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Chapter Twenty-Four

'All right, Mum, let's sort this out, shall we?'

Patrick's voice was so reminiscent of his father's that it made Lil go cold. They were in the office of the club once more; it was different now, all fresh paint and cheap furniture. The club was the blind for the other businesses, as always.

But it was once again Lil's domain and she knew it. She enjoyed the way she was now, back on top; it was like years ago, when this had been her world. Lenny Brewster had snatched it away from her, taken everything that she had that made her feel a part of something bigger than her. And now she had it back; her life back, her self-respect back and, most of all, she was once more working at something she loved.

It might be a small victory to most people, but to Lil, after the years with Lenny, it was equivalent to the Pulitzer Prize.

Lil knew that the girls understood how she felt; in fact they were happy for her, most of them anyway. That is, the ones who had bothered to get to know her and understood Lil's craving for some kind of recognition, and for her need to be a part of the world she inhabited and that she loved.

'Sort what out?'

Lil was smiling at Pat innocently and she saw herself in his eyes and in his anger, not his father. Pat had her short temper and her ability to keep it in check if it was necessary. He was a clever boy, no doubt about that, and she loved him with all her heart. But he was also her son and her business partner, whether he liked it or not. She was the one he had left to put things back on track again. She would be the one who made the money that would give them their way of life. The taxman could climb all over this place and find nothing that would be cause for concern. She was the straight one out of them and he respected that; he knew she would never tuck her son up. You could only ever trust your own, most of the time anyway.

Patrick grinned and his white teeth made him look even more handsome than usual. He had dark Irish looks; his eyes were the giveaway, deep blue, framed with thick lashes that a woman would fight to make her own. He had the square-cut jaw and thick black hair that seemed to have a life of its own. Pat also had the appetite for the drink and that bothered Lil, as did his disregard for anything he felt as beneath his interest. That had been his father's downfall, not that anyone else would see that of course. Pat should have kept his own house in order, fuck everyone else's. If he had sorted the Williams brothers he would still be here now, and Spider knew that as well as she did.

'Are you pregnant, Mum?'

Lil stared into Pat's handsome face and suppressed the urge to slap his name out of the phone book. How dare the cheeky little fucker ask her that?

'Well, are you?' He was talking slowly now, as if she was stupid, as if she didn't understand what he was asking her.

'What has that got to do with you?' It was said with all the indifference she could muster and with all the bravado she possessed.

Pat sighed. 'So it's true, then?'

Lil had been dreading this, but she was still surprised that Pat had noticed so quickly. He had girls, but no one ever lasted more than a few days, so he had not even lived through a girlfriend's or a wife's pregnancy. He was so cute, he had noticed hers. One part of her wanted to cry because of that, but she wouldn't, of course. Lil didn't know what to say to him. She felt guilty, as if she had done something wrong, and that was because she felt she had. It wasn't him, it was her. Once more, she was giving birth and once more she was having a child that would ultimately become this boy's responsibility, like the others had. But she could no more dispose of this baby than she could have disposed of any of the others. It was the eighties and there was no longer any stigma for women who had children without the benefit of a wedding ring.

'I am a grown woman and if I want to have a baby, I'll have one. You are not my keeper, Patrick. You are my son and you have no right to question me about anything.'

Pat Junior looked into the eyes of the woman he loved more than he had ever loved anyone in his life and he shook his head in distress at her words. The anger she was displaying and the secrecy, the fact she was trying to conceal her condition from him and the other kids, hurt him. He didn't care what she did, why couldn't she see that? He loved her no matter what. This was the woman who had cared for him, loved him, visited him in prison and tried to fight his end all those years ago when his father had been murdered. This woman had given birth to two more children with Lenny Brewster because she had believed that they would give her and her kids some kind of security, because she had thought he would take care of her; thus enabling her to take care of them.

