Ever since the Tweedster found out about Ashley rubbing the bacon with hairdresser Aimee Walton, the poor boy's been on lock-down. No getting merry with his footballer pals, no mobile phone use that doesn't involve Cheryl, detailed daily reports on his every movement when not at home, kipping in the dog basket while Cheryl snoozes in the master suite. And now no sex!

In fact prisoner Cole's on such a tight leash that we're wondering how much longer he can feasibly rot in the punishment wing before his jailer chucks him a bone.

Hence Ashley's desperate attempts to whisk Chez off to the Caribbean for some luxury tropical pleading. Ashley hopes a few romantic strolls on whitewashed beaches will be enough to break him out of the doghouse and have the Tweedster unshackle her chastity belt - letting Ashley back in her pants...life once and for all. Fingers crossed Cheryl greenlights the hol.

And to think there was a day when a footballer could happily get up to no good on the side safe in the knowledge his wife would never rock the multi million pound yacht by kicking up a stink. The halcyon days are over.