The fight left Sharon suddenly. She picked up the tracksuit top and put it back on wearily. This woman, this deluded woman, was a waste of space. It was pointless talking to her.

‘I have no idea where Big Lenny might be. Pissed somewhere, probably, frightened that he might get found out. He wasn’t that complimentary about you and your sex life – or lack of it shall I say. He’s probably shacked up with some young Tom somewhere.’

Sharon couldn’t resist the last barb even though she knew it was a cheap shot. She was well aware that Big Lenny was getting his just deserts and she was glad of it. She wanted him to hurt as he had made her hurt. She was toughening up at last and that was no bad thing; in fact it was about time. The world was a scary place for women, she understood that now. Oh, how she would like to burst that sanctimonious bitch’s bubble about her son’s real leanings. But she wouldn’t do it. She had to at least leave her some illusions. She just wasn’t about to admit that she knew Lesley’s husband was being paid out for his deeds. Pleading ignorance was the byword these days and she would abide by that rule.

‘I hope you never know another day’s peace, you vicious little whore. That will be my prayer, morning, noon and night – that you get your fucking comeuppance, young lady.’

Sharon laughed bitterly. ‘I might have known you would bring God into this. Well, He hates hypocritical old bags just as much as everyone else does. Now fuck off out of my house before I pick you up by the scuff of your scrawny neck and turf you out myself.’

She watched the woman walking away and she felt the urge to plant her foot firmly in Lesley Scott’s skinny, bony backside. Who the hell did she think she was?

When Lesley had left, Sharon went to the phone and rang her mother’s house.

‘Bring the boys over, Mum. The sooner we all get back to normal, the better.’