Seeing the look of hatred on Frankie’s face, Katie took a step backwards. ‘Are you OK, Frankie? Have I done something to upset you?’ she asked, with a hurt expression.

Frankie laughed nastily. ‘Look Katie, I don’t like you, I don’t trust you, and I only spoke to you in the first place because I needed to get a message to Jed, so do yourself a favour – stop trying to be my friend and fucking leave me alone.’

As Frankie stomped off, Katie stood gawping with shock.

Stanley Smith felt absolutely knackered as he flopped onto the armchair. When Joycie had said she wanted him to help out indoors more, he had thought she’d meant a bit of vaccing and polishing. Unfortunately for him, she hadn’t, and he’d spent the last couple of days painting one of the bedrooms, tiling one of the bathrooms, and putting up new curtain rails all over the poxy house.

Ten minutes later, Joyce was horrified when she walked into the lounge and saw her sleeping husband snoring his head off. She crept over to the armchair, bent down and clapped her hands as hard as she could next to his left ear.

‘What the fuck!’ Stanley yelled, as he jumped up like a kangaroo.

‘What are you doing lazing about down ’ere? You took that bedroom carpet up yet? I want the new one put down by tomorrow.’

‘I can’t move the bed and furniture on me own, Joycie. I’ll break me bleedin’ back.’

‘Well, best you ring Jock, then, and ask him to come round and help you.’

Stanley sighed. He’d obeyed Joyce’s rules and gone round to see Jock at the weekend to apologise for their fall-out. Under the circumstances, Jock had been extremely gracious, but Stanley didn’t want to take the piss by asking him to do bloody odd jobs. They hadn’t even been out for a pint together yet.

‘I don’t wanna ask Jock. Can’t you ring Joey and Dom? I’m sure they’ll come round and give me a hand.’

‘We’re not asking them!’ Joyce exclaimed.

‘Why not? They’re a damn sight younger and fitter than me and Jock are.’

‘Because they’re gay! In that programme I watched recently, it said that homosexual men liked dancing and shopping; these gays ain’t into physical heavy lifting, Stanley,’ Joyce said seriously.

Stanley knew there was no point in arguing with her. ‘OK, I’ll ring Jock, then,’ he said.

Joyce smirked. Not only did she love getting her own way, she also loved having Stanley back home with her. She would never tell him that, though. She would keep the old bastard in the doghouse for the rest of his life and, after what he’d done, that’s where he deserved to be.

‘Come on then, chop chop, ring Jock,’ Joyce demanded.