She had even sold herself for him and his brothers and sisters; why couldn't she see that all she had done had made him love her more, not less. Had made him look up to her, not down on her.

Pat walked over to her and, pulling her into his arms, he said sadly, 'Oh, Mum, I just want to help you, darling, that's all. You can do what you like, I ain't going to judge you, am I? None of us would. I just don't want you coping on your own any more. You don't have to. I am here now and I will do whatever is needed, OK?'

Lil hugged him and felt the strength of him as he held her close and she knew he meant every word he said to her.

'Whose is it, Mum?'

She could hear the nervousness in his voice and realised that he thought she was pregnant by Lenny again. He couldn't even say his name out loud. It would be laughable if it wasn't so tragic. As if she would be that stupid! And yet once more she was reminded of how she was seen by her children. That this boy, her eldest son, could think that she would even consider sleeping with Lenny again after what he had done to them all was so insulting that she had to fight the urge to smack his face. She wanted to tear at his skin with her nails and make him hurt as he was making her hurt.

Did they really think she was so low, so base that she had been capable of coupling with Lenny again after everything he had done to her, to them?

She roughly pushed Pat away. Her anger was in check, but for how long, she couldn't say.

'You can't think this is Lenny's, surely?'

Lil's voice was low and colder than Pat had ever heard it before. He knew she had picked up on what had been in the back of his mind. He didn't answer her and it was his silence that told her all she needed to know.

'I would never ever have given him the time of day. How can you think that I would have been capable of something like that?'

Pat didn't know how to react to her, didn't know how to make things right. He knew he had been well off the mark. But he had had to ask her. Especially considering the events of the last few days.

'No one has said that, Mum. And I don't care what you've done…'

Lil sat back on the big leather chair that told anyone who came in that the occupier of that chair was the boss. That chair said that she was the boss of everyone and everything around her.

'Done? What I've done? It was that word that hurt more than anything. It was like an assumption of her guilt or her stupidity. It made her feel responsible for something and she wasn't sure what.

'You cheeky little fucker, how dare you talk to me like that…'

Pat didn't speak; he knew she had to get it off her chest. He knew he had said the wrong thing and he understood her anger.

'I did what I could all my life to make things better for us. To make sure you and the others had some kind of fucking life outside of what was said about us, what was assumed about us, after your father's murder. I had to live through it and protect you lot into the bargain. Your father didn't even see us all right for a few bob, did you know that? We were left with nothing. It was like we never existed for him or anyone else, come to that, after he died. Do you realise that we could have been taken out? If the Williams brothers had decided to finish us off, that would have been it. I had to fucking make sure we were safe and that meant Lenny. He took them out, for his own reasons, I admit, but he took them out all the same. We were seconds away from death, boy. Your father made no provision for us, fuck all. And now you have the fucking cheek to look down on me, to judge me. And you expect me to swallow an insult like that without attempting to dispute it in any way?'

'Look, Mum, I just want to help you, that's all. I don't give a fuck who the father is…'

'Well you should and you should also have enough respect for me to ask me straight out and not fucking insinuate. That you could even contemplate that.'

Patrick watched his mother's anger and hurt and knew that he could not do anything to stem the flow of her unhappiness. So he said what was on his mind and hoped that she would understand his worry about her and his annoyance at her silence over her predicament. He was shouting at her and that was something he had not planned on doing. He just wanted answers and he was going to get them from her. No matter what it took.

'Well, who is the culprit then, Mum? You tell me because I can't fucking put the finger on anyone. I just want to know the score, that's all. You are me mother and I feel a certain responsibility towards you, to all of you. I feel the need to take care of you because whoever the fucking bloke is, he ain't beating a path to your front door, is he? No one has seen you out with a geezer and there ain't even any gossip in this dump. So unless you enlighten us, how the fuck are we supposed to know anything? Were you going to wait until it was born or what?'

Lil didn't answer him. She just stared at him with those big eyes of hers and the guilt he felt was once more in the forefront of Pat's mind.

