‘Yes, I do believe it is,’ he said, unbuttoning his blazer so as to get a little more comfortable on the sofa as he leant forward to tell Grace. ‘I’m in the process of having the flat renovated, sprucing it up with new carpet and a lick of paint, plus replacing the old kitchen units, and my decorator found some post that must have slipped down behind an old kitchen cupboard. And I do hope you’ll forgive me for reading the contents …’ He coughed politely and straightened his cravat. ‘On first glance, I thought it might have been an airmail letter that I had missed from my daughter who lives in New Zealand.’

‘Of course,’ Grace said, keen to read the contents herself.

‘The letters inside are quite revealing and I remembered that you were trying to find a relative to inherit from your friend, Connie.’

‘Yes, that’s right,’ Grace said, hopefully. She could feel Larry beside her shifting in his seat in anticipation too.

‘Why don’t you take a look,’ Mr Conway said, indicating the envelope.

And so Grace did. Carefully lifting out and unfolding a bundle of letters written on sheets of thin, pale blue airmail paper.

To Constance,

I feel it prudent to return the postcard you sent to Lara for it will only confuse her when she is so settled here in her new home. It really does not become you well to insist on disregarding what is best for her and putting your own needs before those of a child. Father and I trust that you will refrain from such emotional outpourings in future, if not for Lara’s sake, then for those of your new husband’s family, for I am quite certain that Senator Donato would not take kindly to you jeopardising his political career if he were to know of your meddling. I urge you to do the right thing and allow Lara to live a respectable life that is free from your continuous letters and cards which will only be returned to you or destroyed from now on.

With fondness,

Mother

Grace clutched a hand to her throat, thinking what an awful, cold, mean, heartlessly ruthless woman Connie’s mother was. How could she threaten her own daughter in this way and deny her any contact, not even a letter or a card … it was just horrible.

‘There’s more,’ prompted Mr Conway, as Grace carefully folded the acerbic letter and put it back inside the envelope. She read the next one, this time in Connie’s handwriting, assuming it had been written several years later, for the Star of David necklace was mentioned in the first paragraph.

My darling Lara,