Paula watched in disbelief as Tommy pressed himself up against the woman in front of him. Her breath came in jerky gasps, and in her pocket she fingered the sharp edges of the condom packets. She wanted to stalk over there, spinning her arms around and punching out at the pair of them, all the while screaming expletives. In her mind, she said them, the worst words she could dredge from her vocabulary. Words that nice, classy married women didn’t use.

Words that Paula herself never said.

She wanted to do all this, but her legs were leaden.

‘’Scuse me, I’m on this machine.’ The voice was that of an elderly lady, nudging her way in, scared that Paula was going to take all the money out of the machine she’d spent so many hours feeding.

Fuck you, Paula wanted to shout at the innocent woman, and in her pockets her hands curled into fists. Instead, she allowed herself to be carefully prodded aside. Her legs started to move of their own accord, taking her towards them, her traitorous husband and the vicious slag in front of him. And all of a sudden, the words came in a torrent, and the intonation was pure, bitter fury.

‘You fucking bastard,’ she said as she reached them, and she was glad her voice didn’t betray her; it was low and guttural and rather quiet. Only the croupier caught her words, and he looked at her side-on, just a single quick warning glance.

They would throw her out of the casino if she made a scene. And Paula wasn’t the sort to make a show of herself. Years of preening and priming herself into the woman she was had ingrained that in her.

‘Uh…’ Tommy said as he swallowed and pulled away from Anna, stumbling into the table. ‘Just having some fun. Anna’s winning.’ He smiled lopsidedly, more drunk than she had ever known him. He didn’t even look ashamed, or embarrassed to have been caught in the act.

Paula switched her attention to Anna. The scarlet woman met her glare head-on, unflinching, uncaring.

‘You…’ She leaned in, really close to the pair of them now, not wanting to shout the word that she never, ever uttered but that right now was the only word that would do. ‘You pair of… of cunts.’

It seemed to sober Tommy, and his hand snapped out, grabbed her wrist. ‘Hey,’ he said sharply.

She pulled her arm free, a gasp emerging from her, incredulous that she had actually said the word. She was too far gone now, there was no turning back. She dug in the pocket of the coat of his that she was wearing and flung the condoms onto the roulette table. The croupier glanced at them, nestled on the green felt, before performing a sleight of hand and scooping them up before any other onlookers saw.

‘Leave, please,’ he said in a quiet but firm tone.