'Look. I didn't mean any of that. You can do what the fuck you like, you're me mum. But you have to let me know what's going on. I want to help, that's all. I want to make it easier for you. If the bloke needs a fucking talking-to then that is what he will get, believe me, Mother.'

Lil's anger was gone and she could understand what was wrong with him. But how could she explain that she had been too embarrassed to tell them what had happened to her, that she was pregnant again at her age. Why was she always the one who was caught out? Even with them all grown up she was still stupid enough to get caught and, once more, it was by a man who had no interest in her really. Though in fairness to Jambo, he was willing to do as she asked. But that was only because of her sons; she assumed that was why, anyway. But they didn't need to know any of that, of course. Lance, whatever she thought of him, was always her biggest champion. Not that it made her feel anything towards him but she knew that anyone who said a word against her was dicing with death. Patrick, however, was more like her than he realised. He understood on some level that she was still a relatively young woman and she needed not just the sex, but the holding part. The aftermath, when she lay beside someone and pretended, just for a few minutes, that someone cared for her and was looking after her for once and not vice versa.

'I was sixteen when you were born, Patrick. Can you imagine that? I had five kids so fast I didn't even have time to realise how hard it was.'

She laughed gently. 'Then the other two, who I love more than anything. They were once more given to me, by a man who didn't really care about the consequences of his actions. He gave me two kids and it meant nothing to him. And now you have killed him.' She laughed huskily at the incongruousness of her conversation, of the whole situation.

'All my children are fatherless and both fathers were murdered. Can't you see the irony in that? One day the youngsters are going to want to know what happened and they still won't give a fucking toss. Do you know how that makes me feel? Do you? All my life people have taken from me, taken whatever they wanted, you included. All you kids did and that's because that is what kids do. Kids just take.'

Lil lit a cigarette and tried to relax herself enough to give this son of hers at least a modicum of peace of mind. To make what had happened to them at least mean something to him and to her as well, if she was honest.

'Now this baby wasn't planned, Pat. Its father was someone I wanted, someone who wanted me. No love story or big drama to report, just two people finding a little bit of happiness together. And now I am pregnant again and, being a Catholic, having the child and doing the best I can, once more, is the only solution for me. Just like I did with all of you and, be fair, I never had it easy, did I? I'm not saying this so that you will pity me. I am just stating facts, that's all. But I did the best I could.'

Patrick shook his head, this time with exasperation. Lil could see the way he cared for her and she knew how lucky she was with them all, except Lance, but she didn't count him as hers. She saw him as her mother's.

'Oh, Mum. I have been so worried about you, that's all. I want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy.'

'I don't want any trouble when the time comes. I will tell you everything, well almost everything, but don't hurt him or threaten him, none of you. I was just me when I was with him. Just Lil Diamond, not Patrick Brodie's wife or Lenny Brewster's bird or someone's mum. I was just me for once.'

She smiled gently then. Her relief that the secret was out made her look almost girlish once more, wiping the lines of fear and worry away with each word she spoke.

'One last thing, son.'

'What, Mum?'

Lil stared at him for long moments and he knew she was worried that he was going to lose any respect for her that he had. He waited for her to speak in case he said the wrong thing again. He knew that once he found out the culprit, he would sort the fucker out big time. In private and with a weapon, if needs be.

'What are you trying to tell me, Mum?'

'It's black, Patrick.'

Lance was collecting a debt that had been owed for many years. It was a big debt, fifteen grand. Patrick had bought it for two thousand but only because the person who had borrowed the money in the first place had exhausted every avenue trying to get it repaid. It was now a debt for seventeen thousand as it was not just the original debt that needed to be paid in full but also the money weighed out to purchase the debt in the first place. This was a good debt in more ways than one. It was a cheap debt to buy and so guaranteed a good return and it was also owed by a north London Face who needed to be brought down a peg or two.

