Five weeks. Or 33 days, 6 hours and about 20 minutes to be exact.

Unless I'd lost count somewhere between the blackouts. Nights spent in a drunken haze scanning the crowd at the club for her before passing out on the sofa in my office. Nights spent at home in a drunken haze in front of the TV before passing out on the sofa.  I'd passed out a lot recently.

It feels like longer than five weeks – feels like an eternity. Though maybe if I stopped counting every fucking minute of it like this it would move faster.  

Funny how a whole life could pass by in an instant, or in a flicker almost, but how five weeks wallowing in self-pity could feel like years. As though I was dragging myself through mud or concrete to fuck knows where.

Though maybe if time went slow enough it would eventually go backwards? Back to before, back to when I had her.  But even if that were possible, I'd need to go a lot further back than 33 fucking days ago.    I'd need to go all the way back in order to undo all of the shit I'd done.   All of the shit she couldn't forgive me for, all of the shit I told her I wouldn't undo even if I could.

What the fuck was I thinking saying that to her? Was that supposed to sound romantic or something? As if telling her some bullshit about how everything had lead me to her, and how we were meant to be together was somehow going to change a fucking thing. She wasn't my shot at redemption. She was better than that and better than me and that's why she did what she had to do.

I've never been a self-pitying type of person. I'm the type of person that gets on with it. As soon as I was old enough to stand up for myself I realised that a bit of pressure here and a bit of force there could affect the slightest change in circumstance - I'd learned that the hard way. But I'd never experienced having something and then losing it. That was new. That was because I'd never actually had anything worth losing.

I'm not sure whether this is a situation I can apply some pressure and force to - I couldn't force her to love me again or take me back.   But she was mine once – so I guess it's not out with the realms of possibility that she could be mine again.  If I unravelled myself from this I could be someone worthy of her.   33 days was nothing in the span of a lifetime.  It was a blip and when I got her back, this time without her - this surviving without her - would be a footnote.

I could change this.   I would get her back.  There was no other outcome for me now.

"Daddy can I watch the lion king again! Please!" Cale screeches from the rug, smacking his hands loudly off his thighs a few times.  He's way more excited to see a film for the 200th time than anyone has a right to be but I feel myself smile at his enthusiasm in spite of my dark mood.

"Sure buddy, you remember how to work it?" I say, hauling my arse up from the chair with a half groan. 

I grab the Ipad from the highest shelf on the wall - I'd been limiting him to a few hours a day on it maximum because he was getting way too obsessed with the thing, staring at it hypnotically for hours.  

As I bring it over to him he nods hyperactively and pulls the white Bluetooth headphones over his tiny head. They're massive and so I make the size of them smaller so they don't slide off his head while he taps the tablet forcefully with his stubby nailed forefinger.  He'd started biting his nails like I do which is another reason I need to stop fucking doing it. 

When he's settled I walk over to the window and take a seat on the leather chair and pick up the acoustic guitar. I'd definitely been practicing more lately which I guess was some kind of positive to be taken from the pile of shit I'd created.  I was still awful at it though.  Looks like despite what she thought, these hands of mine weren't really good for anything other than destruction.

As my fingers strum away at some vaguely familiar sounding chords I wonder, not for the first time today, where she is and what she's doing right now.  Whether she's thinking about me, and whether it's with disgust or with need.  Though maybe she isn't thinking about me at all – which I'd decided is definitely the worst case scenario.

I'd played out the worst case scenario plenty of times since that day - which I had memorised. Every colour, every sound, every word from that perfect mouth of hers.   It was entirely possible that she'd moved on by now, and that the minute I walked out of that house she set about wiping me from memory.  Maybe she'd gone back to that pervert ex of hers she said she was done with. Maybe that's how epic my fuck up actually was in real terms.

The fear creeps in again, like it often does, that maybe all of this - everything that I was doing to try and get her back was for nothing.  Because even if by some miracle I was somehow able untangle myself from this steaming shitpile I'd created for myself, that it wouldn't make a single shred of difference to her because she was done with me. She'd moved on. Because she couldn't love me.

No. I can't believe that.

I have to believe that this wasn't all for nothing, and at the very least I'll have gotten myself and Cale out of this fucking mess that was my life.  He'd have a better life far away from this place and without the reminders of who and what I was echoing around him.  Course I need to figure out how to get him away from Vicky permanently in order to make that happen. 

