Instead, he shook his head in exaggerated sorrow and said with a voice filled with regret, 'Please, guys, give me a week. I just need a week, that's all. Then I'll have the money for you, I swear on my mother's eyesight.'

Lance was angry now. That this man would still gamble his kids' lives was to him as unbelievable as it was disgusting.

'You cunt. You'd still fucking try and keep from paying a debt even though we threatened your kids? You know me and you know what I am capable of. You fucking low-down, filthy piece of shit.'

'Come on, Lance. You know I'm good for it, especially if you're collecting it.'

'You bought tickets off Dodger Marks to go to Spain this Thursday. I own him, like I fucking own you now. I know everything about the people who owe me money. I put the word out and I gather information, so I know what I can ask for and what I can't before I even set foot near the mark in question. You think I believe that you were going to fucking pay me from fucking Benidorm? I would have turned up there, you fucking twat; there ain't nowhere you could go to escape me once I decide I want you.'

Lance was shaking his head and laughing at the incongruity of this person's absolute stupidity.

'This is it now. You're a fucking enemy for life. If I see you around, I'll spank you and you'll regret cunting me off for the rest of your fucking days.'

He pointed the gun at the man's feet and let off a shot. The noise in the kitchen was deafening and the blood and bone from the man's feet was everywhere. The man was staring down at the carnage of what had once been expensive shoes and was unable to believe what had just happened; the pain had not kicked in yet. It took a few minutes for that to happen. The shock of the event needed to wear off first before the brain realised what had occurred and then reacted appropriately.

Lance was like a maniac now. He was pointing the gun at the conservatory door, screaming with anger and hate.

'Go and get that baby, get that little girl. I'll fucking maim them and you'll remember your fucking disregard for their welfare all your life. I'll teach you a lesson for life. I'll fucking maim them so bad, you'll wish I'd killed them. And you, you'll wish I killed you and all.'

Donny was in as much shock as the man they were shaking down. Lance was gone, completely gone. He had lost it, his eyes were glazed, his face was red with anger and he was spraying spittle everywhere as he spoke. He was completely and utterly off the game.

'You fucking heard me, Donny! Get the fucking kids in here again. I want to teach this cunt a lesson, teach him that you take care of your family and you don't offer them up.'

The man was listening and, like Donny, he was in no doubt that Lance was capable of doing what he said, just to teach him a lesson, to prove a point.

He dropped on to his knees then. 'Please, no. Please, Lance. I'll take you to the safe and give you everything; money, jewellery, whatever you want. But please, please stop this now.'

Lance stared down at the man for long moments, and both him and Donny could see him physically trying to get his anger under control.

'Come on, Lance, let's get the money and split.'

Donny's voice seemed to penetrate his brain but it was at least five minutes before he answered him. He was battling it out with himself and though both men had heard of his vicious temper, none had seen it at close quarters before. It was a definite learning curve for all concerned.

'All right.'

He looked at the man on the floor. 'Fucking get a move on, show me what I need.'

The man had to drag himself from the kitchen; his feet and shins were like stumps of bloody meat and the blood was everywhere. He had to drag himself across the hallway and up the stairs to the galleried landing and Lance followed him while Donny watched the rest of the little family. By the time they entered the master bedroom, he had lost so much blood he was on the verge of passing out.

'The safe's behind that picture. The combination is 999999.'

Lance grinned at the irony of it.

'The emergency services number and you'll be needing them. I reckon you'll need more than a corn plaster on those feet of yours.'

Lance opened the safe quickly and, taking a carrier bag from his pocket, he emptied it of everything. It was more than the man owed but that was tough shit now.

He had done the one thing guaranteed to make Lance lose his temper for real.

He had tried to mug him off and he had tried it while his kids were in the vicinity.

He looked down at the man with hate and he said quietly, 'You can either lose a limb now or I'll take one of your kids out.'

The man was almost delirious with loss of blood and fear and Lance kicked him savagely in the face to try to bring him round. But all he managed to do was knock him unconscious and he was angry about it because he would have liked to know the answer to that question.

'Mum's been to the hospital for tests, Lance, have you heard?'

Lance nodded. Patrick sat opposite him and waited until Annie came into her little front room with the tea tray before continuing.

'Here you are, lads. Want a biscuit? I've got some Bourbons in the cupboard I keep for me guests.'

Pat shook his head.

'Sit down, Nan, I need to talk to you both.'

Annie sat down, the serious tone of his voice told her all she needed to know. 'Is it cancer?' Her voice was low, frightened and full of guilt.

Pat nodded sadly. 'She goes in tomorrow. They are going to take her breast off and they think she's got a good chance if they do that.'

He was not comfortable talking about women's things and he was still in shock that his mother, the strongest person he had known, was ill. Seriously ill, and her still relatively young, with young children. It was wrong, all wrong. Like she hadn't had enough to deal with in her life.

Lance sipped his tea, blowing on it noisily first. 'She'll need help. Me and Nan will take Kathleen in here with us and that'll make a difference to the household. The others won't have to watch her then, will they?'

Patrick was surprised at this turn of events but the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Lance seemed to understand his hesitation because he said loudly, 'She worries about her and so she should. She's not the full ten bob, as we all know. But she also knows that I'll watch over her and whatever she thinks of me, she knows I have a special rapport with Kathleen and always have. Remember when we were kids and you would always watch Eileen and I always watched Kathleen. Mum will rest easier knowing the girls ain't got to watch over her and all. Little Shawn will be more than enough for them.'

Annie nodded her agreement. 'He's got a point, Pat. She worries about her more than the others.'

Pat sipped his tea without answering her. He knew his granny and he knew that if Annie had Kathleen, it would take the onus off her having to look after the others. She would look good to everyone and she would come out of it all with Brownie points to spare, even though the bulk of the caring would be put on to himself and the girls.

Pat knew where Lance got his more suspect personality traits from. He loathed Annie at times, she was always after the main chance. But he didn't say that. He was trying to sort this out as best he could. If he didn't sort this out, he knew that no one else would. He also realised that Annie had not asked any details about the mastectomy or how her daughter was feeling. Or even what the visiting hours were in the hospital. She was seeing how this would play out for her in the future; she would be the centre of attention with her cronies and have something to talk about. She was a user and she always would be.

But he didn't say a word to either of them and instead drank his tea as quickly as possible and excused himself from their company.