I Hear You Knocking –––––––– The Loggerheads pub, two nights later –––––––– Harry was leaning against the bar chatting to Paul and Les Parker. Bobby was out of earshot, serving someone over the other side. ‘Aye,’ he said, gesturing at the tables around them. ‘Been in every night this week, like some kinday f*****g guardian angel. Thinks I havenay noticed.’ He puffed up, and wiped at the top of his collar like there were crumbs on it. ‘I isnay putting up with him. Big Pat, my arse. He’s no the big man in my pub and he’d do well to remember that.’ Every time he thought about Pat, his arrogance, thinking he needed tay step in to sort out that fucker Donnelly, he felt the bile rise and sting in his throat. ‘Dirty sod has a few secrets he wouldnay want me talking about, ye get me?’ Harry pa

