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'What are you trying to tell me, Mum?'

'It's black, Patrick.'

Lance was collecting a debt that had been owed for many years. It was a big debt, fifteen grand. Patrick had bought it for two thousand but only because the person who had borrowed the money in the first place had exhausted every avenue trying to get it repaid. It was now a debt for seventeen thousand as it was not just the original debt that needed to be paid in full but also the money weighed out to purchase the debt in the first place. This was a good debt in more ways than one. It was a cheap debt to buy and so guaranteed a good return and it was also owed by a north London Face who needed to be brought down a peg or two.

Lance wanted to prove himself. He felt the need to show his brother that he could do things on his own and use his initiative and, more importantly, he didn't want Patrick having any dealings with Donny Barker unless he was present.

Lance knew his absence when Lenny was being outed was being whispered about; the gossip even said that he had been severely reprimanded. His absence had raised more than a few eyebrows, he knew. Kathleen and her problems were not really common knowledge; he knew that because he had made sure of it.

But there was still some talk about her though Lance always made sure the talkers realised their mistake. But Lance knew that he was not seen in the same light as his brother. He was determined to change that, he was determined to give his image a boost. He was going to make people respect him as they respected Patrick.

His brother had been lucky in so many ways; as the eldest, he had possessed the edge from birth. Their mother had always treated him with love whereas she had never once treated him with anything that even resembled love. Lance was convinced that everyone knew that she didn't care for him and that it was all pretend, that even now, she wouldn't speak directly to him if she could avoid it.

Lance loved Kathleen with the love he should have given to his mother if his mother had let him. Like him, Kathleen made his mother feel insecure, made her feel she had somehow fucked up, which of course she had. She thought she could pick and choose the children she wanted. Well, she couldn't.

His mother was the reason for everything bad that had happened to them all and she couldn't even admit it. So she dumped the blame on him and poor Kathleen. She was pregnant again; she produced children like other women shelled peas and with no shame or care for any of them, really. Another bastard would be produced by her and no one would be any the wiser as to who the father was. She didn't tell them anything, she didn't see it as any of their business. The girls, even his Kathleen, were all excited about it and acted like it was going to be some kind of joyous event. Yet not one of them had had the guts to mention it to her until she decided to tell them. Patrick wasn't even annoyed. He just wanted to know who the culprit was and if she was OK. No real bother about the fact she was knocked up once more, that another child would be produced and, knowing her, neglected. Patrick was so like her, he really didn't give a toss what people thought or how people perceived them as a family.

Well, one day she would see what she had done to them all, he would make sure of that. Lance knew so much about all of them and he never said a word but that could change, of course. If the need to open up presented itself he would not feel bad about it at all. It would not be the first time he had spilled the beans and he had a feeling it would not be the last.

Donny Barker walked out of his safe house then. Lance slipped out from the car he had stolen earlier that night and, walking over the road nonchalantly, he beat the older man to his vehicle. Donny was alone, a rare occurrence in his world, but, having seen Lance, he didn't feel any kind of fear. In fact, he smiled in recognition. Anyone observing them would have assumed that they were old mates or at least business associates of some description. But if they saw the look that was on Lance's face then they would realise that he wasn't smiling at all. In fact, he actually looked like most people's worst nightmare.

Eileen and the three younger kids were watching TV as usual. It was Saturday evening and they were all curled up on the sofa watching the
A-Team
and laughing at their antics.

Shamus, Colleen and Christy were used to being left to their own devices when their mother was working. It was strange, but they had known from an early age that without her out grafting, their lives would be a lot harder.

Unlike the others, who had been lucky enough to have a father who had been there at least some of the time for them, the three youngest had never had that kind of security.

And now Colleen and Christopher's father was out of their orbit, once and for all, they didn't really feel anything about him at all. Lenny Brewster had not really been a part of their lives ever, so his death actually meant nothing to them. The rumours around and about were rife and they had heard a whisper now and again about him but, in actual fact, they were not bothered one way or the other. Eileen knew the score, she had already put two and two together for herself and, like her younger siblings, accepted it as part and parcel of their lives.

She still had the odd flashback to the night her father had been murdered; as young as she was, she still remembered some of it with stunning clarity. This was usually when she least expected it and usually when she really didn't need the reminder. Pat Junior had never celebrated a birthday since and it wasn't through want of trying either. Their mum had tried her hardest to make the day a celebration rather than the anniversary of their father's death. Now though, none of them bothered. Patrick really didn't want the reminder and, as they had all got older, neither did any of them. Though they had always tried to make an effort for young Shamus's birthday, despite it coming so quickly after.

Eileen glanced at the clock. She would give it five minutes and then start getting herself ready to go out for the evening. At nearly fifteen years old she knew she looked much older. She also knew that if she didn't get out of this house on a regular basis, her twin sister's madness would infect her as well. She would never refer to Kathleen as mad in any way out loud but in her head she could think what she liked and she did. Frequently.

Kathleen was still confined to her bed and she was not eating anything of substance. For that matter, she was not even attempting to talk to anyone about what was wrong with her. Eileen was her twin and yet Kathleen still didn't trust her enough to talk to her about anything that was going on with her.

Eileen saw Colleen and Christopher whispering to each other, much the same as she had with Kathleen when they were younger.

'What are you two whispering about?'

Colleen laughed nervously. 'Nothing much. We were just wondering if Lance was going to come home soon, that's all. Do you know when he'll be back?'

It was a fair question, Eileen knew. She knew they were both worried about Lance's return to the house.

