‘Of course I’m taking it bleedin’ personal,’ he protested. ‘Whatever the reason, Eddie was still Kel’s boyfriend.’

Petra gave a shrug. ‘It wouldn’t have lasted. Come on, you know what Eddie was like. He was hardly the faithful type; a girl couldn’t walk into a room without him giving her the eye. You didn’t even like the bloke.’

‘So what?’

‘So you’re planning on going to war over some guy you didn’t give a damn about. Where’s the sense in that?’

‘It’s the principle,’ Wayne said.

‘Well, it’s a shit principle.’ Petra knew there would only be one winner if the Gissings took on Terry Street – and it wouldn’t be Wayne and his cousins. It was over ten years since the murder of Joe Quinn, and Terry Street’s rise to the top had been meteoric. Within a few months of his former boss’s death, he’d taken over the firm and been running Kellston ever since. He was smarter than Joe, less brutal but just as ruthless. Although Terry didn’t go looking for trouble, he would never back down from it either.

‘That’s your opinion.’

‘You should have a word with your dad before you do anything.’ Petra didn’t say this out of any respect for Roy’s judgement – he didn’t have any – but purely as a delaying tactic. It would be another week before a visiting order became available and a lot could happen in seven days.

‘He’ll say the same as me.’

‘Maybe. Maybe not. But there’s no point in going off half-cock before you’ve got the whole picture. If Terry did organise this hit, then you can get the law to do your dirty work for you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, if someone was to tip them the wink about Sadie’s involvement with Nathan Stone, then she might finally get arrested. And as soon as that happens, she’s going to start trying to shift the blame on to Stone and Terry Street. She’ll be singing like a canary, no doubt about it. With a bit of luck they could all go down for a long stretch and you wouldn’t have to lift a finger.’

Wayne’s befuddled brain was clearly struggling to come to terms with the concept of a different kind of revenge. His mouth opened a little and his eyes narrowed into two tight slits. ‘If Terry Street wasted Eddie, I’ll deal with him myself.’

Petra raised her own eyes to the ceiling. ‘And then you’ll be the one doing the stretch. Is that what you want? Maybe you and your dad can bunk up together. That’ll be nice, a real family reunion.’ She knew it was all to do with male pride, with machismo and respect – but none of those things meant anything to her. ‘What’s wrong with doing it the smart way for a change?’

‘You saying I’m stupid?’

‘I’m saying there’s more than one way to skin a cat.’ Petra was aware that all the Gissing men were the same; subtlety wasn’t their strong point. Respect was everything and they tried to earn it with their fists. However, violence could only take you so far in this world; if you really wanted to succeed you needed guile and a little bit of finesse. ‘Just think about it,’ she urged, not wanting to find herself in the middle of a war with Terry Street’s firm.

‘Think about what?’ asked Sharon, suddenly appearing in the kitchen.

Petra glared at her. The younger woman was still in her dressing gown, a pale pink silky wrap hanging open at the front to show a good deal of cleavage. ‘None of your business.’

‘Still here then?’ she snarled at Petra.

‘Where else would I be?’

‘Back in your own bleedin’ house where you belong.’ Sharon pushed past her, switched the kettle on and then, aware of the silence, turned, folded her arms across her ample chest and said, ‘Don’t stop on my account.’

‘We were just talking about Eddie,’ Wayne said.

Sharon gave a sigh. ‘Yeah, poor bloke. It’s a right shame. I liked him. He was a good laugh.’

Petra threw Wayne a dirty look – why couldn’t he take her side for once? – but he didn’t bat an eyelid. He didn’t even notice. Despite the hangover, his gaze was firmly fixed on Sharon’s tits. She felt her stomach shift with revulsion; there was something disgusting about watching her son lech over the woman who’d replaced her. ‘Ain’t you got stuff to do?’ she said to him.

‘Like what?’

‘Like finding out what else Pym might know.’

‘He don’t know nothin’ else.’

‘You sure about that?’

‘He’d have said.’

‘That little creep always knows more than he lets on. You should have another word.’

The kettle boiled and Sharon looked at Wayne. ‘Fancy a brew, babe?’ she asked, deliberately ignoring Petra.

‘I wouldn’t say no. Ta.’

Sharon gave Petra a triumphant smile as she reached for the mugs.

Petra’s gaze fell on the knife that she’d been using to chop the carrots. For a few brief seconds she thought it would be almost worth doing the time just to wipe the smug smile off the bitch’s face. She took a few deep breaths before moving away from the counter and heading for the door. ‘See you later.’

‘Where are you going?’ Wayne asked.

‘Out.’

‘Out where?’

But Petra didn’t bother to answer. In the hall, as she put on her coat and scarf, she could still hear them talking.

‘So what’s going on with that Sadie?’

‘Fuck knows,’ Wayne said. ‘But I’ll tell you something, if I could have five minutes with the murderous cow I’d get the truth out of her.’

‘So why don’t you?’

‘Because I don’t know where she lives.’

‘You can find that out easy enough.’

‘You reckon?’ Wayne asked.

‘Sure. I bet Eddie’s parents have an address. Why don’t you ask Kel to get it for you?’

Petra pursed her lips. She knew the kind of damage her son could inflict in five minutes. What was the stupid bitch playing at? Did she want to see Wayne behind bars? Jesus, the slut was only making things worse.

Petra opened the front door and slammed it closed behind her. There was a phone box round the corner. If no one else was going to ring the filth, she would. She’d muffle her voice with the scarf and give them the lowdown on Sadie Wise and Nathan Stone. With any luck, they’d get to her before Wayne did.

22

Sadie didn’t normally go to church with Joel on a Sunday but this morning she had considered it, wondering if she should, if it was the right and proper thing to do after Eddie’s death. Shouldn’t she go and say a prayer or something? And yet it felt kind of hypocritical, bearing in mind that she rarely went near the place. She wasn’t even sure if she believed in God, even though – like most people – she was prone to ask for his help in times of trouble. And Eddie had never been religious. If heaven did exist, he’d have to use all his charm to get through those pearly gates.

In the end, she had decided to walk down to the front instead. Now she stood watching, her hands deep in her pockets, as the grey angry waves lashed against the shore. She thought about the man she’d married all those years ago, of the fun they’d had before it all turned sour. If felt like another age, another lifetime. She tried to conjure up the love she’d once felt for him, but all that remained was a thin kind of sadness.

As the cold wind whipped around her, Sadie toyed – not for the first time – with the idea of ringing Eddie’s parents. She felt that she ought to, but wasn’t sure if they’d welcome the call. Since her separation from their son, they hadn’t been on the best of terms. That, however, wasn’t the only reason she’d been putting it off; she was worried that they might suspect her of murder, that in looking for someone to blame their fingers would point in her direction. And what could she do about that? Swear that she was innocent, that she’d had nothing to do with it? That could make her appear even guiltier.