I look over at him again and inhale a deep steadying breath.   He's playing drums on his thighs now and mumbling along to the words. He's all I have. He's literally the only thing I have left at this moment and that terrifies me.   That and never getting her back are the only things that terrify me.   Not the deal, or the possibility that Dan will find out, or what will happen to me if he does.  None of that comes close to the fear of losing Caleb and Alex.  

You've already lost her.  You disgust her.  She can't love you.

I still don't get why he loves that fucking film so much. I'd teared up the first time I watched it with him. I assume it's the lion obsession, and the fact that he's still at an age where life hasn't ground him down yet and he can see the hope in it.  Instead of his overriding memory being the part where the dad lion gets killed by the uncle lion in front of his son.

As I'm staring at him the doorbell goes, startling me out of my half trance. I'm not expecting anyone so I look down at myself as I walk toward the door wondering if I'm even fit for human consumption. I really need to have a fucking shower - I've been wallowing in tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt for a month and a half. Whenever I don't need to be at the club I sit here and feel sorry for myself in clothes I think I've washed three times in five weeks. I'm a disgrace. But in terms of who could possibly be on the other side of the door - I'm pretty sure there's only one - I honestly couldn't give a fuck if I'm in day-old sweat.

When I open the door she smiles brightly and flicks her hair over her shoulder. It sends a wave of perfume wafting over me that reminds me of the past - a scent I associate mainly with vodka and late nights and parties in houses of people I don't even like.  She's been wearing the same perfume since she was seventeen. 

She has on a tight bright knee-length orange dress, sandals made out of white leather and wine bottle cork, which put her about a foot taller, and a full face of make-up. She always comes here dressed to the nines these days, like it will somehow make a difference to me, like it will somehow make me want her.

"Hey," she says, eyeing me from head to toe as she fiddles absently with her hair.  I don't like the look in her eye as she stares at me so instead of answering her I turn and walk away without inviting her in.  She follows me anyway of course, noisy feet and noisier jewellery rattling over my shoulder. "I heard you playing from outside. You're sounding really good babe." She says from behind me.  Caleb spots her immediately and flings off the headphones, jumps up and runs toward her.

"Mummmy!" he shouts excitedly, throwing his arms around her fake tanned legs. She picks him up and kisses him noisily on his head.

"Hey little man. You been good for your daddy?" She asks, fluffing a hand through his hair.

Caleb looks to me and I give him a smile and a winking nod before he starts nodding at her.

"Yes! We played with the racing cars and then we watched the minions and then daddy said I could watch lion king." He tells her, proudly I think.

"I didn't think you were getting him until tomorrow?" I say, scrubbing my hand across my face and through my hair.

"Yeah...I know I'm not. I just missed him.  I was in town and just thought I'd pop in and say hello."  She gives me another smile before kissing him on the forehead. She missed him? Strange since she's constantly reminding me how little time I spend with him, and how much hard work he is and how tired she always is. That sort of chat was more frequent when I was with Alex. Whereas now she appears to be going for mother of the fucking year.

"Mmmm I think I need to cut his hair, it's getting so long." She says running her fingers through the length on his head. "What do you think?"

"I like his hair the way it is.  He suits it." I tell her.  She stares at me a moment and then nods before putting him back down on the floor.

"Ok. I'll leave it then. I can just give it a bit of a trim before he starts nursery - thanks for dealing with that by the way." she says. She means thanks for settling the £8k fees for the year and a half he'd be there.  Like she had to thank me for paying my son's education, or for my sons anything.

I say nothing and turn my head to watch as he runs back over and pulls on the headphones, before flopping back down on the rug to resume watching Lion King.

"Well since you're here, I'm going to go up and take a shower." I tell her and move past her to the stairs.

As I pass she puts her hand on my arm to stop me. "I could cut your hair if you want?  Shave this thing off too..." She reaches up to touch my face but I pull my head back out her reach before she does.  She hides her disappointment well. "You look so much better without it babe." She says, cocking her head to the side as she studies me.

"I do?" I ask, and she nods, batting her eyelashes. "Well you know what else, when I want your opinion on my appearance I'll ask you for it yeah?"  I leave her staring after me as I climb the stairs.

I'd thought about shaving the beard, but the longer I left it the more it had become a reminder of things, like a timeline, as though the longer it got the closer I was to being back with her or something.  That was ridiculous though and I knew it.  I probably just look like a homeless person.