Lance wanted to prove himself. He felt the need to show his brother that he could do things on his own and use his initiative and, more importantly, he didn't want Patrick having any dealings with Donny Barker unless he was present.

Lance knew his absence when Lenny was being outed was being whispered about; the gossip even said that he had been severely reprimanded. His absence had raised more than a few eyebrows, he knew. Kathleen and her problems were not really common knowledge; he knew that because he had made sure of it.

But there was still some talk about her though Lance always made sure the talkers realised their mistake. But Lance knew that he was not seen in the same light as his brother. He was determined to change that, he was determined to give his image a boost. He was going to make people respect him as they respected Patrick.

His brother had been lucky in so many ways; as the eldest, he had possessed the edge from birth. Their mother had always treated him with love whereas she had never once treated him with anything that even resembled love. Lance was convinced that everyone knew that she didn't care for him and that it was all pretend, that even now, she wouldn't speak directly to him if she could avoid it.

Lance loved Kathleen with the love he should have given to his mother if his mother had let him. Like him, Kathleen made his mother feel insecure, made her feel she had somehow fucked up, which of course she had. She thought she could pick and choose the children she wanted. Well, she couldn't.

His mother was the reason for everything bad that had happened to them all and she couldn't even admit it. So she dumped the blame on him and poor Kathleen. She was pregnant again; she produced children like other women shelled peas and with no shame or care for any of them, really. Another bastard would be produced by her and no one would be any the wiser as to who the father was. She didn't tell them anything, she didn't see it as any of their business. The girls, even his Kathleen, were all excited about it and acted like it was going to be some kind of joyous event. Yet not one of them had had the guts to mention it to her until she decided to tell them. Patrick wasn't even annoyed. He just wanted to know who the culprit was and if she was OK. No real bother about the fact she was knocked up once more, that another child would be produced and, knowing her, neglected. Patrick was so like her, he really didn't give a toss what people thought or how people perceived them as a family.

Well, one day she would see what she had done to them all, he would make sure of that. Lance knew so much about all of them and he never said a word but that could change, of course. If the need to open up presented itself he would not feel bad about it at all. It would not be the first time he had spilled the beans and he had a feeling it would not be the last.

Donny Barker walked out of his safe house then. Lance slipped out from the car he had stolen earlier that night and, walking over the road nonchalantly, he beat the older man to his vehicle. Donny was alone, a rare occurrence in his world, but, having seen Lance, he didn't feel any kind of fear. In fact, he smiled in recognition. Anyone observing them would have assumed that they were old mates or at least business associates of some description. But if they saw the look that was on Lance's face then they would realise that he wasn't smiling at all. In fact, he actually looked like most people's worst nightmare.

Eileen and the three younger kids were watching TV as usual. It was Saturday evening and they were all curled up on the sofa watching the A-Team and laughing at their antics.

Shamus, Colleen and Christy were used to being left to their own devices when their mother was working. It was strange, but they had known from an early age that without her out grafting, their lives would be a lot harder.

Unlike the others, who had been lucky enough to have a father who had been there at least some of the time for them, the three youngest had never had that kind of security.

And now Colleen and Christopher's father was out of their orbit, once and for all, they didn't really feel anything about him at all. Lenny Brewster had not really been a part of their lives ever, so his death actually meant nothing to them. The rumours around and about were rife and they had heard a whisper now and again about him but, in actual fact, they were not bothered one way or the other. Eileen knew the score, she had already put two and two together for herself and, like her younger siblings, accepted it as part and parcel of their lives.

She still had the odd flashback to the night her father had been murdered; as young as she was, she still remembered some of it with stunning clarity. This was usually when she least expected it and usually when she really didn't need the reminder. Pat Junior had never celebrated a birthday since and it wasn't through want of trying either. Their mum had tried her hardest to make the day a celebration rather than the anniversary of their father's death. Now though, none of them bothered. Patrick really didn't want the reminder and, as they had all got older, neither did any of them. Though they had always tried to make an effort for young Shamus's birthday, despite it coming so quickly after.

