Watching Dante leave, Alex turned to see two official men in suits coming through the door. ‘Morning Alex.’

‘Inspector, what can I do for you?’ A nervous smile crossed Alex’s face as he wondered why they were here. Holding his hands up in submission, he grinned. ‘I’ve done nothing wrong. Keeping my head down as you said.’ Alex watched nervously as they cast a furtive glance between themselves.

‘Come on fellas, spit it out.’ Alex waited with bated breath.

‘It’s your old house Alex.’ Giving a small cough to clear his throat, one of the detectives spoke.

‘My old house?’ Confused, Alex looked from one to the other. He could feel his heart begin to beat faster. ‘What about it?’

‘Last night, two adults, man and wife and two kids, a boy and girl, around the same age as Deana and Dante, were shot dead. It was definitely professional, one bullet each to their heads. It was cold blooded with no scuffle. There wasn’t even a break-in.’

Alex’s heart sank, and he felt bile rise in his throat. A million questions ran through his head, but none seemed relevant. Some poor family was dead because of mistaken identity. Trying to compose himself, he let out a deep sigh. Sweat ran down his back, making his shirt stick to him. He inhaled again and looked up at the inspectors. Alex realised that next time, the assassin, whoever they were, would get the right family. His. Inwardly, he wanted to shout, ‘What the fuck have I done?’ but he held it in and tried to remain calm. He licked his lips and swallowed hard to moisten his throat. ‘Why would anyone go back to my old house? We haven’t lived there in an age. Is anything known about the killer, who they were?’

The police inspector let out a sigh. ‘We don’t know. There’s not a scrap of evidence. No one saw them go in or out of the building. Are you sure you still want to do this, Alex?’ The inspector waved his arm around the pub. ‘This isn’t the safest place to be, you know. We do our best, but sometimes our best isn’t good enough.’

‘Did you see Maggie as you walked in?’ Alex paused as they both nodded their heads. ‘She’s happy and she’s smiling. I haven’t seen her like that in ages. I can’t take that away from her now, you know that, don’t you? I agreed to this, and I know you boys in blue pulled a lot of strings to get us this place. Maggie’s place.’ He smiled, although it was a very weak one. ‘I’ve made my choice. Just don’t tell her anything about the family, poor bastards. What can I say?’ Alex ran his hands through his black hair. His mind felt tortured as he thought about what the inspectors were telling him.

‘We won’t say anything about this to Maggie,’ the police inspector reassured him. ‘We’ll let her think this was just another social call. Let’s just carry on as we agreed.’

Standing up, the other inspector nodded and held out his hand to shake Alex’s. ‘It’s your funeral Alex, make the most of it.’

‘I will and thank you.’ Shaking hands with them both, he watched them leave then paced the room. His mind was in turmoil. His earlier life hadn’t exactly been law abiding. He’d been a gangster for as long as he could remember, always ducking and diving with the wrong crowd. That was until he’d got in with the right crowd. Matteo wasn’t just part of the gang, he was the boss’s brother and that had given him the excuse to cause chaos wherever he went with someone else having to clean up his mess after him – usually Alex. It had been Paul Pereira’s idea to put the two boys together. He felt they would make a good team, and to be fair they were. As kids, it had worked but as time moved on, Matteo had found the adult addictions of booze and drugs. Matteo also carried a gun like some cowboy, always waving it around, when in truth he was a coward and an even worse shot! Even Paul was tired of hearing about his younger brother’s antics and many a time Alex had heard the two of them arguing in another room.

Alex had always given respect to the heads of the families and in return had gained respect from them. Matteo they simply tolerated, and he had grown to resent the respect Alex got from the other family members. This had grown into a bitter jealousy and every petty incident turned into an argument between the two men. And then Alex had met Maggie. Matteo had always liked Maggie, but she had never entertained or encouraged his flirtation. She would often make herself scarce when he was around, claiming he made her skin crawl. Thinking back now, Alex realised that Matteo knew everyone had an Achilles’ heel and Maggie was his. Maybe Matteo had thought his antics would cause a little disruption and that Alex would be thrown out of the family circle? Puzzled, Alex wondered to himself whether Matteo’s attempt to rape and hurt Maggie had been his way of finally getting his revenge on Alex. Letting out a sigh, he shook his head. He would never know the answer to that… not now. Because Matteo was dead.

