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pocketed the money Glenford said to him quietly, 'You got to try, man, I know that. I would have done the same myself.'
    He passed the joint to Freddie who toked on it deeply, holding it in his lungs for a few seconds before he slowly exhaled it. Then looking at the joint he said, 'Now that is good grass.'
    Glenford grinned. 'Me never smoke what me sell, boy. Especially when it was bought from white boys.'
    They all laughed then and Jimmy felt the tension depart the room. He finally exhaled his own breath then. The blacks worried him, but only because they were so unpredictable. He liked Glenford though and he had said the week before that Freddie should only unload the shittier grass on the skinheads who never knew the difference.
    In the car a few minutes later Jimmy said as much to him again.
    'That was a close one, Freddie. I mean, like I said last week, they know their puff.'
    Freddie stopped the car. Turning in the driver's seat he looked into Jimmy's face and said sternly, 'Don't you ever fucking lecture me again, right? We had a touch last week and that's the end of it.'
    Jimmy nodded furiously. 'I know that, Freddie. I was just saying—'
    'Shut it.'
    Freddie was staring into his eyes and the venom was there for anyone to see. Jimmy could feel the menace and he swallowed down the retort he was longing to give.
    He was nearly twenty years old and he was a player, and it was getting harder and harder to keep his anger on a leash. Freddie treated him like the hired help and it rankled. He could hold his own with anyone and he wanted the respect that should have afforded him.
    Freddie slammed his fist on the steering wheel in frustration. 'I'm sorry, Jim, but look at me, I am still selling shite for Clancy and the time has come to put him wise, whatever Ozzy might think. He is lumped up for the fucking duration and I ain't spending the rest of my life as one of his heavies.'
    He started the car up again. 'And I don't need you reminding me, all right?' He smiled then, a sad little smile. 'Let's go and get a drink, eh? I have a little bird on the go in Ilford, you can drop me there and take the car, OK?'
    He turned on the cassette player and the sounds of Phil Collins filled the cramped space between them.
    Jimmy sighed inwardly. Freddie hadn't been home for days and he knew it was bringing untold aggravation for everyone concerned, except of course, for the man who caused all the upset.
    In the last six months he had caused murders with Jackie, and while everyone else suffered, Freddie just did his own thing.
    As Maggie's dad always said, Freddie Jackson would never
    change all the time women had tits.

    'Stick the kids in the bath for me, would you?'
    Maggie nodded, and, going upstairs, she started to run the bath, putting in a hefty dollop of Matey so the girls would have something to play with.
    Once the girls were settled in there she washed their hair quickly and then left them playing with their toys.
    In the front room she saw Jackie had opened another bottle of Liebfraumilch.
    'Where the fuck is he? For all I know he's banged up.'
    Lena, who was in the kitchen making sure her daughter had food in the fridge to feed her children, said loudly and sarcastically, 'They would have informed you by now.'
    Maggie could have lamped her mother for her answer. While Jackie could convince herself Freddie was banged up she was, if not happy, then at least reassured that her errant husband wasn't trumping the nearest female he could lay his grubby hands on.
    Jackie closed her eyes in distress. 'He's with a bird, ain't he?'
    Maggie sat beside her on the sofa and said gently, 'You don't know that, Jackie. Calm yourself down, those kids can feel something's up.' She lit her a cigarette and placed it in her hand, taking the wine glass from her at the same time. 'This ain't going to do you any good, is it?'
    Jackie sniffed, the tears near once more. 'It helps me sleep.'
    Maggie lit a cigarette for herself. Seeing her sister like this