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Alan smiled lazily, exposing his expensive teeth for the first time since Ricky had gatecrashed into his club.

'Are you on fucking drugs or what?'

His complete contempt for the man sitting opposite him was apparent in his every word and Ricky Williams was offended.

'Go on. Piss off home to your mother and don't ever strong it with me again.'

Ricky sat it out, staring at Alan with a quiet intensity. 'You should use your loaf, Alan. If we all band together, what the fuck is Brodie going to do, eh? I have half of south London on board and me and my brothers are going to take a piece of this place in the end. If you come on board with us now, you will be the fucking main man. The fucking number one.'

Alan started laughing. But the boy's words were tempting, as Ricky had known they would be. Alan Palmer was a force to be reckoned with and that was a certified fact. Over the years he had gathered people to him, as any decent employer did; the fact most of his workforce were out on licence didn't bother him at all. He had a few good scams on the go and he also had a burning ambition but he knew that while Brodie drew breath he would never be challenged by anyone on his turf. If you worked for anyone, you inadvertently worked for Brodie; that had been established many years before. Patrick had sewn up all the main money-spinners and people like him depended on Brodie's goodwill and largesse to carry out their business dealings smoothly. Brodie guaranteed licences and premises; without his say-so no one could work anything. It was a good arrangement in many ways because it meant that anyone could get a drinks licence or a gaming certificate; anything they needed really, no matter what their past form might be.

In other ways though, it was a bugbear; they had to keep on paying Brodie a hefty wedge for as long as they were trading. Spider had been one of the main protagonists where Palmer's brother's death had been concerned; if needs be he could still take umbrage at his brother's demise or he might choose to accept it gracefully. He would wait and see what the outcome of this kid's ideas were before he decided what his reaction was going to be. Like any astute businessman, Alan Palmer was always open to negotiation with anyone who had a good business plan and something to offer him.

He knew Kicky Williams was on his last legs in many respects and he also knew that, like the rest of his family, dead or alive, he had the intelligence of a drunken wombat. All that aside though, it didn't mean he wasn't capable of at least one act of derring-do.

'Are you trying to tell me that you are capable of taking out Patrick Brodie?' This was said with a mixture of laughter and seriousness that wasn't lost on Ricky. He was actually shocked at how quickly Alan Palmer had swallowed the bait.

'You know the position my family is in now, thanks to Brodie and that cunt Spider. If I could remove Brodie, would you be willing to settle with me and mine and let bygones be bygones?'

Alan knew that Patrick and Spider were probably going to wipe this man and his remaining brothers off the face of the earth; and so they should, the Williams brothers had been asking for it for a long time now. It was overdue, there was no doubt about that. But if, and it was a big if, this prat did the unthinkable then he would not be averse to taking over the reins so to speak.

He was well-respected and he was also in possession of a serious fortune; both of which would be mandatory if he was to step up a gear and take on the mantle of a serious firm. His pulse was quickening at the thought of it; he could take the whole place over with the minimum of fuss. There was no one to stop him and, after Brodie, he was the next best thing.

Old Jimmy Brick would soon see where his expertise would be best employed and he would make him an offer he wouldn't turn down. It would mean recruiting the rest of Brodie's workforce of course, but that would not be such a hardship. Patrick had always surrounded himself with the best and he had been champing at the bit for a long time.

'You're off your fucking tree, Ricky. If you say things like that to the wrong people you could find yourself in a lot of trouble. Patrick won't be impressed, I can tell you, and you ain't exactly flavour of the month with him, are you? Cain's death has fucked you lot once and for all. Patrick is one thing but Spider is a fucking handful and you think you could take them both out then?'

He was laughing, but Ricky knew what Alan was saying to him. He was willing to do whatever was necessary to keep the Williams family safe. Ricky knew he wasn't cute enough to run anything himself; he needed someone else to do that for him but if he took out Brodie and Spider then his rep would be secured and Alan Palmer and his cronies would see him and his brothers right. 'Watch this fucking space, Alan. You just watch.' Ricky was laughing loudly almost on the verge of hysteria, and Alan Palmer shook his head in disbelief, while making plans in case the mad bastard actually achieved his objective.

