Melanie thought she was the height of sophistication, she sniffed as loud as possible and with dramatic hand gestures so that everyone around her would know she had taken cocaine.

Freddie didn't have the heart to tell her that it was cut so badly, if it was a geezer it would have a face full of Mars Bars. He had scored some decent shit for himself off a mate that lunchtime, and he had just slipped it to Melanie who was now about to fly higher than the Hubble spacecraft.

Her eyes were already glittering and, he had to admit, coked-out birds before they hit the deck had a certain charm about them. This little bird really believed she knew her gear, knew a snort and knew a puff.

What an embarrassment she really was. A fucking babe in arms to him, and that was just how he liked them.

In a few minutes she would start to talk the hind leg off a table. He would find out all her business, and Freddie was looking forward to that. She was a lamb, and lambs like this one needed slaughtering badly. This was going to be a life lesson for her. He only hoped she realised how lucky she was that he was taking such an interest in her, even if it was mainly to kill a few hours and see if Jimmy came to him for a change.

He forced another drink on her and she gulped at it, as he knew she would, because her mouth was now drier than a nun's tits, and the whole bottom of her face had gone numb. As she leaned forward he saw she was about to stumble and he grabbed her in his arms, in a tight bear hug that made her feel cared for, made her feel safe.

'Steady on, girl, you sure you're all right?'

He was jovial, he was on his best behaviour, and he was also copping a feel of her very adventurous-looking Bristols. He guessed from her smile that they had been handled more times than a footballer's dick but he didn't care about that. He fancied a bit of soft, and big bouncy ones were always good for a bit of soft.

Judging by her belly, which she was now forgetting to hold in, she usually drank lager.

Well, she was in for an education today, and he was just in the mood to start educating her.

Paul was worried about the condition of his wife's niece and knew without a doubt that he was going to get the blame for it. 'Leave her alone, Freddie. Come on, Mel love. Go on up to Liselle.'

Melanie pushed her long straggly blond hair out of her face and said belligerently, 'Piss off, Paul, I am over eighteen, you know.'

Her hostility was rubbing off on Freddie now as he watched the little scene unfolding before his eyes. 'What the fuck's it got to do with you anyway, Paul?'

Paul shrugged. 'It's Liselle's niece.'

Freddie bellowed at the poor girl, 'Are you? Really?'

She nodded and they both started to laugh.

Paul knew when he was beaten but he tried once more, knowing Liselle would get a blow-by-blow account off the regular punters. 'Come on, you're off your nut. Let me take you up to Liselle, eh?'

Freddie pushed Paul's arms away from the girl, nearly knocking her over in the process.

'Fuck off", you prick, she is all right with me.'

Paul sighed. 'Come on, Freddie, how would you feel if it was one of your girls? Liselle will do her crust, and you know it.'

He was the voice of reason, the nice bloke. None of which cut any ice with Freddie Jackson, who only saw his afternoon's shag disappearing before his eyes. 'Fuck off, Paul, and I mean it.'

The menace was evident, as was the way he suddenly straightened up, pulled back his shoulders and bared his teeth, making him look almost feral.

'Why don't you go and ring Ozzy, or even Jimmy, his chief arsehole licker, and grass me up, tell them what I've been doing all day, eh? You fucking snotbag… Tell them, right, that I think they are a pair of cunts. Go on-' he was laughing now at his own words – 'tell them that. Go on, I dare you.'

Everyone in the pub had gone quiet as he shouted out his insults and Paul knew his ravings were going to be all over the place within hours. Freddie should have known better than to let his mouth run away with him like that. It wasn't the first time it had happened, though, lately it had been a frequent event. He was more annoyed that Freddie was mouthing off like that to impress a little girl who was destined for everything their world had to offer, except of course greatness.

Melanie was her mother's daughter, and he gave her three years before she really was old before her time. Paul could have launched his wife's niece out of the door and through Barking Park. Instead, he shook his head sadly and watched the girl as her screeching laugh became a very deep and very nasty smoker's cough.

She was eighteen and three months and she was listening to Freddie Jackson as if he was the oracle and looking at him as if he was something the cat had dragged in just for her.

Well, fuck her now, let her make her own mistakes. He had just about had enough. If Liselle stayed upstairs he was safe enough. If not, she could sort this lot out herself.

Jackie was alone in her house and as usual she was drinking vodka mixed with wine. She had been so sure that she was going to lay Maggie out once and for all, but she had ended up leaving with her daughters and her shame at her predicament was growing by the second.

Her daughters should have seen her confront and conquer the woman who had accused their father of rape, yet she knew they believed it of him. Her own kids thought that little of their father, and she knew they thought even less of her.

It was this that was troubling her so much. In a few hours her whole world had come crashing down around her ears and she knew that there would never be any going back now. Her mother and father would be in bits about it, especially after the kid dying. He was the kid now, because she knew in her heart that Freddie was his father. Freddie had fathered that little boy.

If Maggie told Jimmy what she had said there would be murders. Maggie had denied it all but she had known her sister was lying through her teeth. Maggie was trying to save her, trying to save the family and on one level she understood that. But looking at Maggie today, with her perfect hair and her perfect home, the usual jealous animosity was to the fore.

Even with the grief she knew her sister was having to cope with, Jackie still found it hard to feel any pity for her. In fact she felt that Maggie had all the luck, even her bloody kid had died and she was once more a free agent.

What she wouldn't have given to have offloaded hers over the years. Especially the girls, who had driven her mad with their backchat and their constant sniping at her.

She picked up the bottle of vodka and saw that she had downed over two thirds of it, and she wasn't even starting to feel drunk. It took longer and longer now, she was just topping up. She was half pissed all day every day. But instead of her usual happy feeling she was experiencing an incredible anger. It was bubbling away and the more she thought of how she had humiliated herself at Maggie's, the more she felt she should do something, something spectacular, to make amends.

Rape! She was having a laugh if she thought that old flannel would wash. The hate was inside her once more. She could never allow herself to believe that her husband had done something so monstrous. It was, she decided, the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard of, and she was not going to let that fucking skank get away with the accusation.

She swallowed down the rest of her drink and poured herself out another, larger glass. She was feeling in the mood for revenge now and she had a good idea how she was going to achieve it.

Jimmy needed a rocket up his arse and she was going to see that he got just that. She would make Maggie think twice before she threw around those kind of allegations.