As she walked across the stable yard, she could see the back of Owen’s head as he looked at his laptop screen. He turned at her approach, her low-heeled boots announcing her arrival.

‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’ He emphasised the last word to make it clear this was anything but a pleasure.

‘Don’t worry, I’m not stopping long. And I assure you the pleasure will be all mine.’

Owen narrowed his eyes. ‘Get on with it. I’m a busy man.’

Elizabeth looked at her watch. ‘I was going to say the pub’s not open yet, but I don’t suppose that will bother you. I expect you’ve got something stashed away somewhere.’

‘Oh, do piss off, Elizabeth. This is really very boring now.’

Elizabeth placed both hands on the desk and leaned towards him. ‘The fun is only just beginning.’

Owen gave an exaggerated eye-roll and leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together. ‘As I say, I’m busy. I haven’t got much time.’

‘Well, since our last chat about selling the land, I’ve had a little rethink.’

Owen threw back his head and gave a loud laugh. ‘Oh, for God’s sake, you’re not still harping on about that, are you?’

‘I don’t give up. When I want something, I keep going until I get it.’ She was actually enjoying this and the prospect of Owen being totally fucked was positively thrilling. ‘Just be quiet and listen. You won’t be laughing in a minute.’

‘I’m all ears.’

‘I understand you had a little trip yesterday for a meeting at Kendalton Green Hotel.’

The colour drained from Owen’s face and he shifted in his seat. ‘That’s right.’ His voice was steady.

‘A little bird tells me that the meeting was cancelled.’ She paused as Owen swallowed hard. ‘But you had a meeting of another kind. A different sort of bird – a blonde one.’

‘You’re talking bollocks.’

Elizabeth held out the memory card to Owen. ‘Am I?’

Owen snatched the memory card from her. ‘What’s this?’

‘A short film. Why don’t you have a look?’

Owen eyed her with pursed lips, before slotting it into the side of his laptop. He clicked on the play button.

Elizabeth didn’t need to look; she could hear the muffled voices of Owen and Camilla. She winced slightly at the moan Owen gave. She knew what point of the recording he was at.

‘What the fuck?’ demanded Owen, sweat beading on his brow and above his top lip. ‘What the actual fuck?’

‘Good choice of words,’ said Elizabeth, as she sat in the chair and looked at her brother-in-law’s obvious distress.

He slammed the screen down, snatched the card from the laptop and jumped to his feet. He leaned over the desk, waving the memory card at Elizabeth. ‘Where did you get this from?’

‘That doesn’t really matter, does it?’