A trail of amber liquid slid down his chin making a lazy trail down over his stubble where it dripped from his chin onto the collar of his old discoloured t-shirt. the bar tender chuckled.

"Big plans fella?"

Tommy wiped at his chin like a messy child ignoring the bar tender completely and stalked over to his table in the back. The big TV on the wall opposite him had gone from showing a very boring darts match to a mind numbingly tedious snooker game. Idly he wondered if anyone would object to him hurling his glass at the screen by way of changing the channel. No one was even watching the screen as it flicked from green, to black, to blue, they probably wouldn't even notice. His hand gripped the glass tight but instead of throwing it across the room he tipped it back down his throat. Even if the place was one tiny step up from a shit hole, and it was a shit hole, he liked drinking there, even if the regulars didn't kick up a stink at the senseless vandalism the bar tender would probably have something to say about it.

How long had he been thinking about the television?

He looked at his glass. Empty. Figured. Time had been escaping him a lot lately.

"Too busy away with the fairies, thought you'd have grown out of it by now." his mother had teased with a fond smile that thinly veiled underlying concern.

Tommy wished it was as carefree as it sounded. What he wouldn't give for harmless musings or a fantastical daydream where he played the good guy, a Knight who beat off monsters and saved the Princess. But Tommy was no pure hearted Knight and in his daydreams he didn't whisk the Princess to safety instead he let her slip through his fingers and now she was off somewhere in another Castle sleeping with another Prince, or Knight, or whoever. Tommy didn't want to think about it. He wanted to get drunk, to saturate his brain in enough alcohol to wash away all the memories he had of her. He wanted to drink until he couldn't recall the sound of her voice. He wanted to black out the feel of her hands on his skin and her lips on his.

It'd been a year, to the day, since he'd dishonourably left her and he didn't need to check a calendar to be sure because as if the universe wasn't done kicking him in the head, today was also the day his father got out of Prison.

The great Michael McConnel, Ireland's Golden child was coming home after an extended stay at her majesty's pleasure. Back at camp the buzz of excitement was audible as he'd marched out of the gates and down the short drive to the dual carriageway that sung to him sleep at night. Nobody stopped him and asked where he was going, enquired as to whether he was going to be there when his father got home. Everyone just assumed that the McConnel boys would be toasting his heroic return like everyone else.

He would rather have the shit kicked out of him.

Release was set for midday so Tommy hit the betting shops placing on some dog races then laying down a bigger bet for a Derby scheduled for the end of the week - he didn't usually gamble but in an effort to get out of his own head he decided to do something out of character. He didn't expect to win - the kind of gambling he usually did erred on the side of an obvious win (fixing was such an ugly word) - but for a silly minute he let himself entertain the idea of doing just that. It wasn't much to get excited about but the sum wasn't the point. The point was to do something like that without the direction of his family, without their invisible hands guiding it towards a predictable end. It was about control. Autonomy. A small demonstration of the dominion he had over his life. A minute bit of evidence that he could survive without his family, that his genes wouldn't always dictate his life. If he could do something like this and feel okay leaving it to chance then maybe he could one day do something bigger.

He'd thought this way once before but at the last hurdle fallen. Would he always fall er would he one day sail over and across the finish line?

Tanya, one of the only young female bar tenders in the joint, placed a beer in front of him. Moisture wicked down the side of the glass and formed a ring on the table. He looked up at her in silent question. She gestured to a stocky man sitting underneath the dart board just pass the bar. He raised his own drink and smiled.

Must know me da.

At least he hoped it was in toast to his father and not a form of flirting. He sipped on the cold liquid letting it freeze his teeth. A black and grey lump collapsed into the seat opposite him and without preamble snapped. "Where the fuck have you been?"

Tommy gave his company a blank look. "Around." he replied at length.

Colin, his younger brother by four years, scoffed at him with disgust. "Dad's home." Tommy nodded in response. "You weren't there and don't think he didn't notice because you were the first thing he asked about when he got in the car."

Tommy snorted amused. He bet Colin loved that. His brother, unlike himself, was in awe of their father. Hero worshipped him ever since they were children and the passion had only grown as he did. If there was anyone, anything Colin wanted to be in life it was just like his Daddy.

"What'd you tell him?"

"That you were taking care of some business."

Tommy was surprised Colin hadn't taken the chance to further drive a wedge between his father and him but instead of letting him know he was mildly impressed by Colin's restraint he grunted.

Colin frowned at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you? You should have been there."

"He should have been here." Tommy countered easily. This conversation was a repeat.

"Tommy-"

"If you came here to chew me a new one consider it done. You can either stay and have a drink with me or go back and tell everyone I'm not done handling my business yet." his voice was callous his words poison tipped and stinging the wrong person but Tommy was embittered by the memories of the day and he couldn't stop himself from lashing out like a lion with a sore paw.

"Whatever's crawled up your arse will you shit it out already I'm so bored of this routine." Colin snapped grabbing Tommy's drink and downing the whole thing.

