Worthing stepped into the performance room and strolled around it with his arms behind his back, scanning the beading at the ceiling and the skirting, knocking with his knuckles at the soundproofed window frames and the plaster of the wall. ‘It is a lovely space,’ he said. ‘Glad it will get some appropriate use. You know you never should have been running a recording studio in here, don’t you?’ he said to Vincent. ‘This house was never zoned for business.’

Vincent shrugged.

‘Quiet neighbours increase resale values, don’t they, boss?’

‘Is that it?’ Petra said. ‘You’re just going to flip the house, aren’t you? Destroying a family’s legacy for a quick profit. Nice work. You’re used to that, aren’t you? Destroying people’s lives for money.’

Worthing stopped walking and turned to face her. ‘How so?’

Even from metres away, she could feel his eyes hook into her. This man had faced down and defeated stronger people than her on his way up the corporate ladder. ‘Forget it.’ Petra turned her back and squatted down, gathering the bottles and wrappers into the shopping bag and starting to fold the red blanket.

‘Since you’re here already,’ Picton said to Vincent, ‘you could always stay on once your girlfriend’s gone and get started. There’s lots to do.’

‘In the morning,’ Vincent said.

* * *

Petra waited until they’d got out onto the pavement and closed the red door behind them. They walked a few aimless metres towards town, not really knowing where they were headed next – they lived in opposite directions. Then Petra turned around to face him. ‘Why? Why are you selling the house to him?’

‘I told you. We need the money. Gloria and me.’

‘But why sell to Worthing of all people? You know who he is. Anyone else would snap up the house.’

Vincent shrugged. ‘His was the first offer. It met the asking price.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Yeah?’

‘I think you’re trying to punish yourself. It’s the same reason you’re working for him as opposed to practically anyone else in the world.’

‘What do you mean? What do you think I’ve got to punish myself for?’

Decision point, Petra. You say what you mean now, or you never get the chance again. You drift through the rest of this relationship, however long it lasts, and you never get the chance to say this again. Is it so important to say it? Can he really not see it for himself? Who the hell are you to come into this man’s life, glean a minute of his pain and assume you know the magic breakthrough that’s going to heal him? It was blindingly obvious to her, and if he couldn’t see it, then someone had to tell him. ‘For losing Beccie, Vincent.’ She was prepared to sacrifice this happiness to be the messenger.