‘No, Robert, it’s not,’ Diana replied, pointedly holding his gaze. She remembered very well the events of twelve years ago: Robert’s shock and outrage to the news that Karla was pregnant, his determination to try to persuade her not to have the child. Diana often wondered whether, on seeing Holly grow from a tiny baby into the beautiful young girl she was, he might have any regrets about such a suggestion. She very much doubted it. Robert never had regrets. His philosophy in life was to look to the future. He never looked back, possibly for fear of seeing the casualties he’d left in his wake. Herself being one of them. Her dear friend another.

Upon learning exactly what kind of man Robert was, in the early days of their marriage, she’d thought that perhaps they deserved each other. She’d made her bed, and so she would lie in it. The ‘luxurious lifestyle’ made it tolerable.

She should have left him after losing Sarah. She would have, but for the fact that she hadn’t been emotionally strong. After suffering a double bereavement – her mother had also passed away – just getting through a single day had seemed an unsurmountable task. She’d functioned, but she hadn’t felt anything very much. She felt now though.

It had taken a while for her anger to surface after Sarah died. When it had, she’d subdued it, deciding to stay until Karla built a life of her own. And then she’d fallen into a routine, she supposed, once the grandchildren had come along. Seeing Robert’s continual attempts to destroy Karla’s marriage, though, had rekindled her simmering hatred for this bully of a man who would lie about his child’s death. The thing Diana could least forgive was that he’d simply carried on, doing exactly as he’d always done, running his business, controlling people. Still, he continued to think he was untouchable. But one day his past was going to catch up with him. The pity was, Diana wouldn’t be around to see his downfall.

‘So, what did she say?’ Robert asked as Diana studied him, looking for the usual signs of his lies. Was he aware, she wondered, that she could see his mind ticking over. The way he smoothed his hand along the drinks table or the coffee table, examining it for non-existent dust, or his tendency to fiddle with a shirt cuff or his watch strap – those were the little things he did when the cogs were going around, formulating explanations to account for his contemptible actions.

‘Nothing much. She was too upset,’ Diana supplied. ‘I gather you’ve refused to back his business. Why, Robert? Jason didn’t come to you easily. Karla had to practically beg him. Why would you arrange a meeting with him and then turn him down?’