‘It works out eighteen grand each, boys.’

Tommy and Freddie smiled at one another. Easy pickings was putting it lightly.

It had been Bobby Adams’s idea to get involved in the wonderful world of cannabis. He’d moved to the Costa del Sol in the late eighties and had soon got his foot in the door with the locals. Knowing that armed robberies were now a thing of the past, he’d invited Freddie and Tommy over to have a little chat with him.

The villa he lived in was the bee’s knees, and from the moment the lads had stepped off the plane, they had visions of living the life that Bobby had made for himself. On the third night of their stay, he sat them down next to the swimming pool. Opening a bottle of vintage champagne, he handed them both a glass.

‘I invited you over here because I’ve got a business proposition for you. That game you’re in has had it. You need to ply your trade elsewhere and I’ve got the perfect solution for you. I want to start bringing cannabis into England by boat and I need someone trustworthy to collect it for me. There’ll be two drop-offs a month at a seaside resort on the south coast. The Old Bill there are on my payroll, so you’ll have no grief with them. Once you’ve picked up, you’ll take it to a pal of mine’s warehouse. The people who are buying it will collect from wherever you say. All you’ve got to do is unload the stuff off the boat, arrange and meet the buyers, and collect and look after the money. The profits we’ll split down the middle, fifty–fifty, minus the cost of the drug itself.’

Tommy and Freddie decided within minutes that they were willing to give it a go. That was now three years ago, and since then they’d never looked back.

‘Yer coming for a celebratory drink, Jimmy boy?’

James shook his head. ‘I can’t, Maria’s got some running around for me to do.’

Tommy and Freddie both did a wanker sign as they got in the car. Maria had him well under the thumb, but it was his stag night on Friday, and they were determined to give him a night to remember. They’d wanted to take him abroad for the weekend, but he was having none of it.

‘You can fuck right off, I know what yous two are like. You ain’t getting me off me head and leaving me stranded in some foreign country.’

Both Tommy and Freddie knew that that was just an excuse. The real reason he didn’t want to go away was solely because of Maria. She wasn’t a big fan of his involvement with them, and it was obvious that she thought they were a bad influence on her beloved James. Many a time they’d got him so pissed that he’d stayed out all night. Maria had gone mental every time it had happened, so much so that she’d banned James from socialising with them any more.

James smiled as he started up his new sports car. He’d only bought the Mazda recently and was in love with it. The traffic was at an absolute standstill and it gave him plenty of time to think about his forthcoming nuptials and life in general. He’d been with Maria for over ten years now, and he loved her more as each day passed. They’d been living together for the past two years in the flat above the tailor’s shop.

He still owned the shop, but business was anything but booming. Times had changed and an old-fashioned tailor’s shop was now a thing of the past. He no longer worked there himself, he had a guy called Martin running it for him. Once Martin had been paid, there was virtually no profit left at all, but he kept it going for reasons of his own. He’d finished paying Harold back a couple of years ago, and even though his old boss knew that business was crap, he’d still be devastated if the shop that had been in generations of his family were to be closed down.

James was still very close to his old boss. Harold’s health wasn’t great now and James always vowed to himself that he wouldn’t close the shop down while Harold was still alive. Another reason he liked to keep the shop running was that it kept his mother off his case. She knew he was up to other bits and bobs, and he told her that he’d expanded into wholesale. The only thing he’d forgotten to tell her was that he was wholesaling cannabis, rather than suits.

His desperation to give Maria the life she deserved had forced him into a life of crime. Maria worked as a hairdresser, but even with a bit of private work on the side, her wages were poor. Both their mums were skint, and Maria still wasn’t speaking to her dad, so unless they saved for their future themselves, there wouldn’t be one. James’s hard work had paid off handsomely and, in ten days’ time, Maria would become his wife and get the wedding she deserved. He’d also promised her the dream move to Essex that she so badly wanted. ‘We need to move to a nice area before we have children, James. The East End’s a shit-hole now and I’m not bringing kids up around here,’ she insisted.