In the shower I stare straight ahead and let the water pound me. The heavy spray feels like a thousand tiny punches all over my body - it feels good. It feels like what I deserve.  I close my eyes and tilt my head back and think about what I have to do today. Danny wants to talk to me about something, and I guess that should probably make me nervous considering what I've been up to but it doesn't.  Not really.  

My body is too full of other things - loss and guilt mainly - to be worried about Danny.  I was having a hard time giving a shit about most things these days actually so it was no real surprise. Danny would never suspect me of anything anyway. Someone could show him photos of me wearing a wire and having a drink with one of them in full uniform and he'd accuse them of being photoshopped.  He trusted me that much - he was forever telling me I was the son he never had.

Which was exactly why this was going to work.

Unfortunately for him I was the son he never had who was also going to sell him up the river and trade his every dirty deed for a clean slate and a fresh start.  The guilt of doing that would come later, I was certain of it.   But as long as I had Alex and Caleb by my side when it came I could live with it. Presuming I get out alive. I almost laugh at the irony of that.

As I scrub the grime and sweat from my body I think about her. The sound of her voice and the scent of her skin and how soft and warm it used to feel under my fingers.  I think about the taste of her in my mouth and the noises she made when I kissed her. It seems like another lifetime, like something from a wet dream I had a million years ago.  My hand drifts down my body to my cock, and as I move my hand over it to clean it I grip it hard, imagining it's her mouth wrapped around it instead. The night I found her naked at her piano is the image I choose this time.  Watching her perfect pale body from behind as she played the saddest thing I'd ever heard.  I'd meant to ask her about the music, what it meant and if she was playing it because she was sad and if she was sad because of me. I never got a chance to ask her any of that though because then she'd taken me in her mouth and pretty much every reasonable thought had left my brain.  Something that used to happen a lot when I was with her.

Something else had happened the night I found her at the piano.  It was the night I knew I'd never feel about another woman the way I felt about her. I'd suspected it before, I'd wanted her the minute I clapped eyes on her, but the more time I spent in her orbit the more I never wanted to come out of it.   She was it for me.   That night had confirmed it.  That night I fell crazy mental in love with her.  

I squeeze my eyes shut tight as my whole body begins to quake with loss and need.  Fuck I need to get her back and soon. Otherwise I'm likely to fucking collapse.

As I step out of the shower I scrub hard at my face and hair with the towel, before wrapping it around my waist.  I'm coming back into the bedroom when Vicky appears at the top of the stairs holding a plate out to me with something food like on it, her eyes roam over body and that look comes over her face again.   I ignore it again and walk across to the wardrobe.

"Made you a sandwich." she says.   "I was making one for Caleb and thought you might be hungry."  As she comes toward me I notice that she's barefoot. The fact that she makes herself at home here isn't something I like - barefoot and making me food being a prime example of her making herself at home.

"I'm not hungry." I tell her.   Could I wear gym gear to meet Dan?  Should probably make a bit of an effort considering I'm a lying piece of shit.     I pull out a pair of dark jeans and a casual blue shirt and throw them on the bed before going to the drawers to lift out clean underwear.  As I'm bent over, I feel her arms sliding around my waist and her hand skimming the front of the towel between my legs. I practically jump out of her touch before whipping round to glare at her.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

A flicker of something passes over her eyes, uncertainty maybe, but with something hot too.  "He's downstairs with headphones on - he won't hear us." she shrugs.  "We can do it your way. Whatever you want..." She steps in closer again and makes a second grab for my cock which practically retreats up inside taking my balls with it.  I catch her hands by the wrists and hold them out away from me.

I narrow my eyes at her. "Are you off your fucking head? Seriously? Are you using again?"  It's a possibility. With her, it's a definite possibility. I stare hard at her pupils which look a little large maybe.

"No. I just thought it might be fun you know?  I don't get why you're so disgusted at the idea Jay, you enjoyed it last time as I remember." she says.

"Enjoyed it?" I say. "I was barely fucking conscious during it - I was wasted remember.  The guy's toilet at Sal's with you not really one of my fondest memories to be honest..." I snap. She looks burned for a second, maybe two, before the sneer appears - the one I know so well, the one I hadn't seen in a while.

