Donna thought for a moment. ‘What did they look like?’

Maeve made a face. ‘Big galoots with expensive suits and faces like a madman’s arse! Typical of Georgio’s friends if you like.’

Donna grasped Maeve’s hand. ‘Did they threaten you, actually threaten you?’

Maeve heard a steely note in Donna’s voice and she sighed. ‘You’re getting just like Georgio and Stephen, do you know that? A year ago you’d have stood and worried with me. Now you feel you want to make them pay. I can hear it in your voice, see it in your demeanour. Listen, Donna, get out of all this while you still have the chance. Let Georgio run everything from his prison cell. I’ve even lost the yearning to have him home. Don’t let him make you like he is, like Stephen is, like Donald Lewis is. That’s why they’re inside and we’re out here.’

‘Stephen’s not inside.’

Maeve shook her head. ‘Not yet maybe, but I know it’ll come. If not this year, then next. Stephen is like Georgio, an accident waiting to happen. Make sure it doesn’t happen to you.’

Donna was shocked at Maeve’s words and the truth of them. The thought of Ma and Pa Brunos getting a visit from Lewis’s heavies made her feel a redhot wave of pure rage; for a split second, she wanted to crush them, smash them. Never in her life had she felt like that before. Always the pacifist, always the voice of reason . . . Maeve was right. She was changing, and she wasn’t sure whether it was for the better or worse.

‘I’ll tell Georgio,’ she said now. ‘He’ll sort it out.’

Maeve smiled sadly. ‘Do you realise we’re not even pretending he’s innocent any more? And do you know what hurts me more than anything? Your acceptance of that fact. Knowing what he is now, instead of turning your back on him, you’re joining in with his wild schemes and his wants, Donna. You’re even selling this lovely house.’

She wiped a wrinkled hand across her brow. ‘Leave him, Donna, while you’re still young enough to get away. In another few years, time will have raced on. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about. Then it’ll be too late to follow your own road, because you’ll have followed his for so long the habit will be hard to break.’

‘Whatever he is, whatever he’s done,’ Donna said vehemently, ‘he is still my husband. He stood by me through miscarriages, upsets, and all sorts of traumas. I have to do the same for him now.’

Maeve shook her head once more. The sadness in her face was such that Donna too, felt an urge to cry.