'He ain't going away, Lil, and that's that.'

The finality in her husband's voice depressed her, but she knew that nothing she said would change his mind. Lil was a realist and where her husband was concerned she was sensible enough to know that further arguing would be pointless.

'You leave him to me, all right? I will sort the fucker out in future.'

He had been as good as his word, she would give him that much. Lance had not left his room except to go to school since the day it had all blown up. Patrick had given him a stern talking-to and another good hiding to boot.

Lance was shrewd though; he was telling them all what they wanted to hear and, even though he looked contrite, she knew in her heart of hearts that he was anything but. It was just talk to him, it meant nothing. She had often secretly wondered over the years if he copied Patrick's behaviour and his emotional responses because he seemed genuine enough to everyone else, but she knew, somehow she just knew, it was all an act.

Sighing, she went back to making more sausage rolls for the birthday party that she wished she had never agreed to now. Everyone around was chipping in and helping her; making sandwiches, cakes, tarts and quiches. She was providing the ingredients of course but the way people had rallied around pleased her. Since Janie's visit she had taken on a new lease of life; she was back in the real world again and it felt good. Even with the baby dragging her down and Lance's aberration, she was feeling lighter somehow. Her mother's presence had always hung over the house like a shroud but now, though they spoke on the phone, her absence was like a breath of fresh air. People came round more, stayed longer and there was laughter and joking. Lil had forgotten how her mother managed to dampen everything with a few choice words. Now she was reminded of how different the house could be and even the stab of guilt she felt occasionally because she was relishing having the house and her children to herself wasn't enough for her to bring her mother back into the fold. She knew her mother would stay away until Lil told her otherwise. Patrick was blamed though the words were not said outright, just implied. Lance was confined to his room so she didn't have to deal with him too much either. Like her mother, he put a damper on everything. Somehow just his being in a room caused upset and, as bad as she felt about admitting it, she was still enjoying the holiday from the pair of them.

Janie arrived and they chatted together amiably as they made even more food. Covering the plates of sandwiches with tin foil they placed them on the worktops ready for Patrick Junior's birthday party.

The boy himself was watching the preparations with barely contained excitement. He was going to be ten and he felt the enormity of his party as if it was a living thing. His friends, schoolmates, family and neighbours would all be there. It was unlike any party he had enjoyed before. He not only had a disco but proper food, and adults were invited as well as children. It was a big responsibility he knew and he was nervous about it all. The drink his father had bought was sitting in the hallway in large cardboard boxes. There was alcohol for the grown-ups and every kind of soft drink imaginable for the children. Just looking at it all made his heart race.

Patrick Junior's only worry was Lance. His mother and father were adamant that he was not going to attend the party as part of his punishment. He knew they were doing the right thing but at the same time Lance was going to miss out on something that would be remembered for the rest of their lives. Patrick Junior knew that he would not enjoy the day as fully because Lance wasn't there. Lance was a pain and he had done something really wrong, really dangerous, but he was still his brother and he would like him at his party so that in years to come they could discuss it without any bad feeling. To Pat Junior the party was the biggest thing that had ever happened to him in his life and he wanted to share the excitement with Lance. He knew that the party would be the main topic of conversation for weeks to come at school and around abouts. Lance would feel it acutely if he couldn't join in and that worried Pat Junior. He didn't want to have to stop talking about it because his brother had missed out, even if it was his own fault. Lance managed to ruin everything without even trying.

Even though Pat Junior felt sorry for Lance, a small part of him was also relieved that he wouldn't be able to show off in front of everyone, and he couldn't denigrate it if he wasn't in attendance; he put down everything that pertained to his older brother. Patrick Junior still had enough heart to feel sorrow for his brother's plight though. He knew Lance was in bits over his father's decision to keep him in his room, and although Pat knew that his punishment was for his own good and that missing the event would make him think seriously about what he had done. Patrick Junior instinctively knew that as bad as Lance was, missing the party would cause more problems in the long run than it would ever solve.

