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'Nothing like a bit of sea air, a nice little holiday.'

Le

When they told the story of his demise, as he knew they would, in their cups, boys together, he wanted them to say that he took it like a man. That he had held his hand up, wiped his mouth and accepted the inevitable. He wanted them to give him credit for his bravery, talk about him with respect. He knew that a good death would earn him some kudos for the future, even though he would not be there to hear about it. He wanted his friends to know that he had not begged for his life or tried to talk his way out of it; he wanted to go with his pride intact, no matter how ruthlessly Brodie decided to eliminate him. This was what was left for him now: Brodie saying that he died like a man, and Brodie would say it, would give him his due, and in their world that meant a lot. The fact that he was thinking about how he would be perceived after his death at twenty-five years old did not enter his mind; the fact that it was that kind of warped thinking that had brought about his early demise, did not enter it either. He had gambled, and he had lost. If he had won, he would not have any sympathy as the victor, consequently he expected no less for himself. He smiled halfheartedly, still the hard nut, the Face. He swallowed down his fear, a small part of him relieved that he would not have to wait for the knock on the door any more; the door had finally been opened and a peace was descending over him.

'Not here, mate, me nan…'

The boy looked like a child, his chubby face was open and he was more than aware of his fate.

Pat gri

'Fuck me, Lil, a pair of brahmas there, girl.' Her stepfather's voice dragged her from the sleep that complete exhaustion and two Mogadon from a worried nurse had finally given to her.

Lil looked at him with dark-rimmed, tired eyes and Mick knew that she wished him as far away as was physically possible. He felt the urge to smack her across her smug face, but he didn't, he was still playing the game. Still acting as if she was his daughter and he was a doting grandfather.

The twins though, they were beauties; even he was touched by their good looks and the perfect symmetry of their features. They were two peas in a pod all right, and he envied Brodie his family more at this moment than ever before.

The word had hit the street that Brodie had out-gu

'You need anything, love?'

She barely moved her head in denial and the disrespect was not lost on him and he gri

'I bet Pat is over the moon, eh, love?'

This was said with the confidence of someone who knew that her husband had not been anywhere near and Lil could feel the animosity coming off her stepfather in waves. There was an underlying sarcasm in his voice that told her he had heard something about her old man's whereabouts. He was aware of the Old Bill turning the house over; her mother would have seen to that, so she kept her expression blank, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had rattled her.

The silence between them was finally broken by Mick's harsh cough. He broke eye contact and dropped his head on to his chest in a shamefaced ma

'Fuck off and leave me be.' Her voice was deep from a lack of sleep and emotion, and she was pleased to note that he left without a word. She was shaking again. It was over forty-eight hours and she had still not heard from Pat. That in itself was not unusual, he often disappeared, but he had to have known that they had been turned over. That she had been left to sort it while her belly was nearly dragging on the floor. He had to have thought of her condition and his boys, surely? The fact he had not contacted her made her feel abandoned, frightened and lonely.

No one seemed to be answering their phones either, and that alone told her that something was wrong, very wrong. Even the club phones were off the hook, so she had nothing and no one to allay her fears. Once more she felt the enormous weight of her worries lying heavy on her shoulders as she wondered where the fuck her old man was and why he had not been in touch. The ache in her breasts was nothing to the tight band of tension that was slowly squeezing her head until she felt as if it was going to explode. In a strange way, she hoped he was banged up, because if he was still at large it meant that he had not been bothered about them all; that they had not even entered his head.

Dicky Williams was getting out of his car with his usual jaunty air when he was shot repeatedly in the head and body. Le

It was too late for his death, that was the sad part, because the whole debacle was over and poor Dicky had been taken out after everything had been sorted, but no one seemed to have any knowledge about it whatsoever.

It was a tragedy, more so because the other Williamses were not capable of keeping themselves together without his strength of character. It would soon become apparent that Dicky's death, not Terry's, would be the catalyst that would bring the whole lot of them down.

Chapter Six

Kathleen and Eileen were toddling around the room and Pat was laughing at their antics. They were his heart and everyone, including the boys, accepted that fact. The girls, as they were always referred to, were gorgeous; blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauties who had never in their life been subject to anything except love and spoiling. At three, they were a mirror image of each other. They were also bright; early talkers, early walkers and they were already ruined by their parents and brothers.

Patrick watched his wife as she wiped noses, tidied up the house and cooked the di

She was a beautiful woman and four children had not diminished her allure in his eyes. If anything it had made her more attractive to him. But with the birth of the twins she had been forced to give up working with him, and even though she loved being a mother to them all, he knew she missed the excitement of being a part of his working life. She glanced at him and smiled sadly; she could see through him as if he was a pane of glass and they both knew it.

Guilt ate away at him. He had been on the missing list for two days when the girls were born, and the fact that his wife, his Lil, had not even mentioned it, spoke volumes. She had stopped asking him questions a long time ago, didn't want to know where he had been, she no longer cared. All she seemed interested in was money, she was obsessed with money. She demanded it as her right and how could he deny her? Four kids cost money, a lot of money, but sometimes he felt that was all he was to her, a meal ticket, a pay packet, even though he knew that was unfair.

He was turning into his father and he hated himself for that. But the clubs called to him, he got a few drinks inside him, started mug-bu