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else has been up to see you, apart from Joey?’ Ed asked, changing the subject again.

      ‘Kerry’s coming up next week. I haven’t seen her since that day I was last in court.’

      Remembering that he’d promised himself what he would tell Frankie, Eddie began to fidget in his seat. Telling his daughter the news of his impending fatherhood was not something he relished, but it had to come from him. ‘There’s something else I need to tell you. It’s about me and I know you ain’t gonna like it.’

      ‘I’ll have a guess, shall I? You’re getting married,’ Frankie said sarcastically.

      ‘Well, yeah, but not yet. Gina’s pregnant,’ Ed said bluntly.

      With images of her poor mother flashing through her mind, Frankie stood up, walked towards a screw and asked to be taken back to her cell.

      ‘Frankie, what you doin’? Don’t be like this, babe,’ she heard her dad shout.

      Turning around, Frankie glared at him. ‘You make me fucking sick!’ she screamed.

      Over in Orsett, Stanley and Pat the Pigeon had had a lovely day. Firstly, they’d had lunch in the Halfway House and then, on Pat’s insistence, they’d popped into the Orsett Cock pub, where the pigeon club congregated.

      ‘Don’t you worry about bumping into that bloody turncoat, Jock. He’s the one in the wrong, not you,’ Pat had maintained.

      Although still fuming over Jock’s betrayal, Stanley wasn’t one for confrontation and had been relieved that Jock wasn’t in the pub when they’d arrived.

      About to take a sip of his pint, Stanley nearly choked as Pat muttered the words he’d been dreading hearing. ‘Here he is, just walked in, the bloody Judas. I feel like giving him a piece of my mind, Stanley, I really do.’

      Stanley looked up, locked eyes with his once best friend, scowled and looked away. ‘Don’t bother saying ought to him, Pat. He ain’t bleedin’ worth it, love.’

      Under no illusion that Stanley was anything other than still mad at him, Jock walked over to the bar where Brian and Derek were standing.

      ‘What’s happened between you and Stanley? I asked him where you were earlier and he nearly bit my head off,’ Derek asked.

      ‘It’s a long story, but I’ve had Joycie on the phone, worried sick about him. Stanley’s left her and she was going to call the police and report him missing.’

      Brian started to laugh. ‘He’s all right, is our Stanley. He’s moved in with Pat, she was telling me earlier. I bet they’ve been at it like rabbits.’

      Jock glanced at Stanley and Pat in horror. How was he meant to tell Joyce this piece of news? She would blow a fuse.

      Unlike Frankie, who was currently sailing through her latest pregnancy, Sally Baldwin was indoors, crippled up with stomach pains. The stress of splitting up with Jed was taking its toll and the constant threats he kept making weren’t helping matters either. He’d been ringing her all day and at first he’d been quite pleasant.

      ‘Please come back. I didn’t mean to talk to you like I did. I’m such a dinlo and I really miss you,’ he’d begged.

      Sally’s father had then grabbed the phone and had given Jed a right mouthful. Terry Baldwin was sick of seeing his daughter upset and was at the end of his tether.

      ‘If you ever come near my Sally again, I swear I will fucking kill you,’ he’d warned Jed.

      Jed, being Jed, hadn’t taken any notice of the warning and had since left tons of threatening messages on the landline answerphone, the last being, ‘If you ain’t fucking back ’ere in one hour, Sally, I’m gonna come round there and cut your shitcunt of a father to shreds.’

      Sally winced as her father entered the room and put a cup of coffee down next to her. The pains were griping and she was desperate to go to the toilet.

      ‘How do you feel now?’ Terry asked, concerned. Sally was as white as a sheet and he wondered if he should call an ambulance.

      ‘I’m OK, but I must go a loo,’ Sally replied, as she half staggered from the room.

      Seconds later, Terry heard an almighty scream.

      ‘Dad, there’s blood everywhere, I think I’m losing the baby,’ Sally cried.

      Not one to drink too much when he had to drive from Orsett back to Barking, Jock had four pints and set off home. He felt sick with worry about Stanley’s unusual behaviour. Not only had his old pal looked very drunk, but he and that Pat had looked far more than just friends, and Jock didn’t have a clue what he was now going to say to Joyce.

      Within seconds of walking indoors, Jock heard his phone ringing. He glanced at the clock. It was 4 p.m. and his daughter usually rang him at this time most days. He picked up the phone and was horrified to hear Joyce on the other end.

      ‘Well, did you find the old bastard?’

      ‘Aye, but I didn’t speak to him, Joycie. He’s still really angry with me, I could see it in his face.’

      ‘So, where is he then? Where did you see him?’

      Aware of how irate Joyce sounded, Jock chose his words carefully. He didn’t want to get his old mate into too much trouble, but if he didn’t give Joycie some information, she would be sure to call the police and find out Stanley’s whereabouts anyway.

      ‘He was in the Orsett Cock pub. He’s staying with a friend who lives up that way, I think.’

      ‘Friend! What friend? Apart from you, my Stanley has never had any bleedin’ friends. What’s the bloke’s name he’s stopping with?’

      ‘I’ve no idea,’ Jock replied untruthfully.

      Joyce instinctively knew that Jock was lying. Stanley had definitely been behaving oddly for the last couple of months. He disappeared regularly, usually at lunchtime. He’d put on weight, but ate smaller meals at home, and she could swear she’d whiffed women’s perfume on his clothes and it certainly wasn’t her Estée Lauder. It all added up now, every single, last, sordid detail.

      ‘What’s the old tart’s name, Jock? I know it’s a woman, so don’t you dare fucking lie to me.’

      Jock felt like a rabbit caught in the headlights. ‘I swear, it’s not what you think, Joycie. Him and Pat are just friends, that’s all. Your Stanley has decent morals, love,’ he stammered.

      ‘Well, I’ll give him morals and I’ll give her fucking Pat. What’s the old bag’s address?’ Joyce screamed down the phone.

      Jock was petrified of Joyce at the best of times. ‘I don’t know, I swear I don’t. All I know is she lives in Orsett,’ he said, his hands shaking.

      ‘Well, I’ll be taking a little trip to Orsett and when I find that dirty old bastard I married, I’m gonna chop his fucking bits off and feed ’em to his pigeons.’

      Unaware that his old woman was on his tail and currently spitting feathers, Stanley and Pat were rather inebriated and cuddled up on the sofa. They had left the pub about an hour ago and they must have sunk at least ten or twelve drinks while they were out. At one point, Stanley had even felt his legs start to buckle.

      ‘Do you wanna watch a film, Stanley, or shall we have an early night?’ Pat asked him expectantly.

      Not getting the gist of what she was asking, Stanley smiled at her. Unlike Joycie, Pat was a loving person and he sometimes liked it when she put her arms around him. It made him feel manly and wanted. ‘You watch a film if you like, love. I’m knackered, though, so I think I’ll have an early one.’

      Desperate to get Stanley into her own bed rather than the one in the spare room, Pat edged towards his lips and placed her own there.

      Feeling Pat’s tongue inside his mouth, Stanley

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