John, one of Alex’s comrades and an assassin like himself, had been the only one to stand in Alex’s favour and disagree with the families that it was Alex who should be punished for protecting his wife. But Paul Pereira had already convinced the families that blood was thicker than water and that Alex had never asked for permission to take action against Matteo. Like they would have agreed! He laughed to himself. Alex had wanted justice, but the families had brushed it off. Now Alex was getting his justice and so was Maggie, but at what cost? Already a family had been sought out and murdered in cold blood and Alex cursed himself for being grateful that it hadn’t been his family.

Rubbing his face with his hands, Alex felt tired. Tired of everything lately. For over a year they had been constantly on the run, living in boarding houses, hidden in military barracks, never knowing what one day or another would bring. Now it was just him and his family, like any other, fighting to make a living legally, and on their own. Sometimes, when he’d laid awake at night while Maggie slept beside him, he’d thought about it and to be honest, it scared him a little. The fear of the unknown. His mind was in turmoil. He had always been part of something and now it felt like he was alone and being thrown to the wolves to survive – alone.

Hearing laughter outside the pub, he walked to the entrance and saw Maggie and Deana laughing and joking about their decorations. Taking a breath and swallowing hard, he joined them.

Maggie looked down from her ladder with a concerned look on her face. ‘What’s wrong? What did those two want?’

‘Social call,’ Alex lied. ‘I’m fine Maggie. Just a bit nervous about our first night, I guess. It’s make-or-break night, isn’t it?’ Rubbing his hands together, he forced a wide grin.

Getting down from the ladder, Maggie put her arms around him and kissed him. ‘If you’re sure?’

‘I’m fine,’ Alex said, reassuring her.

Maggie looked at her husband. She could tell that the visit from the two inspectors had unsettled him, but she could also tell that he didn’t want to talk about it, so she changed the subject. ‘Well, I don’t know about you two, but I’m famished. Phyllis and Pauline, the barmaids, will be here soon, so let’s eat and then I can get ready.’

‘We have a barmaid called Phyllis? Blimey, not exactly exotic is it,’ Alex laughed. ‘But you’re the boss Maggie. Let’s eat and then you can have four hours to put your make-up on.’

Kissing his cheek, Maggie stood back and surveyed the decorations. Satisfied, she walked inside, ahead of them both. ‘And don’t be rude about Phyllis, or to her,’ she shouted behind her.

‘I’ve been a barmaid for twenty-eight years, Mrs Silva, so you just leave things to me.’ Phyllis pouted and ran her fingers along the bar to check it had been polished.

Alex sat at the back of the pub. All afternoon Maggie had had him walking up and down from the cellar carrying crates of orange juice and other mixers.

Spying Phyllis, he cast a glance towards Maggie. Phyllis was at least six foot two and just as wide and by his reckoning in her late fifties, her very late fifties, he decided to himself. Her bleach blonde hair gave her home perm more of a frizziness than a perm. Looking her up and down, Alex winced. He hoped the beer was good because the bar staff wasn’t going to attract attention – that was for sure! When Pauline, the other barmaid, came rushing through the doors, Alex’s heart sank even more. She wasn’t quite five foot, which made him wonder to himself how she was going to reach the top shelves. It was obvious to him that she dyed her hair red to cover the grey, but the grey roots looked more pinkish to him than red. Clearly, he mused to himself, she needed to use a different colour. Her make-up was heavy and her red lipstick represented a cupid’s bow.

‘Mrs Silva, shall I start setting things up?’ she asked.

‘No Pauline, everything is in order for now. Would you like to make yourself and Phyllis a pot of tea or something before we open up?’ Avoiding Alex’s eyes, Maggie did her best to greet the new barmaids and make them feel at home. ‘Alex, can I have a quick word? I think you might need to bring up some more crisps.’ Maggie winked.

Taking this as his cue to leave, he stood up and followed Maggie. Once she had shut the door, she pulled him aside, wagging her finger in his face. ‘Not one word,’ she whispered, ‘I can read your face like a book, Alex Silva, so none of your sarcastic comments. It’s experience we need and those two both have it.’

Taking her finger wagging in good humour, Alex laughed. ‘Personally, I think we should have opened on Halloween night. You have one with an arse the size of the Titanic and a surly attitude and the other one needs twenty-four hours before the cement of make-up sets on her face. Bloody hell Maggie, is that the best they could come up with? They’ll scare the bloody customers; I know for a fact that Phyllis already scares the shit out of me! You might get a few complaints from the male drinkers, too. They aren’t the usual kind of barmaid you’d hope for.’

