He left her with that, and headed back to the workshop. Unsure where to go from there, Marie pulled a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. Behind her, someone wolf-whistled, and she snapped her head round to see which one of Evan’s loutish workmates was taking the piss. But the whistle hadn’t been aimed at her, she realized; it was for the woman wearing stiletto heels, a short skirt and low-cut top, who was unlocking the door directly facing the entrance to the workshop.

Recognizing her, Marie’s blood boiled, and she turned on her heel and marched back up the alleyway, yelling, ‘Oi, you! Laura, or whatever your name is, I want a word!’

‘Me?’ Laura Weston hesitated and gave her a bemused look. ‘About what?’

‘My husband,’ spat Marie. ‘I should have known he’d go crawling back for more when he’s got them under his nose day in day out!’ She jabbed a finger at Laura’s enormous breasts.

‘You what?’ Laura almost laughed in her face. ‘I haven’t got a clue who you’re talking about, sweetheart, but I think you’ve got the wrong person.’

‘Don’t pretend you don’t know him when I caught you with him in the pub,’ Marie bellowed, oblivious to the men chuckling as they watched the show from the workshop doorway.

‘Oh, yeah . . .’ Laura drew her head back and smirked. ‘I remember you now. Evan’s crazy bitch wife.’

‘Where is he?’ Marie demanded. ‘What’s the address? I said what’s the fucking ADDRESS?’

‘First off, you’d best stop yelling in my face before I punch your lights out,’ Laura warned. ‘And, second off, I haven’t got a clue where he is, so quit making a show of yourself.’

‘Liar!’ Marie hissed, her body quivering with rage. ‘You told me you’d been screwing him, so don’t bother denying it now!’

‘I said I could have, if I’d wanted him,’ Laura corrected her. ‘But I was only winding you up, you dozy cow. What did you expect after chucking my drink in my face?’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘I don’t really care what you believe,’ Laura said dismissively. ‘And if you don’t mind, I’ve got a showroom to open.’

‘JUST TELL ME WHERE HE IS!’ Marie wailed.

‘I . . . don’t . . . know,’ Laura repeated slowly, tiring of the conversation. ‘But he’s not with me, ’cos I’m spoken for.’ She held up her left hand and flashed an engagement ring at Marie. Then, giving a tight smile, she walked inside the building and slammed the door shut.