‘He doesn’t have a disease. He has a condition. A lifelong developmental disability.’

‘Is he autistic?’

‘He has AS – Asperger’s Syndrome. It’s on the autism spectrum. Tommy doesn’t have problems with learning, or speech, but he has difficulty with social interactions, and understanding, and processing language. We know far more about AS now than we did when Tommy was born. He is a lovely man but he will be with us for the rest of his days. The fear his mother has – that he will be abandoned – is simply not going to happen. She has the understandable concerns of an ageing parent who wants to protect her vulnerable son. But we will take care of Tommy as long as he needs us. And he will need us forever. There he is now.’

Tommy Defarge, who must have been in his late forties, looked like a large boy, with a shock of fair hair and dressed in clothes that someone else had chosen for him. He moved slowly, holding the arm of the man who accompanied him.

‘Who’s that with him?’ I said. ‘That’s not a nurse, is it?’

‘That’s his father,’ she said.

And I saw it was Paul Warboys.

I walked across the grounds towards them.

Paul Warboys saw me coming, and watched my face as I stared at Tommy.

This close, Tommy was clearly not a boy but a man in his middle years. Yet he had a sly, youthful grin.

‘Tommy?’ Warboys said. ‘This is Max.’

‘Hello, Tommy.’

He hugged me in his powerful arms. I hugged him back, and then gently broke free of his strong embrace.

Then I looked at Paul Warboys.

‘Fancy seeing you here,’ he said.

And I felt that finally I saw the truth.

‘So you’ve been topping up your pension plan, Paul. How could I have missed it? Madam Theresa was done. Finished. Retired from the game years ago. But she came out of retirement because someone had a job for her. And who better to bankroll her comeback than the father of her son?’

He laughed at me.

Tommy chuckled along with him.

‘No,’ said Paul Warboys. ‘It was never business with me and Theresa. Not back in the day when this one here was born. And not now. Do you think I was ever interested in her because I thought I could make a few quid? Theresa wasn’t always an old lady, Max. She was beautiful. They were all over her back in the day. Sniffing around. All those big names. Film stars, Max. Politicians.’

‘I’ve heard all the names.’

‘And she chose me,’ he said, and half a century on his voice was still full of pride. ‘A rough boy from Hammersmith.’