Then she saw Philip Hale in the doorway and her heart sank.

‘You will collect your things, Miss Tennison, and leave immediately,’ Mr Hale said, in a voice that contained a hint of triumph.

‘No,’ Carson said at once. ‘I owe Miss Tennison a debt, and I can’t allow her to lose her job.’

Philip Hale’s face was a picture. The desire not to offend a valuable client warred with indignation at Carson’s imperious way of declaring what he would and wouldn’t allow. While he was struggling Carson went on without waiting for a reply.

‘Miss Tennison, I thank you for saving my son, and-’ for the first time he seemed to falter ‘-and for the understanding you have shown him. You’re a credit to your employers, and I shall be writing to the senior partners to say so.’ He emphasised ‘senior’ very slightly. Philip Hale noticed and his eyes narrowed.

Gina let out a slow breath, more confused than she’d ever been. He was brusque, harsh and arrogant, but he was also fair.

Carson reached out to Joey. All the fight seemed to have drained out of the child, and he took his father’s hand without protest. But he was weeping with a kind of resigned despair that broke Gina’s heart.

She watched as father and son walked out and headed for the front door. They got halfway. Then Carson stopped and looked down at the child who, by now, was wiping his face. He put his fingers under the boy’s chin, and lifted it, looking urgently into his eyes. Then, more gently than Gina would have believed possible, he took out a handkerchief and dried the little boy’s tears. He looked back at her. For the first time he seemed unsure of himself.

‘You’d better come with us,’ he said. ‘I mean-if you can spare the time.’

Gina opened her mouth to say that of course she would come, but suddenly she was swept by alarm. She wanted to help this vulnerable child, yet a great weight seemed to be crushing her.