She narrows her eyes on me. "This is about her isn't it?" She scowls. "You're not seriously sitting about moping over that stuck up cow are you?" She laughs an small laugh and shakes her head. I tighten my grip on her wrists as my blood starts to boil. Vicky seems oblivious because she opens her mouth to speak again - when really she should know better by now.  "She never got you Jake. Not like I do.  I know you. You know me.  She wouldn't have made you happy..." I feel my face contort into one of confusion and disbelief as her mouth keeps moving. "I mean we have a son together babe.  Just tell me what you want and I'll do it." She pleads, sounding as sincere as I've ever heard her.

For a moment I'm speechless. She has to be on something, it's the only explanation. I'm still holding tight onto her wrists as I stare down at her. I've literally no idea where to even start with this. I don't need this fucking shit. Not today. Not ever.  I take a deep breath and step in close so there's no likelihood she'll miss what I'm about to say.

"Listen to me and listen hard - there's nothing you can do Vicky because you're nothing to me. You've always been nothing to me. The only thing you've ever done is help produce that beautiful perfect little boy down there, and you know what, if I hadn't seen you in the hospital with my own fucking eyes I wouldn't even believe you'd had anything to do with that."

Her whole body seems to shrink before my eyes and a glimmer of something cold and dark passes over her face. I'm not finished though.

"And with regards to her.  Don't ever mention her again do you hear me? In fact don't even think about her Vicky - forget she exists. You don't know her.  Nod if you hear me." I tell her.   She stares me down for a minute, defiant, but then she nods her head.  "And us?" I smile and shake my head. "Get that idea out of your delusional coked up fucking head right now sweetheart because that is never going to happen. Ever.   You got that?" This time she nods without being told to. "Now get downstairs and look after my son." I release her wrists and turn my back on her to go back to looking for underwear. I'm a cunt. I know that. It's not Vicky's fault Alex can't love me - it's mine. What is her fault though is her thinking that because Alex had left me that this somehow means something for her.  For us. Yeah, on that she's fucking delusional.

When I'm dressed I go back downstairs and find her on the sofa, legs crossed and filing away at her nails while Caleb sings loudly along to 'the happy song' as he calls it.

I'm putting on my watch as I cross the living room towards her. "I need to meet Dan. I was going to take him with me but since you're here can you stay here with him? I should only be a couple of hours at the most." I say, looking about the room for my mobile.

She lifts her head up and glares at me. "Well I can just take him home.  You know if you're too busy for him." She snaps.

I hold her eyes until she drops her stare. "Forget it. I'll take him with me."

She sighs loudly. "Fine I'll stay with him. But I'm going out later so you'll need to be back by five. I'm going to Kelly's to get my nails and stuff done."

"Oh don't worry, wouldn't dream of cutting in to your pamper time sweetheart."

She rolls her eyes at me before going back to what she was doing which now looks to be peeling off the bright pink shit on her nails.  Where the fuck is my mobile? I used it half an hour ago when I spoke to Dan. I lift up the cushions on the armchair behind Cale.

"Oh are you looking for this?"

When I turn around she's holding up my phone now, a narrow sly smile on her face.   If it wasn't fingerprint locked I'd honestly guess she'd been reading through my messages. Not that there was anything incriminating on there but still. As I reach out for it she pulls it back out of my reach and glances down at the screen. "Nope she still hasn't called. Looks like she's all done with you. Not meant to be I guess." She shrugs slightly.  I smile at her through gritted teeth before stepping forward to snatch it out of her hand.

"I'll be back in an hour and half." I say, walking over to kiss Cale on the top of the head.

"Oh say hi to uncle Dan for me will you babe?" She shouts as I'm walking to the door.

***

Dan is in my office when I get there, sitting at my desk like he fucking owns the place.  He's flicking absently through a newspaper and drinking a cup of black coffee most likely.  I smile as genuinely as I can manage at him as I come in, and then at Maryk, who's sitting on the couch by the window playing with his phone. 

Maryck stands and nods at me politely before exiting the office quietly through the back way into the stairs. It always surprises me how little noise he makes for such a massive hulking guy.  Maryk is Dan's 'shield and sword' - a huge Polish guy who speaks very little, though whether this is  because he's not a big talker or because he doesn't know much English I've honestly never been able to figure out. He appeared one day three years ago after Freddy up and 'disappeared'.

"Sorry for just making myself at home son, that blonde piece, Rachel is it, was kind enough to let me in and get me a cuppa while I waited for you." He says, closing the paper.

Firstly, he's not sorry because Dan is rarely if ever sorry about anything, and secondly I'm not late - he just wanted to let me know that I'd kept him hanging about.  It's just how he does things.

