‘I want to divorce him,’ Aysha told Shauna one day in the kitchen.

‘You can’t,’ said Shauna. ‘If we don’t know where he is or what he’s up to, how is that possible?’

Aysha’s eyes hardened and her mouth was set in a grim line.

‘Then I’ll change my name by deed poll. I don’t want to be a Minghella any more. I’m going to change my name back to Flynn.’

And that’s what Aysha did. Once again she was Aysha Flynn, but an Aysha Flynn who was marked by life. The carefree and in love Aysha Flynn was gone. Now she was a blank-faced woman who eyed the world with dislike.

She caught Connor in the yard office one day. His mate Benedict was in there too, but she ignored him. Men! She detested them now. ‘Connor, I’m going mad with nothing to do. Give me a job in the office sorting the paperwork or something, I don’t care what.’

‘Jesus. All right then,’ said Connor.

Anything to keep her happy. And it would be good to have her here in the yard where he could keep an eye on her. Aysha wasn’t herself. More and more, she was reminding him of Mum – and not in a good way. Mum was a control freak and she could be scary. Her rages were legend and she bore grudges like, forever. When she got hopping mad and she stared at you with those dark, rock-hard gypsy eyes, you knew you were in deep, deep shit. Aysha was starting to get that same look, and he didn’t like it.

‘This is nice,’ said Shauna to Josh one evening as they sat together watching telly.

‘What?’ Josh had been gazing at the screen and not seeing it. Thinking of Claire. Wondering how long before he could get back to her.

‘This. You and me here, together.’ Shauna looked at him. She could see he was distracted, maybe a bit bored. Josh was a man of action; slumped on a sofa wasn’t him, not at all. ‘You’ve not used our gym lately.’

‘Yeah, I have.’

What was she, his keeper? He had the gym in the basement here, but he preferred to go to the local public one because it got him out of the house and away from her. And on his way out yesterday, he’d passed a messy old pickup truck parked at the end of the road. Sitting in the cab was a big bloke with a scruffy beard. He looked sort of familiar. Jesus! Was that Jeb Cleaver?

Well, let the bastard have her. They deserved each other.