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was going to faint.
    She could still see the kids’ faces looking at her with big expressive eyes on that last day in court. Could still smell their hair as she’d hugged them close. A year on remand had cleaned her up, made her realise what she was missing out on all those years she was drugged out of her brains.
    It had been too late then and it was too late now.
    She began the long walk back to the hostel, the cold air cutting into her lungs. She didn’t want anything from Pat, especially not money he had made off young girls and women. That money was tainted with tragedy and shame. She could do without it.
    ‘Who was she then. Pat?’
    Wednesday’s nasal voice was getting on his nerves.
    ‘Why don’t you mind your own fucking business for once?’
    Wednesday was miffed and it showed.
    ‘I was only asking!’
    She stormed from the room, her tight little ass wiggling for all it was worth. Pat was oblivious. He knew that Marie was going to bring trouble, big trouble, and wasn’t sure how he could stop it. If she knew the full SP, would she kill him?
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    He had a feeling she was capable of it for all her newfound calm. She was always a funny one, was Marie. Could pick an argument with her own fingernails if the mood was on her.
    And he had fucked her up big time.
    He realised that much, just wondered how long it would be before she got wind of the whole situation and what would be the upshot then.
    Tiffany smiled at her daughter’s little face. Anastasia really was a very pretty child, all wide eyes and crinkly black hair. She was light-skinned, very light-skinned. If her hair was relaxed she could pass for Greek or Italian.
    Tiffany loved her with a passion that had surprised her. She wondered if her own mother had ever felt like that about her, but doubted it.
    Tiffany would kill for her child. Her mother had killed for a fix.
    A knock at the front door sent her leaping from her chair. She was smiling widely as she opened it.
    ‘All right, mate?’
    Patrick smiled into the girl’s eyes. She was just how he liked them: skinny, adoring and malleable. He wondered if the fact that she was Marie’s daughter added to her attraction. Sometimes she frowned and it was like looking at Marie again. Tiffany didn’t have her mother’s stunning looks, or her lush body at the same age, but she had the look of her.
    That innocent look that belied the fact they would fuck anything for a few quid. Well, Tiffany wasn’t that bad yet, but he was working on it.
    ‘I talked to me mate. He says you can audition for him tomorrow night. It’s the Aida Club by Tobacco Dock. Wear a schoolgirl’s uniform, he’s a right fucking perve.’
    ‘It is a lap dancing club, ain’t it?’
    Tiffany’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.
    ‘Of course it is, but the girls always come out in costume like, then someone pays for it to be removed. It’s good money. Tiff, I promise.’
    Anastasia put her hands on Patrick’s trousers and he jumped as if he had been burnt. The little girl was upset and Tiffany picked her up gently.
    ‘For crying out loud. Pat, she was only touching you.’
    ‘These trousers cost me over three hundred quid and I’m not
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    about to have them covered in her old crap.’
    He could see the confusion on Tiffany’s face as she stared at him and it reminded him of her mother’s expression when she had sat in his office earlier that day. Anastasia looked from one to the other, her face a picture of puzzled innocence as she felt the tension between them.
    Tiffany felt the familiar sinking of her heart as she watched father and daughter survey one another.
    ‘She is your child. Pat …’
    He took a deep breath and sighed.
    ‘Look, Tiff, I have seven kids to my knowledge and I love them all, your brother included. But I ain’t the hands-on type, you know that. I give you money and I see you both all right but I have never connected with any of them.’
    Tiffany knew he was telling her the truth but all the same