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knew what he had let himself in for and he was glad. Let the fat old queen use his body. It had put food on his mother’s table. It had brought the kids clothes. It would eventually bring him untold riches. Never would he allow himself to feel bad about it again.
    He looked up into the black sky and waved his fist at the stars. This was a new beginning for the Ryans. He was going to pick them up out of the gutter and establish them in the monied world where he knew they belonged. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his overcoat he felt the little box that contained the tie pin. He grinned. As soon as the shops opened after the holidays he was going to go out and buy himself a tie!
    When Michael saw the happy faces on Christmas Day, the food that seemed inexhaustible and the merriment his gifts had brought, he finally came to terms with himself. Anything, however bad, was worth all this. After a large, noisy Christmas dinner, Michael sat with his sister Maura asleep on his lap. As he looked down at her sleeping face, sucking contentedly on her thumb, he swore that he would commit murder if it kept his family as happy as they were now.
    It was a promise he was to keep many times.

Chapter Three
    1955
    Garry and Benny Ryan were playing on the bombsite that was once Testerton Street. The day before they had noticed while coming home from school that an enormous mound of sand had been left there. That meant one of two things - the remaining houses were either being patched up or demolished to make way for pre-fabs. Either way they knew that their playground was going to disappear. Both boys had been up and out by six-thirty. If they timed it just right they could scavenge for a few hours before going to the Royalty in Ladbroke Grove for the Saturday morning minors. P They had played in the mound of sand for “over an hour. Benny, at nine, was already a true Ryan. Big for his age, he towered over Garry who was eleven. Garry had a long thin body, giving him a waif-like appearance. He was the only Ryan to wear glasses, which he was forever pushing higher on his nose, the thick lenses giving him an owlish appearance. Where Benny was dark-haired with the characteristic and dark blue eyes and full-lipped mouth, Garry was the opposite. He had light brown hair and a feral quality about him that made people do what he wanted. Garry was the acknowledged genius of the family, forever reading. His room was strewn with books and papers. He also fancied himself as an inventor - a pastime that had his mother caught between maternal pride and an almost uncontrollable urge to murder him.
    The June sunshine gave their play an added vigour. All; around them the world had come to life. The hum of the traffic was getting louder and every so often the rattling of a train set the dirt trembling. To the right of the mound of sand stood what remained of the houses in Testerton Street. The bomb had been a direct hit and only the last few dwellings had still been standing afterwards. They had no fronts left. Their rooms were great gaping caverns that miraculously still had wallpaper and broken furniture inside.
    The two boys knew every inch of these houses. From the roof rafter of the most stable hung their ‘bundle swing. Now summer was here the swing would become focal point for the children around and about. Boys would come from as far away as Shepherd’s Bush and Bayswater to play on it between fighting rival gangs. Providing the work didn’t start too soon, it would be a good summer.
    Scrambling down from the mound of sand, Garry began walking towards the houses, his hands and knees stained orange. Seeing his brother walking away Benny followed hastily, rubbing off the damp sand from his hands on his shorts. He caught up with Garry, puffing for breath.
    ‘What we gonna do then?’ As always he waited for Garry to decide what games were to be played.
    Garry looked up at his brother, his thin face already grimy. ‘We’s gonna look for bombs and