She got to her feet.

‘Sit down,’ he said.

‘No. Can I just say, I’m not trying to hurt you, Griff, not taking your money. My choices are not about you. I need to make my own way. And be normal. I would have thought you would respect that.’ Griff was smiling up at her, entertained. ‘And Dan and me are fine. We’re more than fine. We’re very, very lucky.’

He checked his watch. ‘For a clever girl, you’re very stupid.’

‘I’m not,’ she said. ‘I’m not stupid.’

‘What makes you so special?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Sit down.’

‘No.’

‘Darling.’ He smiled, like they were both in on a joke. ‘Sit down.’

She sat. She didn’t know why. She just found herself doing it.

‘Just relax,’ he said. ‘Have some water. Come on.’

She picked up her glass and had a sip of water, wondering if she was obeying him, or if it was just because her mouth was dry. He seemed to want to connect with her.

‘Look at your assets,’ he said.

‘What assets?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Not being rude,’ said Griff, ‘I’d say this to anyone, but you’re not the most beautiful girl in the world. Come on, you know that.’

She was both surprised and unsurprised. She had forgotten what it was like to be with her family. Most people weren’t cruel like this. Or maybe they just weren’t so truthful.

‘That’s unkind,’ she said.

‘You’re meant to flatter your kids,’ he said, ‘tell girls they’re beautiful. Whatever. I don’t care. You were never going to stop traffic. Not like your mum. Fighting them off, she was – still is, for all I know.’

Her legs began to tremble. ‘This is not an appropriate conversation,’ she said.

Griff laughed. ‘Life’s not appropriate, love. It’s not fair. It’s shit. I’m trying to help you out here.’

She steadied her breath. She thought about leaving.

‘Money, sex, hunger – these are the drivers,’ he said. He held his fingers in front of her face, checking off his list. ‘You? You’re very smart, apparently, and you’ve got money. But your husband? He’s hungry. Plus, not to put too fine a point on it, he’s a very good-looking lad. So what’s keeping him?’

Bea’s face was burning. It shouldn’t be her shame, it was his. She willed herself to be calm, as calm and professional as she was at work. She heard all kinds of things there, and never looked shocked. She had been physically attacked once. She’d handled it. She met his eye again.

‘You’re being very hurtful,’ she said. ‘I don’t think you realise how hurtful you’re being.’

He stared at her for a long moment.

‘You’re right,’ he said.

He sat back and threw up his hands. ‘I didn’t mean to get into all this. I just want to help you.’

‘I know,’ said Bea. ‘I see that.’

He gazed at his unwanted drink. He looked defeated.

‘I can’t believe I’m begging you to take my money,’ he said. ‘Grovelling – to help you. Bloody hell. Fatherhood.’