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There’s a pause. She lets out a ragged breath.

“I didn’t mean for it to end up like this,” she tells me. She sounds almost relieved, like she’s been waiting for the truth to come out.

“So it was you.” My jaw tightens.

She lets out a small sob and the sound makes my blood boil. Crocodile tears at their finest.

“I didn’t tell them about the money,” she rushes on. “They found that out themselves. I just gave them details of the child. He’d told my dad once when they were drunk and I overheard. I needed the money, Theo. I know it was a mistake, but there was no way out.”

“And when you accused Georgia, that was a mistake too?” I ask.

She pauses for a moment. “I was scared. I heard you all talking about an insider. And I did hear her talking with that man last night. That wasn’t a lie.”

Somebody else yells in the background. Then Kate lets out a shriek. There’s a clatter, like the phone has hit the floor.

“Alex,” I bark. “Do not fucking touch her. Just get her out.”

But he doesn’t answer. My hands tighten on the wheel. What the hell is going on?

Another voice joins the shouting. It’s higher and sharper. I’m about to call the police when I realize it belongs to my mother.

Dear God, Armageddon has begun in deepest Norfolk.

“Can somebody pick up the phone?” I shout, because yes, as far as I’m concerned they can all kill each other. But I’d prefer to already be out of the country when it happens.

There’s another scuffle, then Alex’s voice comes back on the line, breathless.

“Theo,” he says.

“What the hell is going on?” I demand.

A door slams somewhere in the background.

“Ah… Mother overheard us talking.” Alex sounds shell-shocked. “She and Kate were having a little discussion about it. Then Mum slapped her.”

“What?” An unexpected laugh rumbles in my chest.

“And she’s now escorting Kate upstairs to pack her bags.” Alex swallows. “I think I’ll leave them to it.”

I grit my teeth as I steer my way through London, toward the south. “Can you at least make sure they don’t kill each other?”

“I guess so.” He pauses. “I don’t suppose you’re coming home soon are you?” he asks. “I’m not sure Mum’s going to be talking to me very much anymore.”

“No I’m not. You’re on your own. I have somewhere else to be.”

“Where?” he demands.

“I’m flying to New York. Tonight.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve,” he splutters. “What if something else happens? What if the police come?”

“Then you’ll deal with it,” I say. “You’re perfectly capable.”

There’s a second of silence, as though he’s trying to think through the words.

I blow out a breath. “Alex, listen to me. For once in my life I’m not staying behind to clean up this family’s mess.” My grip tightens on the steering wheel. “I’m going to fix my own.”

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