It had been about three years ago when he’d decided a change of career was needed. The shop had been taking peanuts and he’d been barely able to scrape Harold’s money together, let alone earn anything on top. It was around about the same time that Tommy and Freddie had started a new business venture. Seeing the money they were chucking about made his eyes water and, as luck would have it, they told him they needed an extra pair of hands.

Having never lied to Maria in all of the time they’d been together, James made the decision to tell her the truth from the start. She hadn’t been happy at first – in fact she was worried sick – but, as time ticked by, her worries eased. Having children and a nice house with a big garden was their dream. Both he and Maria hated living in the cramped flat in Bethnal Green and, thanks to his new-found career, their dream would very soon become reality.

Parking in the alleyway behind the back of the shop, James turned off the engine and picked up the brochures. He’d changed the honeymoon location only this morning. Maria thought they were going to Majorca, and he couldn’t wait to see her face when he told her the truth – that they were heading for the Caribbean. Laughing, he locked up his car.

Freddie was the happiest of the two. He’d met Sarah in the pub after Tommy’s dad’s funeral and had been with her ever since. They had a five-year-old daughter, Daisy, and were currently trying for another. They weren’t married, but had recently moved to Hainault in Essex. Freddie didn’t particularly like the area. After living in Manor Park for years, he found it far too quiet and, if it hadn’t been for his daughter, he wouldn’t have moved at all. The day his Daisy had come home from nursery reciting ‘Baa Baa Black Sheep’ in Hindu was the final push that he’d needed.

Tommy swung his BMW into the pub car park. Bowling into the boozer, he ordered a large scotch on the rocks. Pleased he had chosen a pub where no one knew him, he ignored the admiring glances from the barmaid, and stared at the football on telly. The game was one–all and near the end, but he had no interest in it, he just didn’t want to go home.

Unlike his brother and best pal, he wasn’t all that happy with his lot. He was still with Lucy, but he wasn’t with her by choice. She’d trapped him, it was as simple as that.

At the time, she’d sworn blind she was on the pill, but had mysteriously fallen pregnant within months of them getting together. He’d been furious with her: he was only twenty-five, and he demanded she got rid of it. She’d refused, and then, like most dads, he’d taken one look at his son, and had wanted to be with him. Lucy wanted to name the boy after him, but he was adamantly against it. He didn’t want the kid to have the same name as his piss-head grandfather.

With his father’s alcoholism and his own murder rap, the name Tommy Hutton was a fucking curse. Desperate for his son to have a good start in life, he called him Alfie.

Alfie was nine now, a cheeky little fucker he was, and the apple of Tommy’s eye. He now had another one on the way as well, but fuck knows how he’d managed that. He rarely shagged Lucy any more and, amazingly, she’d managed to conceive while taking contraception once again.

He didn’t hate her. She was a good mum, a loyal partner and their house in Chingford was spotless. She was also a fantastic cook and worshipped the ground he walked on. The problem was, he didn’t love her. He’d tried, but he couldn’t. He envied his brother and Freddie because they had both found the one thing that eluded him. He’d give his right arm to be in their shoes, he really would, but that was never going to happen, not with Lucy. That’s why he fucked about, shagged anything and everything. It didn’t make him feel better about himself, but he did it out of frustration.

Picking up his mobile, he dialled his landline. ‘All right, Luce? I’m on me way home. Do yer want me to pick up a Chinese?’

‘I’ve done you a nice roast, Tommy, but I don’t mind if you’d rather have a takeaway.’

Tommy sighed as he ended the call. She was so keen to please him that she agreed to anything. No man could respect a desperate woman, including himself. He liked spirited birds with a bit of fire in their belly. Picturing Maria, he finished his drink and picked up his keys. It was time to go home.

As James chucked her the brochure, Maria’s eyes lit up. She’d always longed to go to the Caribbean and James had promised to take her there some day.

‘Have you booked it? When for? Next year?’

James smiled at her. ‘I’ve cancelled Majorca. Only the best for my bride – we’re going there on honeymoon.’

