Everyone turned to stare at me. I rose to my feet. ‘Please don’t quarrel,’ I said after a moment. ‘I’m as shocked by this as you are. I’d only known Nick for a few months and—’

‘You must have worked remarkably quickly, young lady!’ Helena said spitefully. It was the first time she turned to face me. Apart from her thickset figure, she bore no resemblance to her father.

‘Cleaning lady!’ Harry snorted contemptuously. ‘Look at her! She looks like a … a … film star!’ I didn’t realise I looked that good.

‘Tart!’ he added with devastating emphasis.

Or that bad.

‘Mr Burgoyne!’ Mr Young protested. ‘Really, that kind of language is most uncalled for!’

‘I understand that you’re angry,’ I told Helena. ‘But … as I said … I haven’t known Nick long. I wasn’t expecting anything from him … I feel awful about this.’

I was about to tell her that I renounced any claim to what Nick had left me, that I didn’t want it, they could have it all. But I didn’t get the chance.

‘Oh, I expect you’ve earned it.’ Helena’s glare was killing. ‘On your back!’

I laughed. ‘Are you serious? Nick was old enough to be my grandfather!’

‘For all we know,’ her husband chipped in, shaking a pointing finger in my direction, ‘she was in cahoots with these Russians, or whoever they are! Once she’d worked her wicked wiles on your father, got him to sign the will in her favour − if it’s genuine …’

‘Mr Burgoyne!’ Mr Young sprang to his feet. ‘I really must insist you withdraw that allegation!’ He waved the piece of paper he was holding. ‘I can assure you that this document is genuine. It has been witnessed and dated …’

Harry began to bluster again but I cut in. ‘Has it occurred to you,’ I asked, struggling to keep my voice level, ‘that if any of you had come down here to see your father now and again, I might not have had the opportunity to work my wicked wiles, as you call them?’

Suddenly Helena sprang forward. For a moment I thought she was going to slap me, but she grabbed my wrists, turning my hands over to look at my fingers. ‘Where are my grandmother’s rings?’

I tried to pull my hands away, shocked at her sudden strength. ‘What rings? I don’t know what you’re talking about!’

‘We searched that flat and they’re not there! What have you done with them? They belonged to my mother’s mother! They should come to me!’

‘Oh for God’s sake, Helena!’ Richard protested loudly. ‘You’ll be lucky if the old man didn’t sell ’em years ago!’

‘I don’t know anything about your grandmother’s rings!’ I protested, jerking my hands away.

Helena pulled out a handkerchief and began to cry. ‘Well, she shouldn’t have them!’