On Tuesday evening, in his Buick, Grant had told six-year-old Sophie that if she didn’t tell the court advocate her mother was unstable, the judge would get angry and take her bedroom away.

That was why Sophie had asked me in the bath whether judges got angry when kids said the wrong thing.

He had built her fear from a written script to protect his own money transfers.

“Has Richard Hale already got the final settlement draft ready?” I asked.

Grant smiled warmly and leaned across the little table to cover my hand with his palm.

“Hale is wrapping up the residential custody clauses today,” Grant said.