Angelina heard a car pull into the drive. She stood up. ‘David, you have to leave, now!’

‘Okay, okay. I’m going, don’t worry. Call me. Promise?’

‘Yes.’

‘Thanks. Just cos I’ve had to stop loving you, doesn’t mean I don’t still love my son.’ David turned towards the door, but as he swung unsteadily round, the sleeve of his anorak caught the figurine on the mantelpiece and sent it crashing into the hearth below.

‘Oh God, I . . . I’m so sorry . . . I . . .’ David turned back and bent down to collect the pieces. ‘I’ll replace it . . .’

A pair of strong arms caught him by his elbows and brought him roughly to standing.

‘What the HELL are you doing in my house! Threatening your ex-wife again? Using broken china as a weapon?’ He was being dragged out of the room towards the door. ‘You know what happened last time you tried to break in here?’

‘Julian, really, it’s all right. David came to see me about Rory. He hasn’t threatened me and he was just about to leave when . . .’

But Julian was already out of the drawing room, manhandling the hapless David towards the front door. He opened it and threw David forcefully into the garden. David lost his balance and promptly fell into the rose bed just to the left of the entrance.

Panting with exertion, Julian swept a hand through his hair and straightened his suit as he watched David struggle to stand up.

‘I swear to you, if I ever find you near this house again, I shall slap another ASBO on you so quickly your feet won’t touch the ground. And as for your son, I shall make sure to tell him what a drunken lowlife his father is.’

The door slammed shut and David was left in the dark outside, his head spinning from alcohol and shock. There was blood trickling from one of his fingers, where he’d pricked it on a rose bush. He staggered down the drive towards the front gate, unable to stop the tears from running down his face.

‘Oh God, oh God,’ he muttered as he opened the door to his car.

He sank into the driver’s seat and put his head in his hands.

Julian Holmes, the arrogant smarmy lawyer David had met several times at dinner parties, was shacked up with his ex-wife.

He was living in David’s house, sleeping in David’s bed and, worst of all, able to have unlimited access to his son. When David himself couldn’t.

And . . . His alcohol-sodden mind searched for the connection that was there, just out of reach . . .

What if the person Rory seemed so frightened of was Julian?

David rested his throbbing head on the steering wheel and wondered if it was possible for things to get any worse.

Jazz was on her way home to her cottage, Miles driving her whilst she spoke on her mobile to Norton.