‘Nobody knew that for most of our life together she was in a very passionate relationship with Dermott Presley, family man, beloved of the nation, blah-blah-blah . . .’ Eggy sat back into the sofa. ‘I had to read all the newspaper obituaries, too. And the glowing eulogies in the red-tops. And watched all those saccharine TV memorials.’ He shook his head slowly, thoughtfully. ‘He was a friend of mine actually, Salz. Before. We’d worked together at Liverpool Rep, back in the day. And when the TV show was looking for a partner for Phoo, in the sitcom, ’twas I who put forward his name. Anyhow, one thing led to another. You know what it’s like when you’re off on location in the middle of nowhere. I thought it would pass. But no. They managed to carry it on in a most furtive manner right up to his death. I myself knew nothing, till a few years ago, when Phoo became very anxious, and confessed all. She was like Niobe, all tears, as she sat and told me her worries – that Dermott was seeing someone else.’

‘Not his wife, by any chance?’

‘He was married throughout, and seemingly the most assiduous husband . . . It appears that his wife never had an inkling. Still doesn’t. In fact, when Dermott was told by the doctors that he didn’t have long, he called my agent and asked me to come into the hospital for a private meeting.’

‘He wanted to say sorry to you?’

‘No.’ Eggy gave a sad smile. ‘He wanted me to do him a few last favours. One was to find a suitcase full of letters tied up in pink ribbons – his correspondence with Phoo, over the years. He didn’t want his family finding and reading them, after he was gone.’

Sally was speechless. What an absolute horror for poor Eggy.

‘The other task was to remove and dispose of a box full of pornographic magazines hidden under the bed in his study. And let me tell you, we’re not talking Playboy. It was . . . well . . . appalling stuff.’

‘Did you?’

Eggy nodded.

‘Did you read the letters?’

Eggy shook his head. ‘Burned them on the barbecue.’

‘How did Dermott keep up such a pretence for so long? You’d think the papers would have been on to him.’

‘He wasn’t the first.’ Eggy shrugged. ‘I imagine he won’t be the last. But he always handled it majestically. Neither the public nor his family will ever know. Not unless a handful of people, including me, spill the beans. But you see, we all have so much to lose. Why would I do that to myself? To make muggins here look like a prime fool? I’d only come over as a vindictive cuckold having his last revenge on his “love-rival”? I don’t think so.’

He shuffled around a little on the sofa. ‘Actually, Salz, darling, if you don’t mind I will have that cuppa.’