“For God’s sake,” Lizzie said, “let go of him—”

“Lizzie!” Johnny shouted. “Help me!” He started to cry. “I only want to talk. I need your help...” His voice broke on the words.

Lizzie flinched. She saw Johnny try to turn his head away to hide his tears but the way that the security guard was holding him made it impossible. His raw vulnerability was on show for all to see. He twisted from one side to the other, desperately trying to free himself. It was painful to witness so much distress and for one terrible moment it struck a chord deep inside Lizzie, drawing her back, reminding her of the dark suffocating press of her own grief when her mother had died, a grief she had pushed away for so many years until finally it had refused to be ignored. She swallowed hard and tore her gaze away from Johnny, stepping back, bumping into Kat in her eagerness to get away from the scene and the memories it brought with it.

“Let him go,” she said. Her words came out hoarsely and she cleared her throat. “If he needs to talk to me then let him.”

“I wouldn’t advise it, Ms Kingdom.” Jason had come to stand beside her. “Mr Robsart is disruptive and could be dangerous. The police are on their way.”

“Lizzie!” Johnny yelled over his shoulder at her as they dragged him away from her. “Please! Let me talk to you.”

“He needs help...” Kat said, putting an arm about Lizzie. “Come away, hon. Let the professionals deal with it. You need to get to the studio. We’ll be late—”

“I don’t care,” Lizzie said. She shook off Kat’s restraining arm and hurried across the concourse. Johnny was being manhandled towards the door and the crowd retreated before him with camera phones still flashing.

“Ms Kingdom—” Jason interposed his bulk between her and Johnny. “Wait—”

“Let go of my brother or I’ll have you up on an assault charge.”

Lizzie turned to find herself looking into the impossibly dark, impossibly angry eyes of Arthur Robsart. Even though she wasn’t touching Johnny and Arthur’s words weren’t addressed to her, she found herself stepping back at the authority in his tone.

She hadn’t seen Arthur since Amelia’s wedding ten years before yet for a moment it felt as though no time had elapsed at all. She remembered the way he had bound up the cut on her hand with a dispassionate efficiency that hadn’t hidden the fact he was exasperated with her. The look he was giving her now made his manner then seem positively warm.

The security guard dropped Johnny as though he’d been scalded. Johnny half stumbled, half fell into Lizzie’s arms, only to be wrenched away from her by a blonde girl who had dashed inside in Arthur’s wake. Lizzie vaguely recognised her as Anna, Amelia’s younger sister. It had been a while since they’d met.

“Darling Johnny,” Anna was saying. “Don’t. Don’t cry. It will all be all right.” She glared at Lizzie like a tigress as she cradled Johnny close, stroking his hair. “Haven’t you done enough harm, monopolising Dudley?” she demanded. “You’re not getting your claws into Johnny as well.”