‘Yes, I know,’ Lawrence replied smoothly. ‘He rang me. I told him you were mistaken.’

Grace felt the bile rising in her throat, that bitter sick feeling that a fight or argument with Lawrence brought on.

‘You can’t do that. It was left to me,’ said Grace between clenched teeth. ‘I owned it before we got married. Don’t try and bullshit me, Lawrence. It won’t work.’

He moved across the room towards her. ‘Grace, look. I didn’t want to worry you, but we’re in trouble financially. There’s a delay in the settlement of the fire insurance. Also, there’s a downturn in the market, so some of my investments have not quite . . . well, they haven’t met my expectations,’ he said, giving her an apologetic smile. ‘The flat is old but it’s in a good location, and it’s the only asset we have that can be realised straight away. I wanted to sort things out and not bother you.’

Grace was not convinced by the apparent sincerity in his voice. ‘That flat is for Daisy. I love it and she will love it. It was her great-grandmother’s. It’s for Daisy when she goes to university. And it’s in my name, so you can’t sell it,’ she said. A gripping fear began to burn in her gut.

‘Would you like a coffee?’ He began to make one for himself, ignoring her as he went on, a faint hint of annoyance seeping into his voice. ‘You seem to have forgotten that you agreed to our valuable possessions going into the family trust several years ago. You signed the agreement. And, as stated, in times of financial hardship possessions may be sold or relinquished at the discretion of the sole administrator and director of said trust. Which is me.’ He paused as the machine hissed, spewing coffee into his mug. ‘You signed everything over to me. To administer as I see fit. I’m doing this for us.’ He turned around and faced her.

Grace couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘But it’s mine!’ she exploded. ‘You can’t sell it without asking me!’

‘Please don’t raise your voice in this building, everyone can hear you,’ Lawrence said, his own voice suddenly steely. ‘We’ll buy her another flat. Later. She’s five, for God’s sake.’

Grace began to tremble. Her grandmother’s beloved flat being sold from under her was bad enough. But it was the fact that Lawrence, her supposedly loving husband, hadn’t even asked her. Hadn’t told her anything; had deliberately misled her. Had just gone ahead and done it, whether she’d signed it over to him or not. That was too much to bear.

‘Lawrence, you can’t do this, you can’t.’ Tears began to stream down Grace’s face as she shook her head. ‘No. I won’t allow it. It’s not just any piece of real estate . . .’ She choked up. The enormity of such a betrayal of trust was almost too staggering to take in. With a mammoth effort, she tried to pull herself together and think. As Lawrence sipped his coffee, she added in a more controlled fury, ‘I’m not sure that you’re correct about the family trust. You’re trying it on. To scare me.’