Josh drove on, past the fairground, and found himself in a huddle of cars and caravans. The dogs started barking the minute he switched off the engine. He didn’t get out of the car, he wasn’t a fool. Some of them would be roaming loose, patrolling the site. As he sat there, a black-faced Alsatian came and stood its big forepaws against his window and let loose a thunderous barking.

Josh leaned on the car horn. It didn’t deter the dog, who was quickly joined by another, and then another, all surrounding the car and baying for Josh’s blood. Josh sat there and fought the urge to open the door and let them in to tear at his flesh. Maybe he deserved that. Maybe he would even welcome it. If Claire was gone from him, then the best part of his life was over.

Then he thought of last night, and Shauna. He’d felt so down, so lost. He knew he’d had her, knew damned well he’d taken comfort in a female body. It could have been anybody’s. Turned out, it was Shauna’s. As soon as it was done, he regretted it. Somehow, he had to go on with his life. Right now, he didn’t know how.

Finally, after minutes of Josh leaning on the horn, the dogs going demented, a light came on in one of the bigger vans, illuminating the windows. A curtain was shoved aside and someone peered out. Then the door was flung open and a bulky man came down the steps, zipping his trousers and pulling his braces up over his vast, grey-vested beer gut.

‘What the fuck’s happening here?’ he asked, swiping angrily at the dogs as he came.

They stopped barking, turning away and loping off into the semi-darkness.

Josh wound down his window. ‘Mr Pole? Mr Linus Pole?’ he asked, looking at the man who peered in at him. Pole was red in the face as Father Christmas. He was plump, with thin greying hair, an aggressive hazel-eyed stare and a big waxed handlebar moustache.

‘Who wants him? It’s the middle of the effing night.’

‘Josh Flynn,’ said Josh.

‘Who? Flynn, you say?’

‘I beat Matty O’Connor in a fair fight yesterday evening.’

‘I know Matty. Course I do. Everyone does. Man’s a legend.’

‘Well, he’s beat.’

‘You’re fucking kidding me.’

‘No, I ain’t.’

Now Pole was looking at him differently. ‘Well – what can I do for you, Mr Flynn?’

Josh shrugged. ‘Where there’s fairs there’s fights. I can beat any man you got on this site, Mr Pole. Set it up and I’ll prove it.’

Pole relaxed a notch. He’d set up more fights than he’d had hot dinners; they were always good earners, and he liked to earn.

‘You ain’t seen the boys we got on this site,’ said Pole.