‘Yo like to mebbe party with me, Fs got me a crib dat be shaking.’

She threw a tenner at him and a look that cut through his high, said:

‘Keep the change.’

He watched her saunter down the road, said:

‘No woman, no cry.’

Angie let herself into the flat.

Jimmy wasn’t back yet. The place was bare, the few items Jimmy had brought were in boxes. She unpacked them, scattered them around — it had to look like he’d lived here. She piled cups and dishes in the sink. Then went to the bathroom, ran a hot bath, returned to the main room, picked up the one-bar electric fire and plugged it in near the bath. You’d get more heat from a cigarette but Angie wasn’t interested in getting warm.

Then she sat down to wait. Prison had taught her how to do that, just sit and let her mind roam free. Mostly, she thought about the second half of the money — her money — and how she was going to separate Ray from it. A key turned in the lock, then she heard some fumbling and she smiled as she knew Jimmy was drunk, as he always was come evening. The door opened and he staggered in, seemed stunned to find all the lights on, then saw her and beamed:

‘Angie!’

She gave a huge smile went over and put her arms round him, said:

‘You tease, making a girl wait.’

He moved away from her, confusion and a hint of suspicion on his face, asked:

‘Why are you here, I thought you’d be with Ray, and didn’t you say we had to stay away from each other till the heat died down?’

Irritation rose in her, like he was going to get bright now, of all the times for him to start acting like a normal person. She bit down on the emotion, went to her bag, produced a bottle of champagne, said:

‘But we have to have a small celebration. You did brilliant; we couldn’t have pulled this off without you. I just had to come and let you know that. I even dressed special for you. Don’t you like the way I look, Jimmy? Do you really want me to go?’