Tommy felt a grin pull at his mouth the a laugh sprung from his throat startling them both. Colin's own chuckle was more out of confusion than amusement but it was enough to clear the strained air between them and when Tommy was done the shadows in his eyes had lightened. "Next rounds on you."

"Colin wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I need to talk to you about something."

Talking was the last thing Tommy wanted to do right now but he figured the longer they sat there the better the chance of his father not being around when he finally strolled home. Colin might have been excited for Michaels return but Tommy wasn't confident he could put on the right face and say the right words convincingly enough. The last thing they needed was he and his father rolling around on the dirt while the older McConnel raged about him not being too old to learn about respect.

"The floor is yours."

Colin looked around furtively, a bit of an exaggeration in Tommy's opinion but his brother loved all this cloak and dagger shit. "Not here I'll tell ya outside." Tommy watched as he got up noisily and weaved in and out of the close set tables to push through the double doors. Reluctantly he stood and followed his brother.

Cold air bit his cheeks the moment he stepped out onto the crowded North London streets. People barged past each other politely mumbling half hearted and unheard apologies as they rushed to catch packed tubes and slow buses home. A woman in a bright red coat made to push past Tommy, paused, gave him a slow smile then crossed to the bar over the road. He glanced back at the gold lettering of the Blind Beggar then to the glossy stained glass writing of the White Hart. He could see the appeal if you wanted to pay through the nose for watered down cocktails and craft beers you could buy cheaper in Sainsbury's. Personally Tommy liked the stale smoke smell of the Beggar and the way the bar tender didn't roll his eyes every time you wanted a re-fill. He withdrew a packet of smokes gave one to Colin then put them back in his pocket.

"Go on then," he drawled hunching his shoulders over to protect his ears from the frigid wind, "what did you wanna talk about?"

"Diamonds."

"Diamonds?" Tommy repeated in blank comprehension.

"Yeah." Colin nodded his nostrils flaring wide as he sniffed violently. His gut sank as Tommy realised he recognised this look. It was the frenetic one he got when he was high. This look was often accompanied by a bad idea Colin would insist they listen to. Tommy hated this version of his little brother.

"What about Diamonds?" he asked slowly.

"I need your help stealing them obviously."

"Obviously." Tommy muttered his eye catching on the red coated woman again. She slipped through the White Hart doors and stood on the street smoking staring at him through the crowds still making their way home. In the fading light her coat was a beacon, her blonde hair was highlighted in the dim light glowing through the windows but her face was losing distinction. He couldn't see the colour of her eyes, whether they were blue or brown, he couldn't see the shape of her lips or the slope of her nose. All he could see was the shape of her and vague details that meant nothing when all he was really doing was picturing another woman. A woman who would definitely not be standing outside a bar in London.

"Are you listening to me." Colin shoved him.

"Fucking Christ Col-" he glared at the red droplet that was trailing towards his brothers lip.

Colin wiped a hand underneath his nose smearing the blood into the bit of dark fluff he called a moustache. Tommy wondered when was he going to shave that thing? He looked even more of a boy with it than without it. "Tommy-"

"What is wrong with you huh?" he stared at the blood stain in disgust.

"Just listen-"

"Listen to what? You haven't said a bloody thing since we got out of here and I'm freezing my nuts off!"

"You're not listening to me you're too busy eye fucking the blonde over the road." Colin pointed right at her and Tommy turned his back to the crowd and glared at him. "Who are you looking for Tommy?" Tommy glanced at the ground then back at his brother, his lips drawn tight enough to make them disappear. "Fine," Colin sighed, "don't tell me but stop being such a fucking space cadet and listen. Fredrik Haus is about to come in possession of some rather dirty, very expensive diamonds and we're going to steal them."

Tommy blinked at him not quite sure he understood what his brother was saying. In fact he was rather hoping he hadn't heard his brother properly because the idea was so ridiculous, so idiotic. "Are you fucking serious?"

"Of course I'm fucking serious!" Colin exploded startling a small man getting out of a cab. He glared at the guy "What the fuck are you looking at?" the man gaped then slammed the door on the cab and quickly shot off across the street into the White Hart. Tommy glanced over his shoulder to find the woman with the Red coat had disappeared.

"It wasn't her anyway," he told himself.

"Do you know who Haus works for?"

"Of course I do." Colin spat clearly insulted.

"Just how high are you?" Tommy peered at him bewildered.

"Come on man. They won't even know it was us that did it. Da owes someone on the inside a favour and this is what they're asking."

Tommy shook his head, "No way. I'm not fucking suicidal." He wasn't going to stick his neck out like this, not for that man and not against those people. Colin was the one with daddy issues here, he could solve them by himself.

Colin leant forward his eyes filled with stubborn fury . "We owe him Tommy."

"I don't owe him anything!" Tommy growled. "We don't owe him a fucking thing!" Tommy turned back to the pub his hand resting on the tarnished gold handle of their favourite scummy haunt. "Go home Colin, Rose'll be waiting." he said over his shoulder before slipping inside.