Alan heard the yearning in her voice, and realised what he had said. He should have remembered all Georgio had told him over the years about their quest for a child. Even adoption was out because of his nefarious activities. He could have taken his foot and slammed it painfully into his own mouth. Stopping the car, he turned to face her.

‘I’m sorry, Donna. That was uncalled-for. I just wasn’t thinking. Forgive me.’

She stared out at the blurred landscape and forced back the tears. If Alan Cox knew how she still yearned to hold a baby, to snuggle it into her arms and know it was hers! She would gladly give up everything she possessed for that.

He placed his hand on her arm and she shrugged it off.

‘I’m fine, Alan. Let’s get going, shall we? Now I have been put well and truly in my place I will remember to act the subservient little woman in future.’

Alan felt an urge to turn her around and pull her into his arms but he knew it would be fatal.

‘Shall I tell you something, Donna?’

‘Would it stop you if I said no?’

‘I’m being serious, darlin’. You bring out the worst in me, I don’t know why but you do. There’s something about your whole demeanour that irritates me in the extreme. You’re so sure of yourself, you look down on everyone, yet you need these people to get your husband - who incidentally is doing eighteen years - out of nick. You are mixing with the scum of the earth for that one reason. You look down your pretty little nose at them, yet you are no better, not now. You were before you became embroiled in all this, but not any more. You’re as crooked as them now and the sooner you realise that and stop trying to fucking be Mother Theresa of Alcatraz, the sooner me and you will get on.

‘Like I was saying before, the average housewife has the housewife mentality: the man in her life is what brought her low. Remember that, love, because it applies to you as well. You don’t go to Bingo, you go to fancy restaurants and clubs. You don’t have a beano to Southend now and again, you go to the Caribbean. Same meat, Donna, different fucking gravy. Now you’re making me all annoyed again. Why the hell is that!’

Donna turned on him, her eyes blazing.

‘I don’t know why I irritate you, Mr Cox, but I can honestly say that the feeling is mutual. As for all this old rubbish about housewives, what are you, some kind of sociologist? I have a degree in Sociology, you may be interested to know, and I never read anything remotely like the crap I’ve heard today.’