Claire lay down, holding him tight. ‘I’m still scared of her. Of Shauna. I shouldn’t be. I’m a grown woman now. But when someone does something like that to you . . .’

‘Yeah. I know.’

‘It haunted me, Josh. For a long, long time.’

‘I know. But, honey, I’m here to protect you now. You’re safe. I’m going to get the divorce done and then I am never, ever going to leave you again.’

116

116

Aysha found that working in the scrapyard was no more exciting than the dental depot or the travel agency, but Connor and Benedict found her administrative experience helpful and it was soon agreed that she should become a director of the company like them, which pleased her.

This cold November morning, the blokes out in the yard whistled when she drove in and parked up. As usual, she ignored them, passing by the piles of old motors, the crane with its motor roaring and the huge crusher, then past the line of big steel containers and the dumpsters. She went over to the Portakabin that served as the office, tried the door. No one in yet. Breath pluming out in the frosty air, she rummaged in her handbag for the spare, ignoring the catcalls and lewd suggestions still coming her way, then unlocked the door and went in.

It looked like nothing, this little place, but it was neat inside. Everything tidy, with a small electric heater to warm the place up on cool days. She flicked it on to high. Then she went to her desk, took off her coat, hung it up, put the coffee on to percolate. She sat down and saw that the dopey office junior they’d hired last week and would probably fire next week had left the adverts that should have gone out yesterday in the in-tray, undone.

Aysha stood up, went to the filing cabinet: it was locked. Her irritation with the world in general exploded then. She threw her arms in the air and yelled: ‘Christ alive! Who do I have to fuck to get anything done around here?’

‘Me,’ said a male voice behind her. ‘If you absolutely insist.’

Aysha whirled round, a hand to her chest. Connor’s mate Benedict was standing there in the open doorway.

‘Shit! You startled me,’ she said.

Benedict smiled and closed the door. ‘Problems?’

‘Adverts haven’t gone out. Last night was the deadline.’

He went over to his desk. Hung up his coat, sat down. ‘I’ll phone them, see what I can do.’