Jock felt like a rabbit caught in the headlights. ‘I swear, it’s not what you think, Joycie. Him and Pat are just friends, that’s all. Your Stanley has decent morals, love,’ he stammered.

‘Well, I’ll give him morals and I’ll give her fucking Pat. What’s the old bag’s address?’ Joyce screamed down the phone.

Jock was petrified of Joyce at the best of times. ‘I don’t know, I swear I don’t. All I know is she lives in Orsett,’ he said, his hands shaking.

‘Well, I’ll be taking a little trip to Orsett and when I find that dirty old bastard I married, I’m gonna chop his fucking bits off and feed ’em to his pigeons.’

Unaware that his old woman was on his tail and currently spitting feathers, Stanley and Pat were rather inebriated and cuddled up on the sofa. They had left the pub about an hour ago and they must have sunk at least ten or twelve drinks while they were out. At one point, Stanley had even felt his legs start to buckle.

‘Do you wanna watch a film, Stanley, or shall we have an early night?’ Pat asked him expectantly.

Not getting the gist of what she was asking, Stanley smiled at her. Unlike Joycie, Pat was a loving person and he sometimes liked it when she put her arms around him. It made him feel manly and wanted. ‘You watch a film if you like, love. I’m knackered, though, so I think I’ll have an early one.’

Desperate to get Stanley into her own bed rather than the one in the spare room, Pat edged towards his lips and placed her own there.

Feeling Pat’s tongue inside his mouth, Stanley leaped from the sofa as if he had a bullet up his arse. ‘Night, love,’ he shouted, as he ran from the room and bolted up the stairs. He was desperate for the safety of the spare room. He and Joycie hadn’t kissed for years and even when they used to, there were no tongues involved. Petrified that Pat was going to come into his room, Stanley finally stopped shaking as he heard her footsteps plod past. ‘Thank you, God,’ he mumbled gratefully.

Terry Baldwin sat in a corridor in Harold Wood Hospital. Sally had been rushed to the maternity unit and he’d been waiting ages for some news. Putting his head in his hands, Terry cursed the day his daughter had ever set eyes on Jed O’Hara. The little shit had already robbed him of one grandchild, his beloved Luke, and if Sally were to lose another because of Jed, Terry would have no choice but to top the little bastard.

Saying a silent prayer to God that all the blood Sally had lost would turn out to be no more than a false alarm, Terry heard his name being called. He stood up and looked into the doctor’s eyes.

‘I’m so sorry, Mr Baldwin, but I’m afraid we were unable to save the baby. On a positive note, your daughter is stable and we have given her something to sedate her so she can get some sleep. She was, understandably, very upset, so we would like to keep her in for observation.’