And now she’s writing an extra sign we didn’t agree on. She holds it up and her eyes glitter wickedly.

I could make your life a misery.

I would LOVE to make your life a misery.

Crikey. Well, that’s honest. I glance at Corey, and the veins are standing out on his forehead. His fists are clenched. He looks like he wants to attack her.

Just sign it and I’ll be out of your life.

Rebecca gives him a long, challenging gaze. Then she starts holding the signs up more and more quickly, almost as if she’s dealing cards.

Just sign it.

Just sign the settlement, Corey.

Do it.

Corey is breathing harder and harder. He looks like a man about to explode.

Just fucking DO IT.

DO IT, Corey.

DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT!

“OK!” Corey suddenly erupts like a bull snorting. “OK! Let’s get this goddamn settlement done. Give me a pen. Let’s get it done.”

Oh my God. Did he just say—

I meet Rebecca’s eyes for a breathless moment. Have we done it? Have we won?

I think we’ve won.

Slowly, silently, Rebecca closes the double doors…and it’s as if she was never there.

“Marvelous!” says Luke smoothly. “Very kind of you, Corey. Shall we sort that out straightaway?”

“You OK, babe?” says Cyndi, looking away in surprise from Suze, Danny, and Ulla and surveying Corey. “Sweetheart, is something wrong? You look like you’re burning up!”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Corey gives her a fixed smile. “Just want to get this all wrapped up.”

“Good man,” says Dad, in cheerful tones. “Let’s go and find my legal colleagues.”

Without further delay, Dad ushers Corey toward the door. I catch his eye as he walks past and feel a weird bubble rising up inside me. But I’m not sure…Is it a bubble of relief? Hysteria? Disbelief?

As Cyndi babbles on about Peyton’s amazing ballet potential, I meet Suze’s eyes…then Mum’s…all round the room. Tarquin’s…Danny’s…Ulla’s…Elinor’s…and, last of all, Luke’s. He gives me a little grin and lifts his coffee cup to me as though in a toast. And I can’t stop a smile spreading across my face. After all that. We’ve done it.

We’ve actually done it.

NINETEEN

The Bellagio fountains are magical. And, OK, I know they’re touristy and I know they’re a cliché and I know there’s a load of other sightseers crowding around. But right now I feel as if they’re gushing up, over and over, just for us. For us ten. They’re our reward.

We’re leaning against the balustrade, all in a line, like at the end of the Ocean’s Eleven film. That ripply piano music is playing in my head, and nobody’s saying anything. We’re looking at one another and smiling, and I haven’t felt so good for ages. Forever. We did it. We got justice. And the ridiculous thing is, Brent doesn’t even have any idea yet…but somehow that’s not the point.