She felt so sorry for him because everyone knew that their mum, the woman who had birthed them all, couldn't stand to be in the same room as him. It hurt him, she knew it did. She knew that it had to be the worst feeling in the world knowing that your own mother didn't care about you at all. Lance had known that for years and she had known about it since she could remember. Even these two had sussed that much out.

'Lance is a grown man and he will come home when it suits him.'

Eileen got up then and wandered from the room slowly. She was going out and the last thing she needed was anyone drawing attention to her; she was not silly, she knew that this family could blow up in a heartbeat.

Colleen and Christy waited until Eileen was out of earshot before they started laughing with Shamus. They knew where she was going and who she was going there with. It was strange that the other people in the house had no idea about her secret life.

But then again, she was fifteen in a few weeks and to them she was ancient and they knew that if they opened their mouths she would launch them into outer space without a second's thought.

Jimmy Brick and Spider were in a private club off the Caledonian Road. They were drinking Guinness and dancing warily around each other. Neither of them knew exactly how conversant the other one was with the current state of affairs. This was a very common dilemma for many people in the know.

Conversation could be very difficult because, unless you were partnered with someone, or you had been briefed about a certain person, you could not talk freely to them without the fear of exposing information that could cause potential havoc. Spider and Jimmy went back a long way and so the situation was even more delicate than usual. Jimmy had been off the scene for many years and this was seen as cause for concern by Spider. Jimmy, for his part, knew that Spider had his own little firm and a respected firm at that. He also knew that his old mucker was wary of him because of his prolonged absence. That was something he had not discussed with anyone, of course, and would not do so unless he felt the time was right.

So when Pat finally bowled in surrounded by his boys, young men like him who had done a bit of bird and were willing to work for someone their own age who was going places, they were overly pleased to see him.

Spider watched Pat as he said hello to the right people, shook hands or patted the appropriate backs, and marvelled once more at the boy's natural business acumen. Like his father he knew how to play the game. Only this young man had a hard edge to him that was apparent to anyone who had any dealings with him.

As he sat down, Pat looked tired but both the men could also see that he was more than able to hold his own if it should come to that at any point. His new guys, his new minders, settled themselves nonchalantly around the bar. Spider saw immediately that they were in key positions so that if anything were to happen, they would be available to protect him within seconds. He was impressed; unless you knew the score, no one would have even realised what was going on. This told him that the boy was more protected and far more on the ball than anyone actually realised.

'All right, guys. Sorry I'm late, it's been a heavy day.'

The two men didn't respond, they weren't expected to.

'Jimmy, I need you close; you must have guessed that was coming, mate?'

Jimmy smiled slightly but it was a smile that signified agreement as if he had indeed known what was going to happen all along.

Pat Junior smiled then and Spider saw the menace in him, the real menace, for the first time ever. He had known this boy from birth and now he watched him and he knew that he was a changed lad from the one he had seen grow up. This was a different man to the one who had come home from prison all smiles and group hugs. The man he had weighed out and whose own son had visited and seen all right.

Pat was now someone to be wary of, was someone who had no qualms about erasing the enemy, and the enemy, it seemed, was anyone who happened to disagree with him.

'I'm going to run everything as before. Brewster did a competent enough job but he did not bother to utilise all the different branches of the organisation.'

Pat looked at Jimmy again.

'You know that my father always had his finger on the pulse? Well, Lenny wouldn't let anyone in the firm get near to anyone else. Everything had to go through him and that's why it was so easy to take him out and buy up his so-called fucking workforce.'

He stared at Jimmy then and it took a few seconds before Jimmy Brick realised that he was being dismissed. That Pat had said his piece and wanted him out of the frame until he needed him once more.

Spider saw the look of shock on Jimmy Brick's face and knew his earlier reservations were not without foundation. He also knew that Patrick Brodie Junior was a hard little fucker and he had no fear of anyone or anything.

Jimmy walked away from the table without a word but this was not something he was ever going to forget about. He was humiliated and he looked it.

Spider smiled at Pat and he smiled back at him with eyes that seemed to look through him as if he were a pane of glass.

Spider knew exactly what Pat wanted and he also knew that he was going to give it to him. This boy had the one thing going for him that everyone in their world dreamed of having; a self-belief that was as intimidating to the people around him as it was natural to the man himself. He saw the new crew with him and knew they were all young and up-and-coming. He knew that Patrick was the new kid on their particular block. He had made good friends in nick and he had utilised them with the precision of an army general.

This was a dangerous man, and the fact that he himself had not noticed just how dangerous he was, until now, bothered him more than he would care to admit.

His son, Mac, was as close to Pat as any brother could be, and Spider wondered if his boy understood just how precarious and how dangerous this young man's friendship could turn out to be.

Lil was doing what she had been asked to do by her son and, even though it wasn't hard work or even difficult work, she knew it was important work. For her son it was important and he needed someone he could trust with his life to do it. She was going through everything Lenny had used in his quest for world domination and she had to admit that, like her husband, he had no idea how to guarantee any of his main businesses. He had put them all into the hands of friends; a shrewd move in some ways but not in others. For example, none of them seemed conversant with how to make money from a club and that was easier than conning Social Security. It was a cash business, for fuck's sake, how could you not profit from that? And, also, as she knew to her detriment, if the person died the so-called mates who owned the premises on paper often developed a terrible case of amnesia. After all, they owned everything fair and square, didn't they? She should know, it had happened to her.

Lil was making notes on who to aim out the door and who she was going to put in their place. She had a natural head for business; even her husband had admitted that. But she had been born in the wrong era; women were not supposed to be earners and listened to or respected. Patrick, who trusted her judgement, had still not seen fit to give her the fucking time of day. She knew she should let it go, leave the past where it was, in the past. But, somehow, she never seemed able to forget about it.