Eileen glanced at the clock. She would give it five minutes and then start getting herself ready to go out for the evening. At nearly fifteen years old she knew she looked much older. She also knew that if she didn't get out of this house on a regular basis, her twin sister's madness would infect her as well. She would never refer to Kathleen as mad in any way out loud but in her head she could think what she liked and she did. Frequently.

Kathleen was still confined to her bed and she was not eating anything of substance. For that matter, she was not even attempting to talk to anyone about what was wrong with her. Eileen was her twin and yet Kathleen still didn't trust her enough to talk to her about anything that was going on with her.

Eileen saw Colleen and Christopher whispering to each other, much the same as she had with Kathleen when they were younger.

'What are you two whispering about?'

Colleen laughed nervously. 'Nothing much. We were just wondering if Lance was going to come home soon, that's all. Do you know when he'll be back?'

It was a fair question, Eileen knew. She knew they were both worried about Lance's return to the house.

She felt so sorry for him because everyone knew that their mum, the woman who had birthed them all, couldn't stand to be in the same room as him. It hurt him, she knew it did. She knew that it had to be the worst feeling in the world knowing that your own mother didn't care about you at all. Lance had known that for years and she had known about it since she could remember. Even these two had sussed that much out.

'Lance is a grown man and he will come home when it suits him.'

Eileen got up then and wandered from the room slowly. She was going out and the last thing she needed was anyone drawing attention to her; she was not silly, she knew that this family could blow up in a heartbeat.

Colleen and Christy waited until Eileen was out of earshot before they started laughing with Shamus. They knew where she was going and who she was going there with. It was strange that the other people in the house had no idea about her secret life.

But then again, she was fifteen in a few weeks and to them she was ancient and they knew that if they opened their mouths she would launch them into outer space without a second's thought.

Jimmy Brick and Spider were in a private club off the Caledonian Road. They were drinking Guinness and dancing warily around each other. Neither of them knew exactly how conversant the other one was with the current state of affairs. This was a very common dilemma for many people in the know.

Conversation could be very difficult because, unless you were partnered with someone, or you had been briefed about a certain person, you could not talk freely to them without the fear of exposing information that could cause potential havoc. Spider and Jimmy went back a long way and so the situation was even more delicate than usual. Jimmy had been off the scene for many years and this was seen as cause for concern by Spider. Jimmy, for his part, knew that Spider had his own little firm and a respected firm at that. He also knew that his old mucker was wary of him because of his prolonged absence. That was something he had not discussed with anyone, of course, and would not do so unless he felt the time was right.

So when Pat finally bowled in surrounded by his boys, young men like him who had done a bit of bird and were willing to work for someone their own age who was going places, they were overly pleased to see him.

Spider watched Pat as he said hello to the right people, shook hands or patted the appropriate backs, and marvelled once more at the boy's natural business acumen. Like his father he knew how to play the game. Only this young man had a hard edge to him that was apparent to anyone who had any dealings with him.

As he sat down, Pat looked tired but both the men could also see that he was more than able to hold his own if it should come to that at any point. His new guys, his new minders, settled themselves nonchalantly around the bar. Spider saw immediately that they were in key positions so that if anything were to happen, they would be available to protect him within seconds. He was impressed; unless you knew the score, no one would have even realised what was going on. This told him that the boy was more protected and far more on the ball than anyone actually realised.

'All right, guys. Sorry I'm late, it's been a heavy day.'

The two men didn't respond, they weren't expected to.

'Jimmy, I need you close; you must have guessed that was coming, mate?'

Jimmy smiled slightly but it was a smile that signified agreement as if he had indeed known what was going to happen all along.

