Bloom was alarmed by Freya’s naivety. She clearly didn’t know about her father’s real nature; she didn’t understand the game. Clive Llewellyn was evidently a true master of disguise. Without missing a beat, he rose from his seat and beckoned Bloom and Logan forward.

‘Of course. Of course. Come in. Take a seat. Freya, ask Mrs Burns to make us some tea and bring up some of that lovely ginger cake.’

Bloom and Logan sat in the two chairs facing the large desk. Llewellyn shook Logan’s hand and gave him a firm shoulder-pat, and then placed both hands around Bloom’s in an act of warm reassurance. His whole demeanour said, Relax, you’re with friends.

‘How old is your sister, Craig?’ asked Llewellyn as he returned to his chair on the other side of the desk.

‘Twenty-three.’

Llewellyn shook his head and tutted. ‘Your poor mother must be going spare.’ He looked at Bloom. ‘Are you Mum’s sister, Alice?’

‘Yes,’ said Bloom. Llewellyn used their first names with the familiarity of a lifelong friend.

‘I can’t imagine what we’d do if Freya disappeared off on a little jaunt like that.’

‘A little jaunt?’ repeated Bloom.

Llewellyn leaned back in his chair and smiled. He had the same sparkling teeth as his daughter. ‘A jaunt, an exploration, a journey of self-discovery. Everyone needs some time out now and again to recharge the batteries and regain the old focus, don’t you think?’

‘Maybe at our age,’ said Bloom. ‘But my niece is just a child.’

Llewellyn nodded as if he agreed, but then said, ‘Some of us are old souls even at a young age.’

‘Do you know where my sister is?’ Logan asked with a fairly convincing tone of desperation.

‘Wherever she wants to be, I should expect.’

‘Are you saying she chose to go off like this?’ said Bloom. ‘Nobody is forcing her?’

Llewellyn placed his hands behind his head. ‘Let me tell you a little story. I’m a rich man, as you can probably tell, because I’m a bloody good lawyer. If you want your business sold for millions, I’m your man. If you want to fight the power-grabbing market-leaders looking to gobble up your company, I’m your man. If you want to gobble up the little guys stealing your customers, I’m your man. Up against me, no one wins – never have, never will. But what do I get out of it?’

Bloom fought the urge to wave her arms around the room and say, ‘A massive house, a pampered, privately educated daughter, a trophy wife somewhere and a stable full of fast cars.’

‘I get ungrateful little people complaining. I wanted more, Llewellyn. You need to do it for less, Llewellyn. When they haven’t got the brains or balls to do it themselves. You see?’

‘What’s that got to do with my sister?’