The sun rose on a drab street, on a non-descript estate in Newcastle. The spirit of community had been knocked out of the street by the death of a teenager seven years ago and it has never recovered; the grieving family still live at 56.

Mary is pottering around the house because John will be released from prison today; there will be no celebration, it is just one more reminder that Darrel will never return. Josie, her daughter, has been very bitter since the death of her brother and does not understand why her father was put away for defending his family; she cannot get out of her head the jeering as her brother was kicked to death by the gang. Her boyfriend Ryan had also been hurt that dreadful night and she wants revenge.

John makes his way from his cell to a counter where a prison officer is asking him to sign for his belongings. John takes them without any fuss and doesn’t bother to check the contents of a brown envelope containing his personal defects.

Standing outside the prison John finds himself on a empty street breathing in the cold morning air. A figure approaches, she looks different he can tell she is bitter. Josie hugs him and then looks him up and down. ‘Let’s get you home.’

Mary and John stare at each other they give each other a quick embrace and then sit down on either side of the kitchen table while Josie plonks two cracked mugs down, tea slops onto the table; John plays with it momentarily.

‘How’s things?’ asks John.

‘Fine,’ mumbles Mary.

‘Just fine?’

‘What do you want me to say?’

‘Forget it,’ says John. He stares around the kitchen; it needs a lick of paint. It can wait.

‘We need to get even,’ blurted Josie.

‘No,’ insisted John

‘I know you are not ready for anything like that,’ insisted Josie, ‘but we need to bring closure for Mum and Darrel. Look at her Dad! Look at Mum!’

John looked across the table at Mary, tears came to his eyes; he wipes his nose with the back of his hand, ‘Now I’m settled. I just don’t think I have any fight left in me, I really don’t.’
‘I was going to ask Mum if she knew anyone but she thought you might,’ pleaded Josie. John shot a glance at Mary who looked away.

‘Why?’

‘I need to know, John. I need to know,’ she trailed off as she began to sob. ‘My son, our son, wasn’t a bad boy. How could they do that to him? John I am sick … it’s like something is eating away inside me. I just want it to go away.’ She buried her face in her arms as she sobbed uncontrollably; her whole body wracked with the sobs.

‘Okay love, okay,’ he said patting her gently on the shoulders, ‘I’ll see to it.’ He turned to Josie ‘I’ll sort it tonight, trust me.’