Donna’s mouth dropped open in shock. ‘What? What do you mean?’

Georgio could hear the strain in her voice, see it in her face, and still he carried on speaking even though he knew he was being unfair. Seeing her with the blonde girl had frightened him. He was shit-scared in case the girl ever saw any of his other visitors and mentioned them to Donna. It was this fear that kept him speaking against his better judgement.

‘You heard. I know you had a great time in Scotland. Have a nice shower in his flat, did you? Get in with you, did he? You always liked me slipping in a length in the shower, didn’t you, darlin’?’

She heard the words and registered them, but her own brain would not allow her to answer. She watched Georgio’s mouth moving and felt as if she had been punched heavily in the solar plexus.

‘I mean, let’s face it, girl. You had a weekend to get to know him, didn’t you? Was it any good, eh? Got a nice big one, has he?’

Donna began to stand up, her legs jittery and unstable. She couldn’t believe what her husband was saying to her, what filth he was spewing out at her as if she was a nothing, a nobody. Seeing her rise, Georgio grabbed her hand, squeezing the skin between his thick fingers until it hurt her.

‘Let me go, Georgio. I want to leave, let go of my hand.’ Her face was closed, her voice low, the words spoken through gritted teeth.

Georgio felt a wave of panic wash over him and opened his mouth in distress.

‘Sit down, Donna. Please, sit back down. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. Please, Donna, I’m begging you to sit back down.’

He stared into her white face, his own pleading with her to sit once more, to listen to what he had to say. Donna sat down, her heart hammering inside the emerald green suit, the first beads of nervous sweat appearing under her arms and across her chest.

Georgio’s voice was lower now, gentler.

‘I’m sorry, Don Don. Christ Almighty! I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. I’m so jealous of you, darlin’. I looked at you just now and I felt the most awful feeling of loss inside me, it was horrible. I suddenly visualised life without you. If you left me I’d die inside, Don Don. I would, I swear before God. I couldn’t go on. Thinking of you, looking like you do, with Alan Cox. I know him, Donna, he’s a slag. I know he’s me mate but women don’t stand a chance with him once he starts his antics—’