Lena had spent the best part of thirty years trying to look, outwardly at least, respectable to Mrs Faraday and two other tenants of the council block who acted as if they lived in Kensington Palace. Between her husband and Jackie she had fought a losing battle over those years. Now, though, with the grief inside her and the voice of Mrs Faraday bringing back memories of long-ago days when she had been humiliated by her. Lena suddenly lost all her maternal instincts and bolted from the flat like a banshee. Physically picking up her daughter by her clothes, she pushed and dragged her down the stairs, then she threw her out on to the pavement.

'Go home and sober up, you drunken mare, and don't come here any more. We've had enough of you for one bleeding day.'

She was pleased with herself for not letting a string of expletives come out of her mouth as was usual.

Mrs Faraday, who had been watching from her doorway, said primly, 'And about time too.'

To which an overwrought Lena answered, 'Oh, fuck off back inside, you nosy old bag.'

'Do you think Mum will be all right?'

Dianna shrugged. 'Who cares? I have had enough of her, to be honest. Drop me at the hospital, will you?'

Kim sighed. 'You're not going to see that Terry, are you?'

'Mind your own business, and ask Rox if I can stay at hers tonight. I think there's going to be fucking murders at home.'

'That's nothing new.'

Both girls were wary now of talking too much about Maggie and what their father had been accused of. It was too raw for them, too much out of their experience, so they decided to leave the adults to it and then just pick up the pieces afterwards, as was usual in the Jackson household.

But they were both frightened of what the outcome was going to be.

Jimmy and their father were both hard men, both were capable of taking care of themselves and both were due to have some kind of tear up because everyone knew that Jimmy had overtaken his mentor years before.

Maddie listened in silence as poor Joseph vented his spleen, and she knew it would do him the world of good to let out some of his anger and his sorrow. He looked awful.

As she got up and poured the boiling water into the teapot, he seemed to remember that this was Freddie's mother sitting at the table, and suddenly all his fight left him and he said sadly, 'Sorry, Maddie, it's nothing personal to you, love, but I fucking hate him. Everywhere he goes he causes upset or trouble of some description.'

She sighed then and patting her as always immaculately coiffed dark hair she said regretfully, 'I feel the same way about him meself.'

Lena thought she was going to drop down dead at the table in shock. Maddie had said him, in a voice drenched in hatred, and she knew she was talking about her son. Her Freddie, the love of her life.

Lena went and shut all the doors in the flat, and she closed all the windows too. Jackie had resumed her crying in the street, but this time it wasn't going to wash. She was not going out to her. She always ended up going to her house to sort her out, or picking her up from a pub because her mother's phone number was the only one she ever seemed to remember when drunk, or dragging her in from the street outside after an argument had gone over the top, and she was fed up with all the bloody drama of it.

Maddie poured the tea and as she sat down in the chair once more she said quietly, 'Freddie killed his father, you know.'

Lena and Joseph stared at the tidy-looking woman opposite them, and both wondered if they were hearing things.

She nodded at them as if to confirm that what she was saying was true.

'He was never the same after the beating Freddie had doled out to him. That's what he does you see, my Freddie, he beats you down. He sucks all the confidence and the life out of you and before you know it you are like that poor child who's screeching for England out there.'

She lit a Kensitas cigarette and sipped at her tea in the ladylike way extremely thin people seem to possess naturally, before saying softly, 'To be honest, I wouldn't put it past my son to have slashed his father's wrists for him. My husband had the blood count of a man five times over the legal driving limit, the coroner told me that to try and make me feel better. But I know Freddie was responsible, and he knows I know. Whatever happened in that room only happened because Freddie wanted it to happen, because Freddie made it happen.'

She smiled weakly at her two friends then, and Lena wondered how long this poor woman had wanted to get that family secret off her wheezing chest.

'You can't fucking out me, what about Ozzy?' Freddie was still gobsmacked. He had expected a row, he had even convinced himself that he might even have to take this lairy little fucker out.

He was more than aware, though, that if he offed Jimmy for whatever reason his days on this earth would be numbered. Jimmy had too many friends in their world, real friends and he gave them all a good living, himself included.

The one thing he had not expected today was to be told he was out of a job, out of the firm and out of all that entailed for him, from birds to money to a decent fight when he wanted one. But if Jimmy thought he was going to lumber him with a serious out, well, that was not going to happen, he was determined not to let that happen.

Jimmy shrugged nonchalantly. 'Oz has given everything over to me. When he dies, and I hope that is not for a long time, it's mine, Freddie. I am to all intents and purposes Ozzy, and everyone answers to me. That, unfortunately, once included you, Freddie, but not any more. Ozzy, if you are interested, is right behind me.'

He could see the way the pupils of Freddie's eyes widened at his words, and Jimmy admired the way he recovered himself so quickly.

'You are finished on this manor, mate, and you had better accept that. If anyone employs you then I don't deal with them any longer and, ergo, neither will anyone else. It's as simple as that. No one works anything here without my express say-so, remember. I have a touch off everything and everyone, the blags, the clubs, the pubs, the dealers, even the late-night fucking burger vans are indirectly run by me or mine. I rowed you out fucking years ago, Fred, and now you are really out, out in the freezing-your-gonads-off cold. You and that animal you spawned with your piss head of a wife are dead to me. All that is left for you now, Freddie, is to pick up and start over somewhere else, because you ain't welcome here.'

He picked up his mobile and his car keys and made to leave.

Freddie grabbed him by the shirtsleeve. 'You can't do this to me, Jimmy.'

Jimmy shrugged him off aggressively. 'I just did, Freddie. You had your chance and you blew it, like you've blown every chance you've ever had.' He shrugged once more and then smiled happily. 'Bye.'

Freddie had envisaged many things on this day but not to be outed. Out of all this meant he was a complete no one, it meant all he had ever known would be gone from him. He would have to move away, he would have to disappear because the shame would kill him otherwise. No one would even acknowledge him if Jimmy outed him. He felt almost sick now with apprehension and dread.

He had to keep his wits about him, he had to try to talk his way through to Jimmy, Jimmy who had loved him once. The enormity of what had happened was hitting him like a ball-peen hammer, and he felt fear, real fear, for the first time in years.

'He is my son, Jimmy, don't forget that. I got him help, he's on drugs… It was a game, that's all, a tragic game that went wrong.'

Jimmy looked into the face so like his own and said with absolute incredulity, 'He needs locking away and I tell you now, once this is all over, if you ain't fucked off out of it somewhere new, I am telling a few choice people what the score is with him. Joseph knows, he always said Little Freddie was a fucking few paving stones short of a patio. If I see him I will fucking kill him. He might be a kid but he is a big cunt and he's a dangerous cunt, and he is for the out along with you and that fucking scab you married. I don't ever want to clap eyes on you, that retard you fucking fathered, or the fucking moron you call your wife, ever again.'