And then he pulled a heavy, chrome-plated crowbar from inside his coat, and I understood exactly how far he was prepared to go.

Tessa saw it too, and rather than recoil, she crossed her arms, and a cruel, triumphant smile broke across her face.

“Destroy it, Julian,” she said.

“Destroy every single device in this room.

Let’s see how much leverage she has without her precious spreadsheets.” There is a particular horror in watching a mother calmly instruct her son to smash his way through his ex-wife’s home, in hearing the pleasure in her voice at the prospect.

But underneath my genuine fear, and I was afraid, a man with a crowbar in your living room is frightening regardless of what you have planned, there was something else, something steady and cold and waiting.