‘That’s bloody sexist Alex,’ she snapped. ‘Promise me you’ll keep your opinions to yourself.’

The cheeky grin dropped from Alex’s face as he looked into Maggie’s eyes. She was almost pleading with him and yet he couldn’t understand why. She knew he was a joker, that was his way. He had always laughed his way through life. ‘Maggie love, I’m sure they are nice women, and their recommendations come very highly. I’m only messing.’ Leaning forward, he gave her a peck on the lips and saw the smile reappear on her face. ‘Come on, let’s open up!’

Dante, Deana and Alex were watching from the back of the bar to support Maggie in her long-awaited moment of glory. Excitedly, Maggie slid the bolt across the door and opened it, turning towards Phyllis and Pauline standing at the beer pumps. Maggie gave them the thumbs up. ‘Ladies, at your battle stations.’ Looking past them towards Alex, she gave him a cheeky wink, then she almost fell forward as the door flung open and hit her in the back, as the customers nearly trampled her underfoot as they walked in.

Time for opening night!

4 A ROARING SUCCESS

As the music blared out, the whole neighbourhood seemed to pour through the doors ordering their drinks. The quiet, freshly painted pub that had recently stood silent, now burst into new life, full of laughter and chatter. The ladies let their husbands stand at the bar, ordering their drinks, while they wandered around looking and admiring the new décor and carpeting.

Olivia was the first to wave Maggie over, smiling like a Cheshire cat in the knowledge that she knew Maggie.

‘Oh Maggie, this place is beautiful. Let’s have a drink together to celebrate your opening.’

‘That sounds lovely Olivia. I’ll go and get us both a white wine.’

Maggie walked to the back of the bar near the optics and picked up a wine bottle. ‘Come on you kids, time to go upstairs and leave everyone to it. And you Alex can join in and meet the new neighbours. We need to fit in,’ she whispered under her breath and walked away to re-join Olivia. Taking her lead, Alex followed her and greeted Olivia at the bar.

‘Alex, Maggie, this is my husband, Mark,’ Olivia gushed.

Alex and Maggie cast each other a furtive glance then stared back at Olivia and her husband. They both seemed slightly puzzled. Never in their wildest dreams would they have put Mark down as Olivia’s husband. Mark was a huge bulk of a man. His head was shaved, and he had a long dark, gingery beard that almost touched his chest. He was wearing an open denim shirt showing his black vest underneath and a casual pair of jeans, whereas Olivia was quite petite, and her soft, ash blonde hair was styled to perfection. Alex and Maggie had both assumed Olivia’s husband would be an office worker, with a suit.

‘I’m a mechanic. You might have seen my mobile van. Quick Fix.’ He held out his hand to shake Alex’s, his smile wide and genuine.

Alex liked him instantly. He could sense Mark was one of those gentle giants, and everyone who came in or was stood at the bar waved and shouted Mark’s name. Musing to himself, Alex realised that Mark was probably the key to the neighbourhood secrets and a couple of rums would hopefully loosen his tongue.

Phyllis and Pauline were run off their feet and Maggie watched them as they joked with the customers like old friends. She felt a bit guilty that she hadn’t pulled a pint yet, but tonight she had to play hostess.

Emma and Olivia had beckoned her to their side of the bar and linked arms with her. ‘Let me introduce you to some of the neighbours,’ Olivia whispered. ‘There’s Percy, you see over there, the old man with the white hair.’ Cocking her head and looking beyond the row of customers, Maggie spotted an old man stood at the far end of the bar with a roll-up cigarette in the corner of his mouth and nursing a pint of lager.

‘I think I’ve seen him before. He was helping the builders when they were here… I do hope that cigarette isn’t lit, we do have a beer garden for smoking. Maybe I should say something,’ said Maggie.

‘No, it’s not lit. He won’t smoke his own tobacco. He’ll wait till Mark and the boys go out for a smoke and then sponge one off them. He’s probably had that one since the queen’s jubilee.’ Emma laughed. ‘He lives alone. No one goes in his house because he stinks so God knows what his house smells like.’ Emma wrinkled her nose and smiled. ‘In summer he shaves his head and sits outside his house on a dining chair in an old off-white vest. He’s like the unofficial neighbourhood watch. If you ever need a parcel taken in, or your bins putting out, Percy will do it.’