‘So you make up some bullshit story about your mum not letting you come on the spa break and then I find out from that gay boy holed up in your house that you’ve gone off to Italy. Grace, when I said you should get in someone to look after your mum, I meant so that you could come away with me and we could have some sexy time.’ Grace had blanched at this point as she hated that phrase. ‘Not so you could lie to me and go off with another geezer. And all that crap you came out with about not being able to go out anywhere new … well, that was obviously a load of old rubbish too. Because, Italy. It’s not exactly round the corner. Anyway, you’re dumped. Not that you were much cop in the sack anyway. I’ve had hotter dinners—’ At which point she had hung up and thanked her lucky stars. Phil had then sent her a text a few minutes later saying she owed him three hundred and seventy-six pounds for the whole spa weekend since he never would have paid his mate for the booking if he had known she was going to fleece him over it.

‘Well done, Grace,’ Ellis grinned, leaning forward in his chair and bringing her thoughts back to the moment. ‘So we now know that Giovanni is definitely the artist and therefore Connie as his wife was heir to his artwork that was in her possession … well, in her storage unit until we had it moved to a secure place. Nice work.’ She beamed, and then quickly adjusted her face so it wasn’t quite so jubilant or – dare she think it – flirtatious-looking. Because that wouldn’t do. She’d hate Jennifer to feel betrayed in any way by another woman; not that she would know how Grace was behaving, but that wasn’t the point. Grace of all people knew what betrayal felt like, not that Matthew had been innocent in his affair with the Perky Yoga One, of course not. But Grace used to wonder, in the early days after it all happened, just how much of a part the Perky Yoga One had played in luring Matthew into thinking ‘it just happened’.

‘Thanks, Ellis,’ she replied, sombrely. ‘Another piece of the puzzle solved. I’ll make a note in my pad.’

‘Sure,’ Ellis said, turning his head to look up at her, his eyebrows creased with curiosity. ‘Are you OK, Grace?’