‘Yes, because I knew how to treat money.’

‘Like a prisoner who’s always trying to escape,’ Darius recalled.

‘Exactly. That’s why I came to live here.’

He pushed open the door that led out onto the balcony overlooking the view over the bay that now glittered with lights against the darkness.

‘I talked to a journalist once,’ Amos recalled. ‘She asked me all sorts of tom-fool questions. Why had I chosen to live in Monte Carlo? Was it just the tax relief or was there something else? I brought her out here and became lyrical about the view.’

‘That I would have loved to hear,’ Darius said.

Amos grinned. ‘Yeah, you’d have been proud of me. The silly woman swallowed it hook, line and sinker. Then she wrote some trash about my being a man who appreciated peace and beauty. As though I gave a damn about that stuff.’

‘Some people think it has value,’ Darius murmured.

‘Some people are fools,’ Amos said firmly. ‘I’d be sorry to think you were one of them. You’ve got yourself into a mess and you need me to get you out.’

‘Two firms I did business with went bankrupt, owing me money,’ Darius said grimly. ‘I hardly created the mess myself.’

‘But you made it worse by giving Mary everything she asked for in the divorce settlement.’

‘That was before the crisis. I could afford it then.’

‘But you didn’t leave yourself any room for manoeuvre, no way to claw any of it back. You forgot every lesson I ever taught you. Now you want me to pour good money after bad.’

‘So you won’t help me?’

‘I didn’t say that, but we need to talk further. Not now. Later.’

Darius spoke through gritted teeth. ‘Will my father invest in me, or will he not?’

‘Don’t rush me.’

‘I have to. I need to make my decisions quickly.’

‘All right, here’s a way forward for you to consider. A rich wife, that’s what you need, one who’ll bring you a thumping great dowry.’