Now, he saw the power women could wield over their sons or their lovers and he was glad he had never been reduced to anything so fucking humiliating.

'What about Colleen and Christy? What about them, Lenny?'

He laughed. His face was really hurting now and he could feel the blood dripping on to the floor. It was surreal, the whole thing was surreal.

'What about them, Lil? They mean nothing to me, no more than you ever did.'

It was said so nastily and with such malice and hatred that Lil couldn't listen to him any more.

'You took everything from me, Lenny, but it doesn't matter. None of it matters any more because if I got nothing else from you, I got those kids and they are worth the world.'

She looked at him then and she saw the blood and the sweat and she also saw the fear. He was frightened out of his life and she knew he had always been frightened of something or someone. Even Patrick had been taken out by the Williams brothers; this man would never have had the guts to do it himself. He had been the catalyst for all her family's ills and yet he had also given her two children she adored.

Her fear of him was gone; she had marked him as he had bragged about marking her. He had seen his children as nothing more than chains to keep her bound to him and they had been doing exactly that for far too long. Her son was going to rectify everything that had happened to them and, at last, she was going to be free of this man and his hate.

'I'll see you two later.'

Lil walked from the room then and she felt lighter than she had in years. People thought that violence solved nothing and they were right. But she also knew that sometimes rough justice was all that people like her had left.

Lenny watched her go. He had the demonic look of a maniac and he watched in fear as Jimmy Brick and Pat Brodie took heavy chains from their pockets and then wrapped them delicately around their knuckles. He knew he would die in agony and then only after a long beating.

'I am going to enjoy this, Lenny, you fucking piece of shit.'

He laughed at them, he was on autopilot now. 'And what will you tell your little brother and sister, Pat? That you murdered their dad? I bet that will go down a fucking bundle, won't it?'

'They won't give a shit. They think you're a twat anyway, Lenny; they don't even like you.'

Patrick pulled the chain tight and gave him a hard belt; he made sure it landed on the wound his mother had already inflicted. He had learned that one in nick; if the person you were fighting had any kind of wound, worry it and keep at it and the pain would be much more intense. It was the psychological angle and all. Once a cut was there it was human nature to try to protect it from more harm.

'You are going to die, Lenny, and do you know, not one of your fucking blokes tried to stick up for you. Not one of them questioned what we were going to do to you.'

Jimmy grinned then and Lenny knew he would be over the moon at his part tonight.

'You are one fucking wanker and you spent your life taking what you wanted. Well, now it's my turn.'

Jimmy had the chain and he also had a Stanley knife and he opened up Lenny's belly with it.

Lenny felt the sting as it sliced into his skin and he saw Patrick Brodie watching the proceedings with a casual air. He knew that this was indeed his father's son. It was no more than he expected, and he hoped he would take all he had to come, like a man. Patrick Senior had, he knew. He had not once begged for his life and he had put up a fucking good fight and all.

When Patrick started to lay in to Lenny, Jimmy stepped back and watched it all with a quiet interest. He observed the younger man and knew he was going to be all right. Like his father, he had the right temperament for skulduggery and prison life.

Within minutes, Lenny Brewster was begging for mercy, but he didn't get any.

Lil could hear him screaming with pain, as could everyone in the club. No one mentioned anything though. The hostesses who were not occupied with customers sat on the meat seats smoking and drinking and acted like they couldn't hear anything.

Lily Brodie felt, for the first time in years, on top form once more. She felt the weight of Lenny's anger and his hatred dropping away from her. Even though the father of two of her children was being murdered, somehow it just didn't seem wrong to her. She turned up the music until the sound of the Stylistics drowned out Lenny Brewster's screams.

Lenny was begging for his life as they sang, 'Betcha By Golly Wow'. It seemed a fitting tribute as far as Lil was concerned. The girls were watching her carefully and she knew that they were not going to give her any trouble. They knew the score better than anyone.

As Lil stood behind the bar and surveyed her domain, she felt the rush of excitement course through her veins. Then, picturing her Patrick in her mind's eye, she knew he would have been proud of his son, his firstborn.

Colin the doorman winked at her and she smiled then. Life could only get easier from now on and she had waited a long time for that to finally happen.

Lenny Brewster's body was never found. He had been put in the crusher of a scrapyard in south London, his coffin being the boot of a Hillman Imp.

He had still been lucid as he was thrown into the boot by Patrick and Jimmy. Patrick had been determined on that much and Jimmy had been happy enough to go along with it. The last thing Lenny had seen was the two men smiling down at him as they slammed the boot shut. He had heard the sound of the crusher as it had been cranked up and he had felt the car being raised from the ground. As it swung in the air the car had felt like a metal prison and Lenny knew that no one would care that he had disappeared, that no one would even bother trying to find out what had happened to him.

The noise of the metal as it was crushed into a small cube masked the screams of the man inside as he felt the heavy crush-bars coming towards him. The car buckled and bent as he tried frantically to scratch his way out. The lifeforce was so strong that he was still attempting to escape as his head was gripped as in a vice, and his body dismantled with bloodcurdling ease. When the small cube finally passed through the machine and landed with a quiet thud on to the dirt floor, Jimmy saw Patrick hawk deeply in his throat and spit on it.

An hour later, Spider was surprised to see the two men come into his drinking club and he knew then, that it was all over.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Kathleen was in bed and no one could get her up. She couldn't seem to get herself together. Lance, as always, was spending as much time as he could with her. He talked to her for hours in his low voice, calming her down and making it easier for everyone else in the house. Lil couldn't keep her patience with her daughter; considering everything she had to contend with on a daily basis, a teenage drama queen was not something she had much sympathy for. The doctor said she was depressed, but how could a girl that age be depressed? And about what, for fuck's sake? The price of make-up, the new fashions; it was hard to understand. But Lil still felt guilt over Kathleen and her inability to make everything all right for her. The doctor had pilled her up and left them to it.

Now, she had all this shit to contend with and, Annie being Annie, was also in the frame. She was with the pair of them as often as they would allow her and, as good as Annie might be now, Lil still remembered how she had treated her all those years ago. She knew that her mother had caused a lot of the problems in her life. Probably in her kids' lives as well.

Lil was still getting over the night's events. Even though her heart was telling her it was wrong, she was relieved that Lenny Brewster was out of all their lives at last. He had been an enormous presence; even when he wasn't around, his personality and his hatefulness had hung over the house like a shroud. His absolute disregard for the children had hurt, not just her, but them too. Then, he would arrive out of the blue, and the anger in him would make everyone feel uneasy. Lenny had enjoyed the fear his presence created and she had hated herself for what she had put her family through. The kids had felt his indifference from an early age. Now they would not have to go through the trauma of knowing he was nearby and that his absence was a deliberate ploy to hurt them, even at their young age. Her Patrick, her boy, had saved them from him; he had done what should have been done many years before; he had wasted him. He had removed him from their lives like a cancer that had flourished, strangling the life out of everyone in its orbit.