Pat Junior smiled then and Spider saw the menace in him, the real menace, for the first time ever. He had known this boy from birth and now he watched him and he knew that he was a changed lad from the one he had seen grow up. This was a different man to the one who had come home from prison all smiles and group hugs. The man he had weighed out and whose own son had visited and seen all right.

Pat was now someone to be wary of, was someone who had no qualms about erasing the enemy, and the enemy, it seemed, was anyone who happened to disagree with him.

'I'm going to run everything as before. Brewster did a competent enough job but he did not bother to utilise all the different branches of the organisation.'

Pat looked at Jimmy again.

'You know that my father always had his finger on the pulse? Well, Lenny wouldn't let anyone in the firm get near to anyone else. Everything had to go through him and that's why it was so easy to take him out and buy up his so-called fucking workforce.'

He stared at Jimmy then and it took a few seconds before Jimmy Brick realised that he was being dismissed. That Pat had said his piece and wanted him out of the frame until he needed him once more.

Spider saw the look of shock on Jimmy Brick's face and knew his earlier reservations were not without foundation. He also knew that Patrick Brodie Junior was a hard little fucker and he had no fear of anyone or anything.

Jimmy walked away from the table without a word but this was not something he was ever going to forget about. He was humiliated and he looked it.

Spider smiled at Pat and he smiled back at him with eyes that seemed to look through him as if he were a pane of glass.

Spider knew exactly what Pat wanted and he also knew that he was going to give it to him. This boy had the one thing going for him that everyone in their world dreamed of having; a self-belief that was as intimidating to the people around him as it was natural to the man himself. He saw the new crew with him and knew they were all young and up-and-coming. He knew that Patrick was the new kid on their particular block. He had made good friends in nick and he had utilised them with the precision of an army general.

This was a dangerous man, and the fact that he himself had not noticed just how dangerous he was, until now, bothered him more than he would care to admit.

His son, Mac, was as close to Pat as any brother could be, and Spider wondered if his boy understood just how precarious and how dangerous this young man's friendship could turn out to be.

Lil was doing what she had been asked to do by her son and, even though it wasn't hard work or even difficult work, she knew it was important work. For her son it was important and he needed someone he could trust with his life to do it. She was going through everything Lenny had used in his quest for world domination and she had to admit that, like her husband, he had no idea how to guarantee any of his main businesses. He had put them all into the hands of friends; a shrewd move in some ways but not in others. For example, none of them seemed conversant with how to make money from a club and that was easier than conning Social Security. It was a cash business, for fuck's sake, how could you not profit from that? And, also, as she knew to her detriment, if the person died the so-called mates who owned the premises on paper often developed a terrible case of amnesia. After all, they owned everything fair and square, didn't they? She should know, it had happened to her.

Lil was making notes on who to aim out the door and who she was going to put in their place. She had a natural head for business; even her husband had admitted that. But she had been born in the wrong era; women were not supposed to be earners and listened to or respected. Patrick, who trusted her judgement, had still not seen fit to give her the fucking time of day. She knew she should let it go, leave the past where it was, in the past. But, somehow, she never seemed able to forget about it.

She concentrated on the paperwork once more and, as always when her brain was occupied, she relaxed. She worked out what was what and unravelled Lenny's complicated system, a system that was so easy a child could have done it. She felt the rush again, the rush that was caused by sheer hard work and pregnancy. The club was quiet for the moment; early evening in Soho was not profitable for the hostesses and so she didn't expect them in. Any that did arrive early she would assume were hiding out from either pimps or dealers; often both. That or they were trying to earn money as quickly as possible to pay off said pimps or dealers. They were fools and she knew they would not realise that until it was far too late to do anything about it.

The life she led was not to everyone's taste, she knew, but her almost encyclopaedic knowledge of the hostess clubs and their different earning potentials was something her son saw as an asset to him. She had started this club and she had worked this club, from both sides of the fence, and now she was determined to make it a really big earner.

