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Lily had regretted having her mother back in her life many times, and always because of Lance. A

Pat, however, was a different kettle of fish. He had put her mother in her place when he had seen his son in bed with her, asleep in her arms. Lance had been naked and, for some reason, this had sent Patrick off on a roaring diatribe that had raised the roof and also ensured that her mother was no longer encouraged to stay the night. Now that she was big with her pregnancy, her mother's uses were limited as Lil wasn't working the clubs any more. Her sons were therefore benefiting from her being home of an evening insomuch as their behaviour was being monitored more than usual. Lance hated it, of course, because he couldn't get away with anything and he couldn't stay up with his gra

Pat Junior, on the other hand, loved having her home all the time. In fact, she felt his relief when the nights drew in because she realised just how much of a hold her mother had over her younger son. She was almost pleased to learn that the school felt pretty much the same way as she did about Lance. They told her that he was not a sociable child and she had smiled and interpreted the words as they were meant to be interpreted. He was a bully and, if his father had been anyone else, he would have been taken properly in hand. Pat Junior, God love him, had been pushed aside to make way for Lance, the golden boy, the child she knew A

Yet no matter what happened, Lil couldn't find it in her heart to push her mother away completely. Somehow she knew that the woman was experiencing love for the first time in her life and as she had such difficulty loving Lance herself, she knew she was guilty of letting her mother give it to him instead. Lance, God love him, gave her the creeps and the guilt she felt because of this was what kept her mother in her life. The new child would be born soon and she would reassess the situation then. At the moment though, she was tired and out of sorts. Lance and his problems would have to wait.

A

The shriek that came from the bedroom brought both women ru

Lance screamed even louder and, without thinking, she slapped him too, a stinging blow across his face. 'Get out of my sight before I do for you, boy!'

Lil's voice was deep and resonant, the force of the words penetrated the child's brain and he ran from the room, the shock of the slap quieting him.

Lil pulled Patrick into her arms, hugging him to her. He still wasn't crying, even though the blow from her mother must have been painful.

'You and all, Mother, out.'

A

'Calm yourself down, Lil, think of the baby.' Her voice was low, her face a travesty of hurt and sorrow.

'Get the fuck out of my house.' Lil was talking through her teeth, her anger causing her to pant, and it was this more than anything that warned A

'I am sorry. Lil, will you please calm down, love?'

A

'Go home, Mother, before I do something I regret.'

A

Patrick stared up at her and said sadly, 'It weren't my fault, Mum.'

She squeezed him to her once more, realising how big he was growing and how sturdy he was.

'What did he do, Pat?'

'He hurt me, he grabbed me and he hurt me.'

He indicated his groin as he spoke and Lil didn't question what he said, as most women would after hearing that said about their child; she knew Pat Junior was telling the truth.

'Go and get yourself a treat and send your brother in.'

She sat herself on the bed and waited until her younger son slipped into the room. 'Why did you grab him there? What have you been told about that?'

He stared into her eyes and, for the first time ever, she saw wariness and fear.

'I didn't…' The whine was in his voice now. The poor-me whine that had A

She pushed her face close to his and had the satisfaction of seeing him flinch. 'Don't you lie to me, boy. Now, get the belt.'

'Please, Mum, please.' He was shaking his head, the shock and terror evident from the whiteness of his face.

She slapped him once more across his cheek, the force snapping his head to the side with a sickening crunch. 'Get the belt, boy, and get it now.'

Lance stumbled from the room, his face already awash with tears.

She watched him go. He was heavier than Pat, similar-looking, but with a tendency to flabbiness. It was because her mother gave him whatever he asked for. Well, he was going to get what he was asking for today, she was determined on that much.

Pat was in Brixton. He pulled up outside a terraced house in Ballater Road and, before turning off the engine, he sat back on the plush leather seats and listened to the radio for a few minutes. He needed a second to calm himself down before he went inside.

The house was small, a three-bedroom semi, nothing to write home about; it blended in with the other dilapidated properties in the road. But Pat knew that inside this house was the information he needed.

As he walked up the small pathway, the door was discreetly opened by a tall black man with dreadlocks and bloodshot eyes. Spider Block was a mate, and they nodded to each other cautiously. 'He expecting you, man.'