"No problem. Did she offer you a drink, drink?" I ask as I walk over to the fridge. After inspecting the contents I decide I should stay sober for this so I grab a can of diet coke from the back. "You want something stronger?" I turn to look at him. "Whisky? Beer?"

"Nah I'm good. Trying to cut down." He says with a smile as he pats the area around his waist. I assume Steph must be the cause of this. He'd been shacked up with her - a 23 year old lap dancer from Talia's - since February I think. Must be getting serious if he was cutting down on his alcohol consumption. Whiskey had pretty much been Dan's life force since I'd known him.

I nod and smile before closing the fridge and walking back to take a seat from where Maryk just got up.  It's still slightly indented and warm from him as I settle into it.

"So...." I say as I pull open the can. "What's up? Everything good?" I take a long welcome sip from it as Danny regards me shrewdly from behind my desk.

"You look different Jay." He says. "What's with the 'strange and weird'?  You undercover or something?" He chuckles.  The irony of this comment isn't lost on me and it sends a strange spidery chill creeping up my spine.  I run my hand over my new facial hair and smile.

"What? You don't like it? They're in these days. It's kinda growing on me." I smile, putting my hand up immediately to apologise for the terrible pun. Dan just smiles.

"They're in are they? Well you could pull anything off son." He says. "Though if I had your face I wouldn't be hiding it under that thing that's for bloomin sure. But then I never was one for style, or what's 'in'." He laughs.

Admission: I've always been a little afraid of Danny's laugh. When he laughed it was never entirely clear what was about to happen. He was unpredictable like that.  Laughter was supposed to put people at ease, relax the tension out of certain uncomfortable situations – but not Danny's. I'd never had any personal reason or cause to fear his laughter, I was always just afraid for someone else in the room. "Anyway, this place is looking good." He nods looking around and then out through the wall sized window behind me. "You've done well Jay. Really well. Never understood why you had your heart set on it but it looks like it worked out. I'm proud of you." He nods as he brings his eyes back to mine.

I swallow, feeling the guilt settle somewhere around my chest and my stomach. Somehow I manage still to stare him right in the eye. "Thanks Dan. Means a lot." I nod. "Couldn't have done it without you." This was a true statement.

He nods again, his bright blue eyes burying themselves deep inside me.  For an instant I'm convinced he knows everything.  Everything. But then, just as quickly the notion is gone and I realise it's just paranoia. Dan lifts his cup and takes a long deep swig and then sits back in the chair.

"How's my nephew?" He asks in a soft warm tone.

"Yeah he's good. And listen, thanks for buying him the Ipad. He loves it. I put his films on it and some of those kiddie games - he's permanently fucking attached to it. He sleeps with the thing." I tell him as I take another sip of coke. My mouth feels bone dry all of a sudden.

"Yeah? Good. He's a good kid. Takes after his dad." He smiles. Danny is fond of Caleb, spoils him rotten in fact which I don't like. Mainly because I don't want Caleb coming to look up to Dan like he's some kind of all powerful all giving god. The way I used to look up to Dan. "How's his mother doing?" He asks me, raising an eyebrow. "You still fighting her off?" His tone is playful but theres intent there.  There always is with Dan.

I keep my expression as impassive as possible and give him a small non committal shrug.

"Yeah I thought so. My niece is persistent, I'll give her that. You seen that prick she's with now? Terry Lewis's son? What a tosser. Always thought he was a shirt lifter you know?" He says.

I shake my head with a small smile. He's just thrown 3 separate insults in one short description of the guy.  I had seen Jason Lewis about, he was one of those guys who was either in front of a mirror or in the tanning salon - I think that's probably how they met, she probably did his hair and nails.

"Dunno Dan. I've never spoken to the guy." I say with another shrug.

He nods. "Yeah well, you know I'd rather she was with you." He says. I purse my lips but don't respond. "But I get it son, trust me. Her mother was hard fucking work too. Before." He says.  He purses his lips like he just tasted something bitter.

Vicky's mother and father's marriage was legendary in the east end. They'd had hundreds of fights in pubs and had both put each other in the hospital countless times. That was before he died of lung cancer at 45 - Dan's brother had been dead a year when I first met Vic.  Her mother died five years later of liver complications.  She'd been living on vodka and gin for the last 20 years of her life though and so that was normally how those kinds of things worked themselves out. Danny was the only family Vicky had left – apart from Caleb of course.

