Suki’s eyes were suddenly brimming with tears. ‘And you were a virgin? That’s awful. You must have been so frightened.’

‘I was.’

‘Did you know them? I mean . . .’

‘Can we not talk about them?’ said Claire with a shudder. ‘Their name was Cleaver. That’s all I can say. Later maybe I’ll tell you. But for now . . .’

‘No. Sure. I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry,’ said Suki, the tears spilling over. She wiped at them irritably. She sniffed. ‘I just wanted to say, look – I’ll leave. You don’t have to see me or speak to me. I understand now. I really do. And I won’t stay.’

Claire’s eyes were filling too. The girl’s sincerity moved her. This whole thing was too much. She thought of her own family and how over the years she had blocked them from her mind because she had to do that, had to keep them safe. Now here was Eva and Pally’s grandchild, and Trace’s niece, part of their family. And it was so tragic. They would never know her, or she them. Suki got to her feet.

‘I’m sorry – real sorry – that you went through that,’ she gulped. ‘I truly am. And please believe me when I say that I wish you well.’

‘Suki . . .’ Claire started, getting up.

‘It’s OK. Goodbye, Claire,’ said Suki, and she left the room.

Suki was at her apartment a week later, doing the hoovering and wondering where she was going with her life. She’d left the club, and she knew she had to find another job soon, to keep a roof over her head.

She almost didn’t hear the knock at the door over the roar of the Hoover. When she did, flustered and hot, she opened it and got a shock to see Claire Milo standing there holding a paper bag. She stared in surprise, and Claire gave a tentative smile.

‘I brought Danish.’ She held up the bag. ‘Can I come in? And will you please come back to work?’

86

86

Another fight, another victory. Josh was getting tired of it all, but it paid, and paid in bundles. The Greek boys, the Constantinou brothers Spiro and Nikos, had become firm friends of his, and they came on back to congratulate him after the fight. They’d won big again. He was cut, bleeding, aching. Tomorrow all the bruises would come out. He was thinking about going home, to England. Thinking about seeing Connor. And . . . yeah, all right, Aysha too. But . . . there was Shauna.

‘Come on, we’ll go out and celebrate your win,’ they said.

‘Guys . . .’ started Josh. He didn’t want to go anywhere, not tonight. He wanted to fall into a nice big soft bed, and sleep – that was all. Maybe he really was getting too old for the fight game. But as usual they jollied him along.

‘No arguments! Come on, get washed up and dressed.’