Georgio grabbed her hand again, gently this time. ‘I’m sorry, Don Don. It’s being in here, with all these.’ He swept his hand out dramatically. ‘It makes you like them. It makes you full of hate inside. I shouldn’t be here, you know that as well as I do. When they bang us up of a night, I could scream the place down.’

His face was like a little boy’s, bewildered, unable to take in what was going on. It was a painfully handsome face, one that had captured her heart when she was a young girl, and her love and adoration of him had increased over the years. Until now, he’d been the very air she breathed. Without him, she felt she was nothing. With him, she was a somebody, Donna Brunos, wife of Georgio, the man everyone liked, wanted to be with, vied with each other to befriend. At least, they had until all this had happened . . .

As if reading her mind, Georgio asked: ‘Have you heard anything from the honourable town planner or the magistrate? My so-called friends.’

‘Not a word. Bunty and Harry cut me dead in the village.’ Donna shook her head sadly.

Georgio’s eyes narrowed. ‘Oh, they did, did they? I might open my trap about him yet - do what Wilson did. You ring him and tell him I want me stuff back. Say I have a buyer. Do that for me, will you? Say just that. Georgio wants his stuff, he’s got a buyer. Do that for me, Donna, promise?’ His face was dark, earnest.

‘What stuff? What are you talking about?’

Georgio waved a hand at her. ‘Never mind what stuff. When he tells you he’s got it, send Davey for it. He knows the score.’

Donna pushed her hair back off her face, a gesture she always used when agitated. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’

Georgio took a deep breath and held it, then kissed her on the cheek. ‘Forget what I said. It was temper talking. We had a few scams, nothing serious, but I was annoyed that he cut you dead like that. He has no right to judge me, he’s more crooked than a corkscrew. They all are. They make me sick.’

Donna watched her husband as he opened his KitKat. His big hands ripped the packaging apart.

‘Calm down,’ she said nervously. ‘Once we get to appeal, this will all be sorted out.’

Georgio laughed gently. ‘Oh, yeah, course it will.’