‘I don’t know why you’d want Grace anyway,’ Douglas says. ‘She’s violent.’ When Nick doesn’t respond, he shrugs. ‘I gather she’s been economical with her past. Well, let me fill you in. Grace stabbed me with a kitchen knife. I rescued that woman from the streets, cleaned her up and sorted her life out and she repaid me by trying to kill me.’

He raises his shirt and Nick blinks when he sees the puckered scar, about two inches wide, halfway between Douglas’s hip and his navel. It’s shocking, but he stands by Grace.

‘She must have had good reason.’

‘Is there ever a good reason to attempt murder? I didn’t press charges, but she was charged anyway. Suspended sentence. So do yourself a favour and get out of my daughter’s life. I don’t want you or your father anywhere near her.’

Despite the pain he’s in, Nick draws himself up to his full height. ‘I’ll do no such thing. I’m marrying Grace, and Lottie will be part of our family. I’ve done nothing wrong. My father acted reprehensibly—’

‘Reprehensibly?’ Douglas sneers. ‘He got Anna pregnant.’

Nick feels his colour drain. He turns to Anna, a question in his eyes.

She doesn’t say a word, but her eyes fill and overflow. Her tears fall silently.

‘Oh, you didn’t know about the baby?’ Douglas says. ‘Your half-sister was adopted. Tim wouldn’t face up to his responsibilities. Fortunately for him, Anna kept his name out of it. She doesn’t need to do that any more though, does she? Tim should pay. If you don’t pack your bags and leave immediately, the newspapers are going to hear all about that, and all about how you molested poor little Izzy Wells and drove her to her death. I’ll destroy your family before I let you near Lottie again.’

Enraged, Nick launches himself at Douglas, hatred convulsing his features. Douglas is caught off guard, surprised that a man like Nick, normally gentle and measured, is capable of such violence. Before he can react, Nick has him down on the floor and is kneeling on his chest, his hands wrapped round his throat. Anna grabs at his shoulders, shouting at him to let go, but Nick ignores her. As he squeezes, he can feel the hard nub of Douglas’s Adam’s apple against the base of his palm, and the hot, panicky beat of the man’s pulse.

Douglas’s eyes bulge, but Nick can’t stop. A red mist has descended, obliterating reason. Then something moves behind him, something dark and swift that descends on the back of his head with a sickening crack.

Someone is sobbing; the sound goes on and on.

Someone is panting, out of breath, like they’ve been running.