‘If you’ll take a seat, Miss . . . ?’ said the receptionist.

‘Claire. I’m Claire Milo and this is my daughter.’

The older woman turned toward the seating area. Connor was struck by two things before hell erupted – that his father’s mistress was prettier than his brief glimpse of her at the graveyard or in the photographs had suggested. And her daughter was a beauty. Her eyes were huge, and they were the clear pale powder-blue of the Man City strip, set under finely arched brows. Her lips were full. There was a Marilyn-type mole, a beauty spot, on her left cheek.

‘You fucking cheeky bitch!’ erupted Shauna, springing out of her seat, her hands forming claws, her nails needle-sharp. Claire cowered from her.

‘Excuse me,’ started the receptionist in alarm.

‘You bitch, you fucking cow!’ said Shauna, launching herself at Claire.

‘What the hell . . . ?’ Aysha burst out, also jumping to her feet.

The receptionist was on the phone, half out of her seat, talking rapidly.

‘Mum! Fuck’s sake!’ Connor was up too now, grabbing his mother around the waist while her hands flailed inches from the Milo woman’s face. Suki backed up, alarmed. Shauna looked demented, like she wanted to kill Claire Milo with her bare hands.

‘Let me fucking go!’ Shauna was screaming at him. ‘I’m going to flatten the cow.’

‘Sit down, for God’s sake,’ said Connor to his mother. ‘Christ, is this really going to help anything?’

He couldn’t believe the woman had summoned the nerve to show up here today. He turned angry eyes on her and her daughter while holding on tight to Shauna. ‘What the fuck are you two doing here?’ he demanded.

Claire, visibly shaken, her eyes still on Shauna, gulped and said, ‘I got a letter asking me to attend the reading of Josh’s will. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset anyone . . .’

‘You what?’ roared Shauna. Claire flinched. ‘Don’t you say his name, don’t you bloody dare! If you didn’t want to cause upset then you shouldn’t have been fucking my husband, you low-life cunt.’

‘Sit down,’ said Connor, manhandling his mother back on to her seat. ‘Come on. This ain’t helping. Aysha, sit down. And you.’ He looked at the younger blonde. ‘Whatever your fucking name is . . .’

‘It’s Suki,’ she said shakily.

‘Like I care. Sit down.’

‘What’s going on here?’ asked a hefty, sharply suited and red-faced man, coming thundering down the stairs and into the reception area. It was the family solicitor, James McCready. He looked around at them all.

‘Nothing,’ said Connor, staring at the row of seated women. Aysha looked shocked. Suki’s eyes were wide with fright. Claire was trembling but standing her ground. Mum looked like she was going to explode. ‘Nothing at all.’

‘If there is going to be any trouble, I won’t go on with the reading,’ said McCready.