He was shaking his head. ‘What the fuck?’

‘It’s true. You can’t deny it. Mum don’t know. I know she doesn’t. I suppose the poor cow thinks you might marry her one day. But you won’t. Will you?’

Donny shot out a hand and grasped her chin. It hurt.

‘You don’t ever say any of that to anyone,’ he said.

‘She’s your dirty little secret, my mum, isn’t she?’ said Angel. And I’ve seen your wife and your wife has seen me. She didn’t dare say that, though; suddenly he looked furious.

Donny leaned in closer.

‘Funny little Angel,’ he murmured. ‘So quiet, so shy, but you’ve got some backbone, haven’t you? You must have, to say these things to me. You’re nothing like your mother. She’s half-crazy, flighty as hell, but not you. You’re different altogether, aintcha?’

‘Don’t say that about Mum,’ said Angel.

‘Why? It’s the truth. She’s a drunken whore. And you’re a bit of a whore too.’

Oh Christ! Hadn’t Dora said exactly that before Angel and Donny left tonight?

‘I’m not a whore,’ she gasped out, feeling tears of rage start in her eyes.

‘No? But I touched you, and you liked it. I saw that in your eyes. Just like I’m going to touch you now.’

‘No! Don’t,’ said Angel, but he was sliding a hand under the pink silk dress, pushing aside her underwear, probing at her with hard, hurtful fingers.

Angel shoved against him, but it was no use; he was too strong. Then her hand was on the door handle and she fell out into the street, sobbing with fear and anger. He shouted something, but she wasn’t listening. She struggled upright and ran on into the flats, into what passed for safety.

Outside their flat door, she paused, shaking, swiping at her tears, trying to gather herself. Then she put her key in the lock and all at once Donny’s hand was on hers. Angel let out a shriek that was instantly muffled by his other hand clamping itself over her mouth.

Now she was jammed up against the wall beside the door, his body pressing down the whole length of hers. Her wide terrified eyes stared into his.

‘You are a whore,’ he said, very low so that only she could hear it. ‘What’s more, you’re my whore. Just like your mother was. Never forget it. And you stay away from my wife and my kids. They’re pure, you got that? Pure and clean. I don’t want them ever touched by filth like you. Or by Christ I’ll wring your bloody neck. You got that?’

Angel managed to nod.

‘Good,’ said Donny, and reached out and shoved open the door to the flat.

He stepped inside, pulling Angel in after him and shutting the door after them. The lights were low in here, and the TV was blaring. Donny walked over and turned it off. On the couch, Dora was fast asleep, snoring. The voddy bottle was empty on the floor. She’d still be there in the morning, they both knew that.