Ricky Williams was nervous and his brothers were all worried about the next few days as well. Looking around the room at them, Ricky wondered how he was going to keep them in line once his plans were put into place.

Dave, Bernie and Tommy were quiet as he told them what he had done and what he was planning, and Ricky knew that they looked at him with a new respect. They now saw him as the man
he
knew he had always been. All he wanted now was the chance to show everyone in their circle of friends his acumen and his strength of purpose.

Ricky looked over the bar and caught the eye of a dark-haired girl in a frilly shirt and, motioning with his hands, ordered more lagers. As she walked to the bar with her hands full of dirty glasses he watched her intently. She wasn't a great beauty but she had a nice plump arse and he liked that in a woman. She was a bit battered round the edges and older than he had first thought, but she had a nice smile. A wide-open smile that made her look friendly and approachable. He decided he liked her enough to present her with his secret weapon at some point in the near future. Her wink as she poured the pints convinced him he was on to a winner and, as always, his quest for strange took precedence over everything else.

They were in a pub in Kent. Until they were once more welcome visitors in the Smoke they had decided that their best course of action was to lay low for a while. Especially since Cain's unfortunate little accident. Ricky decided that he liked Kent, the garden of England. He liked the skirt, the pubs and the way the locals left them to their own devices. In fact, he was so enamoured of the county that he decided there and then to buy a drum there at some point in the future.

It felt good to relax properly for once, to just sit in a pub without having to watch the door, observe who was already there and buy drinks for a crowd of people he didn't even like, if truth be told. The easiness of the regulars here told him that this was a straight pub, a real pub, where people really did come just for a few beers and a bit of a chat. Ricky had forgotten how good that could feel but he was also aware of how good it could feel to be in a pub and know you could give it the large without fear or favour and where people fell over one another to get you a drink. Where you chose the music and the clientele and where you proved to yourself that you were somebody, that you counted.

Not long now and that would be his life once again. As the woman brought over the lagers he gave her a blinding smile and a big tip. Ricky was a great believer in laying down the groundwork first, that way you always got the result you wanted; her ready smile told him he was already halfway into her drawers. Life, he decided, was good. And from tomorrow it could only get better.

Chapter Seventeen

Jimmy Brick had the hump but no one looking at him would have known that. He had his smiley face on today, on account of it being the kid's birthday party.

He knew, however, that even a kid's party could turn pear-shaped in their world; alcoholic beverages and short tempers were often enough to start a world war.

His niece's christening, for example, had led to a murder and a life sentence for his brother-in-law, who had not been invited due to his habit of clumping her one when the fancy took him. He had been outed from the drum they had once shared by himself and a few others, and had taken it in pretty good part. Until Ursula, his sister, had kissed her new bloke in the back garden of the marital home; cue said brother-in-law scaling fence, the shooting, the screaming of the female relatives and the rest of the Sunday sitting in the Bill shop as they took statements.

No, Jimmy didn't trust even the most innocent of parties or the most innocent of guests. Everyone was capable of a tear-up given the correct set of circumstances; he was convinced of that much. He was determined to make sure that Pat Junior's party was fight free.

The hall looked fantastic, all banners and balloons. The food was weighing down the large trestle tables and the aroma was killing him. Egg and cress got to him every time and he swiped a few and munched them quickly. The bar was now set up and the DJ, an obvious moron, was ready to rock and roll. Jimmy supervised the placing of the tables and chairs, had a quick fag outside the church hall and then, finally, he relaxed. The kid was lucky to have a party like this at ten years old; he had not had anything even close to this for his twenty-first. He was a nice kid though, young Pat Junior. He was a sturdy little fucker and he looked like his old man. Was like the spit out of his mouth, as his mother used to say. The other one, that Lance, was a strange cove and no mistake. He was a head case and there was nothing wrong with that, but Patrick had made a point of keeping him away from the day's celebrations to teach him a lesson. Give him ten years though and he'd be a force to be reckoned with. Missing a party wouldn't be the highlight of his life's disappointments, he would lay money on that much. That Lance was a maniac waiting to blossom and, when he did, God help anyone who got in his way.