Lena had sat it out for years, and now her husband was all hers. It was a hollow victory, she admitted, but a victory all the same. For Jackie, leaving Freddie was not an option and she knew that, but she still dreamed that one day her daughter would get what she wanted from her husband. From what she had heard, though, he was still pole-vaulting with anything in a short skirt. As her husband had remarked so often about his son-in-law, no change there then. And as her husband and Freddie Jackson were like two peas in a pod, she also knew that he was speaking from experience.

Maggie was smiling her usual sunny smile as she washed hair and made endless cups of tea. Her job as a trainee hairdresser was everything she had wanted and more, and her life revolved around Jimmy, work, Dallas and her family.

The fashions suited her, the glamorous looks were made for her wide-spaced eyes and thick blond hair, and as such she made a striking contribution to the salon where she worked. Even with the thick make-up she still looked young and fresh, and that was her attraction.

Her dear little face and happy-go-lucky charm worked wonders with the clientele and she made a fortune in tips. The owner of the salon, a tall woman with high hair and a pseudo French accent knew a find when she had one, and treated Maggie with the right amount of respect and caring.

This little girl was a quick learner, a kind-hearted and available listener, and did not see anything to do with the hairdressing or the salon beneath her. Madame loved her, and so did anyone who came into her orbit. All the other young girls she had trained up had smiled and worked and waited until they could go on the trot – a hairdresser's in Bethnal Green was not their idea of sophistication. Maggie was grateful to be there, and it showed in everything she did. Most of the week it was perms, older women who had had the same styles since the fifties. They had their hair done once a week, it was lacquered so much it would not have moved in a hurricane, and they gossiped and laughed as they drank tea. Three days later they came back for a 'combout'. And Maggie did these with her usual smile.

But it was the Friday nights and the Saturdays when Maggie came into her own. The new styles were second nature to her, and she managed to make the girls feel at ease in the old-fashioned salon. She played her own music on the record player: Simply Red. 'Holding Back The Years' and 'Money's Too Tight To Mention' always went down well, and she also made sure they had Thunderbird wine to drink. The place was buzzing, and Madame enjoyed having the youngsters back again. Maggie had done the business a big service just by being there. She was dreading the day she walked away like all the others. Maggie Summers was a grafter, and coming as she did from a family of wasters, that, in itself, was a touch. She also sensed that Maggie was not going to follow in their footsteps. This girl would go places, or die in the attempt. Only sixteen and already she knew what she wanted from life.

Maggie for her part thought Madame Modèle was the greatest thing to hit the earth and was determined to emulate her. She saw the way Madame was with the customers, and she instinctively understood that was the secret of good business. Even the lowliest of women were made to feel special in Madame Modèle's and Maggie loved her for that alone.

As she washed an elderly woman's hair she imagined the day when she would have a salon of her own and a bevy of pretty young women working underneath her all dressed in mint-green overalls and with their hair in French pleats. That had always been her dream, and like everything else she did, she threw herself into it wholeheartedly.

Maggie, unlike the rest of her family, was a person who thought of a goal and then moved heaven and earth to achieve it, and with Jimmy behind her she knew what she wanted was getting closer and closer by the day. He was already earning fortunes, and he was only twenty-one, it seemed that life was determined to give them both a break. Unlike her sister, she had no problem with her man working at the houses because she knew she could trust him. Unlike Freddie, her Jimmy didn't need strange at every opportunity and she could tell by the way he talked about the brasses that he had no interest in them. He saw them purely as a means to an end – at least she hoped he did.

She pushed the thoughts from her head.

Thanks to Ozzy they were set, and she knew that Jimmy and Freddie were going to be in work for many years to come. Already she and Jimmy had substantial savings, and even though most of it could not be put in the bank, they were now in a position to buy a small house.

Maggie was so happy she felt like she could sing from the rooftops. All she prayed for now was that her sister's baby was the boy she so desperately craved, then everything would be fine. She was already blow-drying and doing basic cutting. Before she knew it she would be the 'free' hairdresser to her family, but even that couldn't dampen her happy spirits today. Nothing could.

Life was getting better and better and soon she and Jimmy would be married and she would be able to relax. They were getting engaged in a few months and the wedding would be six months later. Even though she would only just be hitting seventeen, she knew there would be no opposition from the families. In fact, they were all looking forward to it. Everyone agreed that Maggie and Jimmy were a match made in heaven.

It was early evening and Freddie and Jimmy were in the office of the main house. It had become their hang-out, and it was all because of Freddie and his pursuit of strange. The house was situated in Ilford and was a large, spacious Victorian house that held a variety of women and a variety of drugs.

Freddie, unlike his younger counterpart, had embraced the emerging drug culture with both hands. Where Jimmy was content to maybe have a few joints when the night was over, Freddie was unable to let the night end. Never knew when enough was enough, never wanted to go home unless he had to.

He was snorting as much amphetamine as he could lay his hands on and as he was now dealing in large quantities that was a lot of speed. He also dropped blue ones, Dexies and Tenuate Dospan, slimming pills that added to his paranoia and often to his unpredictable temper.

As they sipped at cheap vodka and chatted about Ozzy's plans, Jimmy could see the tell-tale signs of a mounting rage coming from Freddie. His hands were shaking and his eyes were unfocused, he also had the sweats that heralded an amphetamine rush.

In short he was wired.

'You all right, Freddie?' This was said nonchalantly but carefully so as not to upset the large, overbearing man who was so obviously looking for trouble.

Freddie stared at him for long seconds. Jimmy could see him practically talking himself out of the fury he wanted so badly to unleash. It was like watching a boxer who had a hammer instead of a boxing glove. He knew he shouldn't use it but the temptation was too strong.

'You and Ozzy seem tight these days.'

Jimmy sighed inwardly. This was becoming a recurring theme and in a way he could understand the logic behind it. Freddie was the number one, and he had trouble sitting around waiting for Jimmy to relay everything.

His visits to Ozzy had become a bone of contention between them. But as Jimmy had never had even a parking ticket or a caution, he was the only person who could visit the unit in relative peace.

To visit A cat or double A cat prisoners you had to go through a rigorous and unnecessary police check. This entailed having passport photos taken, filling in a form to make sure you were who you said you were and resided where you said you resided, and finally having a bored PC come to your home to verify you looked like the person on the photograph.