Donna’s legs were trembling as the police officer opened the cell door.

‘You can have ten minutes, love.’

She gave him a tired smile and walked into the cramped coolness of the cell. Georgio was sitting on the small bed, his head in his hands.

‘Georgio . . . Oh, Georgio!’ The crack in her voice seemed to make him spring from the bed. Then she was in his arms and he was whispering to her, his voice drenched with tears.

‘I didn’t do it, Don Don, I swear to you. That bastard Laughton fitted me up, Laughton and Wilson. I can’t believe this is happening. Eighteen years, Don Don. Eighteen bastard years!’

Donna held him to her tightly, savouring the smell of him, the feel of him. He pushed his hands up under her skirt and caressed the flesh beneath. He was rough, urgent. All the time talking to her, at her. Needing to put into words what had happened as if that would make it real.

‘Oh, Don Don, what am I going to do, eh? They’ve tucked me up. I’ll see that Wilson dead! I’ll hear him screaming! That bastard lied through his teeth. He lied, Don Don. You believe me, don’t you? You believe me. If I didn’t have you, I’d die. I’d die inside, Don Don.’

She held him, remembering back over the years to when they had first met. He had called her Don Don then. He hadn’t called her that for years. In the still of the night, they had lain in bed together and he would whisper it to her, to make her laugh. Now it had an added significance. He was trying to hold on to the past, and it was breaking her heart. Tearing her up inside.

‘You can appeal,’ she said desperately. ‘Everything is circumstantial. Once we know what’s happening, we can appeal.’

He stood before her, looking down into her face. It hadn’t changed much over twenty years. He saw the tears on her dark lashes, the pain buried deep at the back of her eyes, and pushing his hands into her thick brown hair, he pulled her face up to his, kissing her with a fervour, a deep passion. A mark of ownership.

‘Don’t leave me, Donna. I couldn’t go on if I thought I didn’t have you.’

She shook her head in denial, as if he had accused her of leaving him already.

‘Promise me you’ll stand by me, no matter what happens? Promise me that, Donna. So I can take it with me, to keep me alive. Give me something to hold on to.’

‘I’ll never leave you, Georgio, never. We’ll get you out of this. Home again. You’ll be home again. Once we appeal . . .’

He cut off her words with his mouth, forcing his tongue between her lips. They heard the cell door open.