‘Did I?’ He was watching her with those dark steady eyes, lounging against her porch wall like he had all day for this.

‘I’m expecting someone,’ she said, hoping he’d clear off. ‘Look, Jeb . . .’ Shauna was looking past him. His shabby mud-spattered pickup was there, parked on her pristine driveway. She looked at his grimy old mac and workman’s boots and suppressed a shudder.

‘Yeah? Something you want to say to me, Shauna?’

She swallowed and said: ‘Jeb, this ain’t working. You coming here. We’ve had fun in our time, but now it’s over. Truth is, I don’t want to see you or the other boys around here.’

‘Oh, you don’t?’ He was staring at her, holding her gaze. Shauna dropped her eyes first.

‘No, I don’t.’ She felt a surge of anger. They’d served their purpose, the Cleavers. Now all she wanted was to cut loose.

‘Suppose I want different?’ Jeb said, and stepped forward and pinned Shauna against the wall. She couldn’t move.

‘Let go of me,’ she said, her heart racing in her chest.

‘Let go?’ Jeb stared down into her face. ‘You don’t usually say that, gal. You’re usually up for all sorts.’

‘Well I’m not any more,’ snapped Shauna. ‘Look. I’ve got a husband now, a child. And I’ve . . . I’ve got a position to think of around here.’

‘A position?’ He let her go and grinned at that. ‘Yeah, I know what position you like.’

‘Look,’ said Shauna, stung by his mirth. She was a member of the tennis club now, and active in local charities. She was doing stuff that counted, and people looked up to her for it. ‘We’re respectable people these days, me and Josh. And you? You fucking Cleavers? You’re just like dogs after a bitch in heat, the lot of you.’

Jeb’s grin dropped away. ‘You think that, do you?’

Shauna nodded, holding his gaze with an effort. ‘Yeah. I do. So leave me alone, will you? Just piss off.’

59

59

‘The girls have invited me over,’ said Shauna one morning at breakfast.

Josh looked up dully. Here he was with this stunning woman, his wife, and still he was dreaming night after night about a girl he’d lost, his first love. He straightened, poured more coffee. He’d wanted to tell her about visiting Mum’s grave back in February and his talk with Trace, but he knew she’d get prune-faced and angry about it. She hated any mention of their old life. Baby Connor was sitting there, sprinkling the tablecloth and the floor with food. Then Connor bashed himself in the eye with a piece of toast and he let out a wail.

‘What you done, you little jotter?’ said Josh, not thinking, using the Romany word for ‘monkey’. He scooped his son up in his arms.