Jackie turned on her little sister then, because the truth of the words hit her like a cold shower. 'Don't you fucking lecture me, madam. I know what you and Happy Harold get up to on my settee.'

For the first time ever Maggie wasn't frightened of the woman towering over her. Instead she was so angry she felt as if she could fight her own end if needs be.

She shouted into her sister's now shocked face. 'Oh shut the fuck up, Jackie, me and Jimmy are courting. You should be ashamed of yourself!'

'She ain't got no fucking shame. If she did she wouldn't be with him!'

Jackie turned on her father then.

The screaming was reaching crescendo when Maggie picked up her bag and coat and left the house. She was shaking with anger at the knowledge her sister would take any kind of drugs while carrying a child, even if the child was fathered by a piece of shit like Freddie Jackson. It was wrong, so very wrong. And if she stayed near Jackie she would not be responsible for her actions.

Outside she breathed in the cold air to try to calm herself down. Freddie had been home for eight months so Jackie could be a few months gone. She had always had a big stomach and since the last one it was even harder to tell, plus she still didn't stop eating even with all the pills she popped.

Maggie lit a cigarette and started to walk to her friend's. She needed to distance herself from her sister for one night at least.

Jimmy would know where to find her if needs be.

Siddy Clancy was laughing and Freddie laughed along with him even though he didn't think the joke was funny. But he knew how to play the game, he knew the score.

Siddy had heard about the rip-offs and Freddie had been expecting a tug, he had just expected it sooner.

In fact the reason he had lost so much respect for Siddy was because he had swallowed it for so long. Freddie was guessing, rightly, that someone up the food chain had finally collared Siddy for a word and now he was doing his Doris Day act.

They were both drunk, drinking heavily to prove a point. Freddie was aware that he had sunk one too many vodkas for his own good. But then he looked at Siddy and realised the man was gone. He was completely out of his box and this was made even more apparent by the fact he was talking too much about Ozzy and Ozzy's business.

Freddie looked around the small saloon bar and noticed that it was nearly empty, then he remembered they were on afters and it was an Ozzy-friendly pub. One he had bought and managed many moons ago, before he had been sentenced for armed robbery and conspiracy charges. The murder had never been proved, however, but he could still be brought to book over it, everyone knew that.

Filth wanted him to stay where he was for the duration and at this moment in time so did Freddie. He saw an opportunity and he was determined to take it.

'What are you trying to say, then?' He frowned. 'You insinuating that Ozzy ain't straight up?'

His voice was loud and he knew the conversation was being listened to by Paul Becks, who ran the pub, and his wife Liselle, a pretty girl whose demeanour hid a psychotic personality.

In his drunken state Siddy had let his guard down, and now he was playing the big man, playing the part he had always played thanks to his inexhaustible supply of brothers and his natural aggressiveness.

'All I am saying is Ozzy has been away a long time, and this is my fucking manor now.' Somewhere in his drink-addled brain a small voice was telling him to go home, that Freddie was not the man to boast to. But he was enjoying himself, he was enjoying bigging himself up even though in reality he didn't need to do it.

Siddy lit a cigarette with difficulty and when he finally puffed on it to get it alight he started coughing.

Freddie looked at Paul and shook his head sadly. 'Get home, Siddy, you are talking too much.'

It was said with contempt and Freddie knew that he had in effect thrown down a gauntlet. He planted his feet firmly on the floor ready for an attack,

Ozzy had always told him, 'You give people the bullets and they will fire them'. How right he was.

'What do you fucking mean!' Clancy was annoyed now he had been caught out. He had assumed Freddie was up for the gossip and now he knew he was wrong he wanted to shut him up.

'Fucking Ozzy is a nice bloke, I don't dispute that, but he's been away ten years and he still has a big lump before he's eligible for parole. It's me who's run the fucking streets for him, me and my brothers.'

He swallowed down his drink in one gulp.

'Don't you fucking come the old woman with me, mate. I knew him when we was kids.'

Freddie laughed then. 'Well, I was banged up with him, and he is straight up, he is doing his bird with a smile. And a cheery wave. You can't even imagine what A grade is like, mate, let alone a double A cat prison. You never been inside, have you? Not even a remand.'

It was said contemptuously as if there was an underlying reason for it, and even in his cups Siddy knew he was wrong-footed. 'What do you mean by that? You fucking wanker…' Paul Becks walked closer to the counter where he always kept a loaded shotgun for events such as this.

Freddie held up a hand in a gesture of friendliness. 'Go home, Siddy. We are drunk and you are getting mouthy about Oz and he was fucking good to me in stir. He looked after me and I can't stand here and let you bad-mouth him.'

Freddie was keeping a wary eye on his protagonist and Paul and Liselle knew that. They were for Ozzy, who had also been very good to them. Consequently, at the moment they were with Freddie. For all Clancy's brothers they knew it was Ozzy who called the shots. Even from the SSB unit in Parkhurst.

They also knew that the only reason Freddie had ended up there was because he was a lunatic who had had more fights and arguments with screws than any other person in the prison system.

He was an unmanageable, someone who everyone was wary of, screws and cons alike.

Chapter Three

'How far gone is she?'

Maggie shrugged. 'She never said. Me dad let the cat out of the bag about that Bethany and she went ballistic. Then she said she was in the club, and we had all seen her just drop the Dexedrine. If Freddie knew…'

Jimmy nodded. He could understand the fear in her voice. 'Fucking hell, he'd go bonkers. He has his faults but he does love them kids.'

Maggie looked at him incredulously. Freddie could afford to love the kids, he hardly ever saw them. Whatever her sister was or wasn't, she had looked after them all from day one to the best of her ability.

'Are you having a laugh or what? Loves them kids? He is never home. He don't even know them.'

Jimmy sighed as if it was all too much trouble for him, and he looked so much like Freddie then that she felt a chill go through her.

'Take it from me, he loves them girls. He just wants a boy, that's all.'

He said it with such aplomb he could have been talking about himself, and this was not lost on Maggie. She had had a glimpse into the future and at the moment it did not augur well as far as she was concerned. Jimmy was spending too much time with Freddie, but that could be rectified.

Maggie tossed her long blond hair as she snorted in derision. 'Who's he think he is, Henry the Eighth? He wants a son?'

This was lost on Jimmy who had no knowledge of history unless it involved the lineage of someone he knew about.

'What are we going to do?'

Jimmy shrugged. He had tracked her down for no other reason than he fancied a quick tumble with her before he picked Freddie up from the Becks' pub. He loved her, but sometimes he just wanted a bit of the other with no aggravation. With her sister and his cousin, though, that was nigh on an impossibility. He adored her, he could not imagine life without her in it, but every now and again he just wanted a faceless fuck, and like all men of his ilk he saw it as his due. So, taking a deep breath he answered her as he knew she wanted him to. 'Fucked if I know, babe.'