‘I could see her point,’ Walt went on, ‘but I’d have to have found out about her mother sooner or later.’

‘Did Alexandra say why she didn’t mention Ingrid to you?’

‘Ally didn’t think we’d hit it off.’

I didn’t say so, but I reckoned ‘Ally’s’ assessment was spot on. The image of Walt swapping badinage with Ingrid Richards was too incongruous to contemplate. I wondered if another reason for keeping them apart was that Alexandra was slightly ashamed of him. Walt was way out of the league of her mother’s high-profile lovers. And Ingrid, I felt pretty sure, was not a woman to suffer fools gladly.

Another possibility, of course, was that Alexandra was afraid of Walt being attracted to her mother. Even in her seventies, Ingrid Richards still exuded sexual charisma. Did her daughter fear being upstaged yet again?

‘From all accounts,’ Walt went on, ‘by not having met her, I’m not missing much.’

I thought he was missing quite a lot. Ingrid Richards was one of the most impressive women I’d ever encountered. But again, I passed no comment.

‘Apparently, she made Ally’s life hell.’

That was less arguable. Ingrid’s track record on the maternal front had not been impressive.

‘Total lack of interest in her. Everything Ally’s achieved she’s had to achieve for herself.’

It would have been cruel to ask what Alexandra actually had achieved. Working for free for a donkey sanctuary?

He went on, ‘She was very damaged by having a mother like that. It was deeply harmful to her mental health. When we first met, Ally was totally dependent on anti-depressants and sleeping pills. Her bathroom cabinet was full of Zopiclone. I’ve seen it as part of my role in the relationship to wean her off those. And to undo some of the damage inflicted by her mother.’

God, the pomposity of the little tick. Seeing things as part of his ‘role in the relationship’. I squirmed inwardly.

‘I think Ally’s lack of self-esteem is all down to her mother. That’s why she never had any successful relationships with men – the thought of Ingrid Richards peering over her shoulder all the time. No wonder Ally was still a virgin in her thirties.’

This was more information than I required – and more than he should have been sharing. But I was surprised about her age. For me, her dowdiness had put her firmly into her forties, if not older. ‘How old is she actually?’ I asked.

‘Thirty-six,’ Walt went on. ‘And who knows how much longer she might have continued with her miserable existence of anti-depressants and sleeping pills. It’s just incredibly fortunate for her that she met me, someone who could sort out her problems with her mother, once and for all – a caring man with an understanding of women. I do have experience of women, you know.’

Yuck. What must he be like in bed? The unwanted image came to me of him tutoring Alexandra in the best ways of bringing him sexual gratification.