He tried to reassure her. Slowly, they got back the physical bond that had once drawn them so close together, and she would endure his kisses and caresses, but balked at going further, refused to spend the night with him, and that frustrated him.

One day he took her into the bedroom of his hotel suite and showed her the bolster running down the length of it that he’d placed there. Claire looked at it, then at him.

‘Boxing’s all about discipline,’ said Josh, pulling her close to him. ‘You see that?’ He pointed to the bed. ‘You can sleep with me. And I won’t cross that middle line. You know me. Do you believe me?’

Claire gazed into his eyes. ‘Yes. I believe you.’

‘Stay with me tonight then. Please.’

So Claire stayed, and Josh didn’t cross the middle line.

All too often, Shauna was on the phone to him, summoning him back to England to get his morning suit for the wedding fitted, and asking for his help on cooked-up household problems. A radiator off the wall. A bust boiler. She even wanted his advice on the bloke who trimmed the hedges, because he’d just hiked up his prices.

‘Fire him,’ said Josh coldly. ‘Get another one in.’

‘Yeah, but you know how it is with these people,’ she wheedled. ‘They see a woman on her own and they take advantage.’

Josh wondered who the fuck would have the balls to take advantage of Shauna Flynn. He also wondered if Jeb Cleaver was still on the scene. Shauna was a highly sexed woman and had to be getting her kicks somewhere, as she damned sure wasn’t getting a thing off him. Probably she had Jeb round there fucking her while he’d been away earning their money, the filthy mare. He didn’t want her, the very idea made him want to puke: he wouldn’t fuck her with someone else’s dick, much less his own. And Jeb Cleaver? He promised himself that one day soon, when all this business with Aysha had died down, he would sort that bastard out quietly, once and for all.

‘You have to come back,’ she said, over and over. ‘The suit needs altering, and that takes time, and the wedding’s not far off now and Aysha will want you to look your best . . .’

Shit. ‘All right,’ he said, aware that she was yanking his chain. He knew – and of course Shauna knew it too – that he hadn’t been a great father to Aysha over the years. So he had to do the wedding stuff, see her off into married life in style. ‘I’ll be back Tuesday, OK?’

She was satisfied with that. And as he put the phone down, he thought: Now I’ve got to tell Claire.