First he discussed the insurance. He could confirm that, while there’d been a small hold-up initially, eventually the claim had been approved on the order of the man Mr Jamison had mentioned before – Mr Tony Freeman – and paid in full to Lawrence. Which led him to the trust document. It looked valid, Mr Jamison reported: it gave Lawrence the right to deal with things such as Grace’s Paddington apartment, and probably the insurance money, without consulting with her. As both Lawrence and Grace were signatories to the trust, if Grace wanted to vary it then both she and Lawrence would need to sign again. Fat chance of Lawrence agreeing to that, thought Grace.

The only other way to be free of it, Mr Jamison said, would be taking him to court and proving he tricked her into signing it, which, for now, Mr Jamison recommended against. Grace felt her belly tighten: would she ever be free? And just what on earth did all of this mean?

At that moment, her phone pinged with a message from Allison at the agency, asking her to call Spencer as a matter of utmost urgency. That was unusual: Spencer emailed her a lot, but he rarely sounded stressed or hurried, and hardly ever bothered to go through Allison. Grace picked up the phone and dialled Spencer’s office phone at the agency. The call was diverted to Allison.

‘Oh hi, Alli, it’s Grace. I’m just calling Spencer like you asked. I suppose he wanted me to call him on his mobile.’

‘Oh,’ said Alli, and Grace thought she sounded hesitant. ‘Yes, he, um, he wants to talk to you.’

Grace paused, not liking the tone of her voice. ‘Why’s that, Alli? What’s happening?’ she asked.

‘Look, Grace, Spencer isn’t happy . . .’

Grace groaned. When was he ever happy? He obviously hadn’t liked her lack of response yesterday when he’d asked for all her creative and logistical concepts for the Kamasan account, and she guessed he’d probably thrown a tantrum.

She sighed. ‘What’s bothering him now?’

There was a moment of silence before Alli said, ‘He says he wants to pull you off the job. I’m so sorry, Grace. I’m just repeating orders.’

Grace felt her stomach drop. ‘He what? That’s ridiculous! The whole campaign is mine. I created it, I won it for the agency, I’m managing it. And it’s going well . . . what’s his problem?’ she demanded.

‘It’s stupid . . . but he saw some photos online. He wants to look at your concepts again. He says they’re vague, not enough use of Carson Agency creatives, you know the sort of thing. It’s all rubbish, I know –’

‘What is he talking about? What photos?’

‘Somewhere on Facebook. There’s a couple of photos of you lounging by a pool, dancing in a club. He says you’re wasting time and money for the agency and the client.’