Time to move things on. ‘Look, I don’t want to keep you, Alexandra, since you’ve got company. Maybe you could show me the papers you took from Ingrid’s flat …?’

‘Yes, I—’

‘Just a minute,’ said Walt, addressing Alexandra rather than me. ‘What right has she got to look at your stuff?’

‘She’s got as much right as you have!’ Alexandra snapped back, confirming that the disagreement I’d witnessed through the window was about his going through her papers. But as soon as the words were spoken, she backtracked. ‘I’m sorry, Walt, that came out wrong.’

‘Yes, it did rather,’ he chided her, ‘but don’t worry. The reason it’s all right for me to look through your stuff, lovie, is because we’re an item.’ He seemed to be fixated on the word. ‘It’s only natural at the beginning of a new and exciting relationship to want to know as much as you can about the other person. There shouldn’t be any secrets between us. That’s why we need to know the passcodes for each other’s mobile phones. What’s yours is mine, lovie.’

‘Yes, of course, lovie,’ said a meek Alexandra.

‘But,’ Walt went on, looking contemptuously at me, ‘that doesn’t apply to her.’

I’d had enough of this. Looking him straight in the eye, I said, ‘I am here because Alexandra asked me to come and look at some papers from her late mother’s flat. I am a professional declutterer. I know Alexandra because she contacted me about Ingrid Richards’ hoarding habit and the potential fire risk in her flat.’ I turned to look straight at Alexandra. ‘So, either you show me the stuff you wanted me to look at or I will leave.’

‘No, of course you must see it … having come so far.’ She reached over Walt’s shoulders to the piles of paper on the desk, and produced a file, once red now faded pink. Then she announced, ‘I feel in need of a drink.’

‘Budweiser,’ said Walt.

‘Can I get you something, Ellen?’

‘No, thanks.’ I’d wait for a large Merlot when I got back to Chichester. I felt a pang. Because, of course, when I got back to Chichester, there’d be nothing to stop me agonizing about Ben.

Alexandra had drifted through to the kitchen. Walt sat back in the desk chair, appraising me. ‘I suppose it would be easier for you to read that if you sat here,’ he said.

‘It might.’

He nodded, making no effort to move.

‘But I could do it perfectly adequately on the sofa,’ I said, gliding in that direction.

‘No, no, it’s all right.’ He stood up, gesturing overelaborately towards the vacated chair. ‘You did hear about Ally’s Mum, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, of course I did.’

‘I didn’t meet her. In fact, Ally didn’t mention her until after the news of her death was all over everything.’

‘Really?’ That sounded odd to me.

‘She said she wanted our relationship to be uncluttered.’

There, of course, was a word that resonated with me. And I thought, not for the first time, how much of the emotional clutter which surrounded people was caused by other family members.