I treated Ben’s reference to Mr Right with another dry ‘Ha ha’ and asked how the course was going.

‘Good. I’m working on an animation project for the end of term.’

‘What’s it about?’

‘It’s funny. At least, it’s meant to be funny. Hope it is. Only three minutes.’

I knew from Oliver’s dabbling in animation just how long it could take to produce three minutes. ‘Good luck with it.’

‘I’m basing it on “Riq and Raq” … you know, the strip that Dad did.’

‘Of course I know, Ben.’

As well as his political cartoons, Oliver had developed ‘Riq and Raq’ as a kind of social commentary on a young couple with a small child negotiating the difficulties of life in London. I was delighted to hear that Ben was using his father’s work as an inspiration. It was rarely that he talked about Oliver. In that he was unlike his sister. Jools absolutely never talked about him.

‘Yes, you would know,’ said Ben. ‘Anyway, I’m kind of updating that, seeing how Riq and Raq … or any young couple, really … would cope in today’s world … with electric cars and social media and fake news.’

‘Great idea.’

‘Yes.’ He didn’t sound convinced.

‘You know, of course, that “Riq and Raq” was based on us. Your father and I were Riq and Raq. And Juliet was the baby. You hadn’t arrived back then.’

‘No.’ The brightness with which he had started the conversation seemed to have dissipated.

I couldn’t stop myself from saying, ‘You know, if you want to come down here for a weekend or something, you’re always welcome.’

‘I know that,’ he said flatly.

There was a silence. I tried to jolly him along. ‘And is your “Riq and Raq” also based on a real couple?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, I thought maybe you and Tracey …?’

It was a clumsy way to introduce her into the conversation and probably deserved the sharp ‘No’ it got by way of response.

‘All all right there?’

‘Oh yes,’ he replied airily. Too airily. ‘Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.’

I should probably have stopped digging but I couldn’t. ‘I do look forward to meeting Tracey some time,’ I said.

‘Oh. Well.’ Ben sounded confused. ‘There might not be much point in you doing that.’

‘What do you mean? Are you not seeing her any more?’

‘Who knows?’ he replied unhelpfully.

‘Are you saying it’s over?’

‘Oh no,’ he replied, exactly as he had just said, ‘Oh yes’. ‘No, no, no, no, no.’

‘Then what are you saying, Ben?’

‘I’m just saying that there are plenty more fish in the sea. Plenty more pebbles on the beach. Plenty more fish on the beach. Gasping for breath,’ he concluded mournfully.

‘In other words, you and Tracey are no longer seeing each other?’

‘Oh, by no means. What I’m saying is that we are still in theory seeing each other.’

‘In theory?’

‘Neither of us is seeing anyone else, but …’