As the clock struck seven-thirty she heard the door of her office open and when she saw Ivana creep into the room she wanted to scream. The girl was always trying to get her attention and she irritated her beyond measure.

'What can I do for you, Ivana?' She tried to make her voice light and friendly; after all, the girl earned them a small fortune in her own way.

'Can I ask you something in private, Lil?'

Lil nodded her head quickly, the urge to get rid of the girl all important now.

'Course. What is it?'

She expected the usual hostess crap: how they were going to leave for another club because they'd been offered more money and that they would take their regulars etc. It was a common theme with hostesses. She also knew that a few of the girls met some of the men outside the club and she accepted and understood them doing that. Not that she would ever say that out loud, of course. The girls were not fools; if they met the man outside, he paid less for his case and was quids in and the girls got more than usual for going case in the first place. As long as it wasn't too often and no one took the piss, Lil was quite willing to turn a blind eye. The weekend warriors were the ones who would suggest that to the girls and she wanted them out of the club anyway. Freeing up the table for moneyed punters was more important to her than the girl taking a quick one.

Ivana was still not talking and Lil was getting even more impatient with her than she did usually.

'Ivana, love, any chance you can descend to planet earth?'

The girl was definitely nervous and Lil wondered what she had done now. Lots of the girls found themselves in outrageous situations; that was the nature of the beast. Once they left the premises and went case they were at their most vulnerable. Most girls used a short-time hotel in Shaftesbury Avenue. It was only a few minutes' walk but they cabbed it because there was no law about soliciting on private property and, as long as they didn't hit the pavement with their punter, they were safe as houses from Old Bill. Once inside the hotel though it was a different thing altogether. The man could turn nasty, refuse to pay any extras and she had even seen working girls who had been robbed at knifepoint, gang-raped or just battered for no other reason than that they were there. It was a dangerous game all right. So, as Lil steeled herself for Ivana's little speech, when the girl finally plucked up the courage to talk, she was not expecting what she actually heard her say. For a few moments she thought she had to be imagining it.

'What did you say?'

Ivana licked her lips in an anxious manner and Lil was once more reminded of just how beautiful the girl was.

'Well, talk to me then, I ain't got all bloody day.'

Ivana took a deep breath and then she repeated in a careful and controlled voice, 'There is a dead body in the basement.'

Lil sighed heavily.

Of course there was, why wasn't she surprised?

'Are you sure, Ivana?' She was convinced this one was a druggie; she knew she liked a drink.

'Of course I'm sure. I went down there to see if Patrick was about, you know.'

Lil nodded. All the girls were after him; for more reasons than his boyish good looks.

'And I saw it, a dead person. I shut the door and then came straight up here. But Lil, someone else could go down there, you know. It needs to be locked or something.'

Lil looked at the girl with new eyes. She wasn't even trying to score Brownie points, she was genuinely worried that someone might discover it and cause aggro.

Lil nodded and then she said nonchalantly, 'Did you recognise them?'

Ivana shook her head vigorously. 'No. It's some black bloke.'

She saw Lil's skin blanch and she rushed to her. Lil could hear genuine concern in her voice.

'You OK, Lil?'

She sat back in the chair and forced herself to smile gently.

'Well, Ivana, thank you for bringing that to my attention.'

Ivana looked into her eyes and Lil saw herself as a girl and she knew then that was why she irritated her.

Took, Lil, I ain't told no one and I ain't going to, but don't treat me like a mug. I came up here to stop anything happening.'

Lil nodded and Ivana saw the tiredness and the worry that was ingrained in this woman's face. She'd always wondered why Lil Brodie disliked her so much when she saw Lil Brodie as a role model.

'I know, love. I'll see you get something for this, OK?'

'I don't want anything, Lil. I just want to keep my job here. I like it. It suits me.'

Lil was still feeling faint but managed to say jovially, 'Course it does, darling. You're still brand new.'