably half naked as well.

As her footsteps moved nearer, his heart began to beat faster. When she opened the door, he smiled at the look of horror on her face.

Barging his way in, he kicked the door shut and put his hand over her mouth to stop her screaming.

‘Surprise, surprise, you fuckin’ slag.’