Maria squealed and threw her arms around him. ‘James Hutton, I love you so, so much.’

James kissed her passionately. Feeling himself getting hard, he rubbed himself against her. ‘Any chance of you showing me your gratitude?’

Maria giggled. Grabbing his hand, she led him towards the bedroom.

‘Daddy!’

He scooped his son into his arms. ‘I bought us a Chinese. You hungry, boy?’

Alfie nodded. He was always hungry.

Lucy jumped up from the sofa. Men were no good at dishing dinner up, they just threw stuff onto a plate. ‘You sit down, I’ll do that.’

Taking two trays into the living room, she handed it to her two favourite boys.

‘I’m gonna have a quick bath while you’re eating. I won’t be long.’

As the water ran fiercely through the tap, Lucy sat on the toilet seat and cried. From an outsider’s point of view, her life seemed idyllic. All the girls up the school were in envy of her. In their eyes she had the nice house, the handsome husband, the perfect family life. She hid the truth well; it was the only way that she could cope.

Behind closed doors, her life was a complete shambles. Tommy had never loved her, she knew that. He’d stayed with her because of Alfie, and the only way to keep him there was to have another. Trapping him had been the only answer, because he would never have agreed to have kids with her. He would have met someone else, left her and moved on. The thought of him having kids with another bird would have finished her off. She loved him so much that she felt that her heart would break at times. If only she could make him love her like she loved him. Over the years she’d tried her best, but she knew it was never going to happen. She knew he had other women – she could often smell them on him – but as long as he met no one special and came home to her, she would always turn a blind eye.

Patting her rounded stomach, she stopped crying and forced a smile. ‘You’ll help me to keep daddy at home where he belongs, won’t you, darling?’ she whispered.

‘I don’t suppose you’ve cooked us any dinner, Maria, have you?’

Maria giggled. Her culinary skills were a standing joke between the two of them. She hated cooking and he ribbed her rotten over her culinary attempts.

‘Whaddya fancy?’ he asked her.

‘I wouldn’t mind a curry,’ she replied.

James leaped out of the bed and slung on his clothes. Sex always made him hungry and tonight was no exception. The local Indian was only four doors away, and it was easier to walk there than order it over the phone.

‘Don’t tell me: chicken tikka masala, pilau rice and naan bread.’

Maria laughed. She had the same thing every time they got a takeaway.

As he shut the door, she flopped back onto the bed and sighed. She was about to become Mrs Maria Hutton and she couldn’t bloody wait.

Their relationship over the years had gone from strength to strength. At first, she’d been wary, as she truly believed that Tommy would open his big mouth and spoil their happiness, but as the years passed, she’d stopped worrying so much. Tommy had his own family now and he was hardly likely to blurt out the details of their one-night stand when he had so much to lose himself.

Maria hated him and had as little to do with him as possible. Lucy was nice, Maria liked her, but apart from the odd unavoidable family get-together, James and Maria had very little to do with them socially. Maria knew James worked with his brother – that couldn’t be helped – but she’d stopped their drunken nights out.

‘I’m not having you rolling home pissed at all hours,’ she told James firmly. ‘If you want to get married to me and have children, then you have to start acting like an adult, James.’

Thankfully, he had taken her advice. She wouldn’t have cared if he was out with anybody else; she just didn’t trust Tommy. There was always a chance he could put his foot in it, or get James drunk and encourage him to stray.

Although Tommy was settled in his family life, she knew deep down he was jealous of her and James. She could see the deep-rooted envy in his vicious eyes. If James wanted to work with Tommy, fine, but otherwise, she’d ordered him to keep well away.

‘Why don’t you like Tommy?’ James often asked her.

‘I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t trust him. Just do what you have to do and come straight home,’ she insisted.

As the door opened, Maria started to chuckle. Every time he went to the Indian, he came back mimicking their voices.

‘Your chicken tikka has arrived, madam. Would you like me to dish it up for you, my lazy one?’ he said in his best Indian accent.

Throwing on her dressing gown, she smiled. He was one in a million, her James, and she loved him more than life itself.