‘If it’s someone called Zoe, tell her I’m in the bath and don’t invite her in. We’ll never get rid of her.’

He wandered down the hallway, smiling. When he opened the door, it took a moment for his brain to compute what he saw. The guy on the doorstep looked equally stumped. They both stood in silence for a moment.

Then Damian Magill spoke. ‘I was looking for Lana,’ he said. ‘She didn’t show up tonight.’

Gareth’s breathing accelerated and he could hear his heart beating in his ears. He stared at the Northern Irishman from the pub, and without dropping his gaze, shouted behind him, ‘Lana! Someone to see you!’

He heard her approach but didn’t turn round, painfully putting two and two together.

A smile crept slowly across Damian Magill’s face. ‘Well, this is interesting,’ he said, looking over Gareth’s shoulder to where Lana was now standing, rooted to the spot.

It was excruciating to hear her desperately try to right the situation unfolding before her, forcing jollity and nonchalance into her shaking voice as she said, ‘Oh hi, Damo. Have you come for the book?’

‘What book?’ said Damian Magill, faking confusion.

‘This is Damian, Gar,’ said Lana, ploughing on and attempting to edge her way past Gareth. ‘He’s a friend from college and—’

Gareth put up his arm, gently easing Lana back behind him. His voice remained level, despite the adrenalin that was now racing around his system at a pace of knots.

‘You fucking my girlfriend, mate?’

Damian Magill stared back at him, grinning.

Behind him Lana carried on, fruitlessly attempting to sustain the lie. ‘Gareth! What you talking about? I told you—’

‘You gonna answer me, Damo?’ said Gareth, ignoring her.

‘What do you think, Taffy boy?’ Damian Magill replied, his grin unfaltering.

Gareth stepped out of the house towards him.

‘Gareth, stop it!’ shouted Lana, but still he continued.

‘I think,’ he said calmly, ‘that the answer is yes – that you are fucking my girlfriend.’ And he jabbed hard at Damian Magill’s shoulders.

The builder’s smile dropped. ‘You don’t wanna do that, fella.’

‘Don’t I?’ And Gareth pushed him again.

This time Damian Magill responded, taking a swing at Gareth, who ducked in time, coming back himself with a punch, hard in the builder’s gut. Damian Magill doubled over and Gareth swung at him again.

‘She who you were talking about in the pub, you fucking Paddy bastard? Been seein’ her night after night …?’

‘GARETH!!’ Lana screamed at them both to stop, but her plea went unheeded.

‘Yeah, that’s right, mate,’ said Damian Magill, blood now running from the corner of his mouth, which had curled into a sickening smile. ‘And I tell you what, it’s true what they say about Welsh girls – absolutely fucking gagging for it!’

Gareth lunged at him again, the rage in his veins spurring him on. But suddenly Damian Magill got the better of him, and within the blink of an eye he’d got Gareth on to the ground.