Imelda was in one of her jealous rages and Delroy was determined not to let her cause him any trouble; he loved her with a passion, but she knew better than anyone that he could never be completely faithful. ‘Stop it, Mel, I mean it. This is a fucking stupid enterprise, and we both know it. I love you, and you will always be my number one woman. But if you cause murders for any length of time, I will fucking leave – I’ll walk out. I love you and my boy more than life itself, but I will not be a part of all this shit. The girl came for a job, no more and no less. If I was on the nest with someone else, do you really think I would be stupid enough to let you know about it? Would have them nearby? Give me some credit, for fuck’s sake. Now, please, let this drop.’

Imelda looked at the man she had loved since the first time she had laid eyes on him, and she knew that no matter how she felt, she had to let this go. Delroy would not let himself be dragged into any arguments about his fidelity, he had told her that from day one. She knew he loved her but, as time went on, it was getting harder and harder to overlook his failings. She knew in her heart that if he was seeing someone else, he respected her far too much to ever put her in a position where she might actually come into contact with the person. Oh, there’d been whispers over the years, but never anything concrete. Then, two days ago, she had seen him dropping off a girl at the club in Brixton. It had been like a physical blow. The girl had been young, white and lovely. Imelda had felt so bad because the girl had been fresh and young, and Imelda couldn’t compete. She hated herself for letting him know she had seen him, for letting him know how much she cared, but she couldn’t help herself.

Delroy understood her fears; he knew Imelda so well, but he was not a man to be curtailed in any way. He loved her but, in all fairness, he had never promised her fidelity and he wasn’t going to start now. He wouldn’t lie to her either – not unless he really felt he had to. Even so, he hated to see the hurt on her face, the pain of betrayal in her eyes.

‘I love you, girl, you know that. You’re my woman, the mother of my child, and you know that there ain’t no one who can compete with that.’

Imelda couldn’t answer him because, for the first time ever, she was convinced that he was lying to her.

Chapter Fifty-Seven