‘I know why you invited me, Romy.’ His fair, round face looked pained. ‘And I understand why you’re upset with me. But I honestly don’t have a choice. Michael seems so … well, let’s be honest,’ he faltered, ‘not himself. And we’re inundated, as usual, working ourselves black and blue to deal with the caseload.’

Romy let his words hang in the air. She felt for him. ‘I’m not here about that, James.’

His expression cleared. ‘Oh, right. OK.’

She took a large mouthful of the chilled white, deliciously fortifying as it slid down her throat. ‘I wanted to talk about Grace Fleetwood.’

James’s eyes narrowed. But he said nothing.

‘I’d like the truth. I’d like to know exactly what Michael told you that night when he came round to your house.’ When the man still didn’t answer, she added, ‘Please, James. I saw you hesitate, when we last spoke about it, the day of Michael’s tea. I heard what you said. I know you’re hiding something.’

There was silence while James waved away the waiter who’d come to take their order and took what appeared to be a strategic sip from his glass. ‘What’s this all about, Romy?’ He sounded nonchalant, but she knew he was not.

‘Something isn’t ringing true. And I think, as Michael’s closest friend, you know what it is.’

James shook his head as if he were really puzzled. ‘Why, though? Why do you want to know? It’s decades ago.’ He paused. ‘Is the girl wanting to make trouble?’

His tone was chilly now and Romy could see how his bland, chummy exterior hid a very different persona. Michael had always told her, ‘Don’t be fooled by Bregman. He’s a clever bastard. You wouldn’t want to cross him in court.’

‘She’s a woman, James. And she’s not going to “ make trouble ”, as you put it. This is me who wants to know.’

James sighed. ‘Romy, listen.’ He reached across and grabbed her hand in his large, soft one. ‘Don’t do this. Don’t torture yourself. Michael’s a sick man. What good will it do to drag up the past now?’ His look was entreating.

‘Just tell me, James.’ She heard the flat, uncompromising note in her voice, knew the look she shot him matched it, and saw James come to a decision.

Shaking his head slightly, he frowned. ‘All right … What do you want to know?’