"Yeah I met Tanya a few times. She was something else." I say rubbing the back of my neck.

"Yeah she was. Fucking loony. Anyway. I never came here to talk about you and Victoria, or Del and Tan. Although, I always fancied a wedding between you two son, ain't gonna lie. Be like my own two kids getting married you know?" He says, giving me sort of sad look.  I decide not to point out that his two kids getting married would be called incest. "But you've always been stubborn Jay. Shame cause that girl never got over you – doubt she ever will.  But the heart wants what it wants, and it don't want what it don't want." He says.  I really fucking hope he's right about that. I really fucking hope Alex's heart still wants me. "You can't force a square peg in a round hole, I know that." He says.

"You're right about that Dan." I nod.

I really just want him to get to the crux of why he wanted to talk. I also really don't want to talk about Vicky anymore. I lean forward on my thighs. "So what's up? What do you need from me?" I ask, sitting forward, elbows on my knees.

He stares at me a long time before finally a sad kind of concerned look comes across his face.

"Its Kev." He says finally.

Fuck what now? I'm sure he's about to tell me he's accidentally killed someone again, or something similarly messy that I'm going to have to help clean up. Dan leans forward on the desk and temples his hands under his chin. "We're pretty sure he's made a deal.  Someone's been talking to the cops. It's him Jay."

My heart stops beating in my chest. As in for a second my brain and heart stop doing what they're supposed to do and I'm in some kind of suspended animation for a minute. Then everything rushes back in all at once and everything starts working double time as though trying to catch up. My breathing and my heartbeat feel dangerously fast.

I shake my head. "No way. He wouldn't.  Kev wouldn't do that Dan." I scrub my hand over my mouth and look around the room for something to inspire me. When I look back at Danny he's watching me very carefully. "You're sure?" I ask. "I mean how do you know for sure its Kev?"

He sighs. "We got someone on the inside. He told us one of our own; someone close to you and I had been talking.  Someone involved with the Bradford deal, maybe the Cartwright fuck-up too, and some other shit too. It's him. Who else would it be? He's always been a loose cannon Jay. You know that." He says.  He's watching my reaction closely with that same odd look on his face. It's unsettling. Is he lying to me? Does he know it's me? Is this a test?

Five minutes ago I was convinced I was being paranoid, Convinced that it my imagination was fucking with me. Now, I literally have no idea what's going on. I've always been able to read Dan, been close to him, like a son to a father. I've always thought to myself that no matter what, I know him - I know how his mind works.  Yet, right now I'm only 80% sure I'm safe. The other 20% is telling me I'm already dead and that he's playing me, calling my bluff to find out what I've told them.  Then I realise I'm wrong. He can't know. Cause if he knew then I'd be dead already. He wouldn't play this game with me.

This 20% of uncertainty was paranoia.

I sit back in the couch and rub my eyes with both hands and let out a heavy breath. "Fuck Dan.... I can't believe.... I just..." I shake my head. "I mean he's been distant lately, going off, taking things on himself, doing his own thing but I just figured it was his dad you know.  His dad's been trying to get in touch with him. He's on the way out apparently. But this? No way." I shake my head a few times.

Dan sighs heavily. "I know. I'm sorry. I wanted to be the one to tell you." Dan says.

I nod slowly. "I appreciate that Dan. So.... what are we going to do?" I ask him.

There's no hesitation on Dan's part. "He's gone. He's finished."

Of course he was.  This seems unfair. He was innocent - of a thousand things he was guilty and for a thousand more he should get what was coming to him - but of this he was innocent.  He's psychotic and dangerous but he didn't deserve to go out like this. As a traitor and a grass. This wasn't him. This was all on me. My life was turning into one massive ironic joke.

Then, like that night five weeks ago when I decided to make the deal, the idea comes to me - again its blinding and sharp and loud in my mind.

"Then let me do it." I say. Danny's eyes widen a little in surprise. "I mean I should be the one to do this. I should sort it." My voice is strong and clear. "Just let me find out what he's told them first, he trusts me. Then I'll take care of it. Let me do this Dan, let me take of of this."

Dan sits back in the chair again and nods once. "Ok. I want you to find out how deep that little shit has put us. I'll try my guy on the inside. As soon as we know what they know - he's gone."

I nod, gravely. "Leave it to me man, leave it to me."

Fucking hell.

How much higher could this shit pile get?