The last room on the right was a spare room-cum-storeroom no one ever used. She stood in the doorway and looked. Nothing seemed to have changed at all, unlike the rest of the house, which had been updated. She remembered storing her old clothes in there but now wondered if any would fit.

She hurriedly pulled plastic boxes from under the bed, popped the lids, and looked down. The top outfit was a plain white shirt, with some designer logo on the pocket. Underneath that was a pair of black jeans. She smiled. She remembered why she’d thrown them into the box; it was because they were too big. Rummaging through, she found more clothes that would do for now, along with underwear and even old jewellery that for the moment looked lovely compared to the crap she had back at the caravan.

After a long hot bath, she got herself dressed and made her way downstairs. Mike handed her a cup of tea, and she followed him into the dining room.

‘How’s your face?’

Jackie was actually surprised at how little the scarring stood out. Initially, she thought she’d look like a victim of a Glasgow kiss, but, surprisingly, the swelling had gone down, the actual pink scar having thinned out. And given time, she thought it would fade into insignificance.

‘Yeah, not so bad.’

Mike was amused by how different Jackie was. She seemed resigned, almost ashamed.

‘So, you want me to sign the divorce papers?’

Mike laughed. ‘Of course I do, Jackie. I want you out of my life completely.’

She nodded calmly. ‘I don’t blame you. Okay, then, I’ll sign them.’

Mike wasn’t convinced that she was genuine, simply because she’d never been so in the past. Does a leopard really change its spots, he thought?

‘And I assume there’s a settlement? I mean, you don’t expect me to walk away with nothing, do you?’

He knew it: she was after money. But he’d already made provisions long before he had her brought to his house. ‘Yeah, you do walk away with something, although it’s meaningless really. You get to have your life.’

She didn’t expect any other answer. ‘Ha, that was predictable, Mike. So, I’m not entitled to anything then?’

Mike gulped back his drink. ‘Jackie, you bought your own house from the money you syphoned from me. You took away my son, and he’ll vouch for how you treated him. So, Jackie, be thankful, love, that, seriously, you’re still alive. So, when the solicitor arrives, just keep your mouth fucking shut and sign on the dotted line.’

She grinned then. ‘And what if I don’t?’

‘I’m not going to spell it out because I don’t have the fucking time or the crayons to explain it to you.’

‘Okay, fair enough. It was worth a try, I suppose.’