I had booked a swim next door. I ate the second Jaffa Cake on the stairs, on the way to my room.

‘Mrs Keene, look at me not drowning,’ George called out as he lay on his back in the water, less stiff, less starfish-like. ‘I could lie here and not drown for hours on end.’

He didn’t though.

He was soon sitting poolside, working on a cryptic crossword puzzle, calling out clues that made no sense to me.

‘“Grab her for a chance at empire”?’ He shrugged. ‘I of all people should have some sort of a shot at that one. Six letters. Third one’s an E.’

I swam some laps, four strokes and a turn, four strokes and a turn. By the time I surfaced again, George was gone.

From the kitchen doorway, Mrs Keene noticed me drying myself and called out, ‘Mr Lascelles is in the library. He went to look something up and I expect he’s become horribly distracted.’

I put on my tracksuit and my socks. The floor was cold, as it always was.

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Mrs Keene said. ‘First door on the left after the sitting room.’

George was standing at a cluttered oval table with an encyclopedia open in front of him. The library had shelves of books along one wall and running under the windows that looked out to the hedge and our front room. Its fireplace backed onto the one in the sitting room, and appeared identical to it. In one corner was a tall glass case with small objects on shelves.

‘French Revolution,’ he said, his finger keeping his place on the page. ‘“For less confronting nightwear, French revolutionary turns his mind to a neutral pajama.” That’s the clue. “Revolutionary turns” means it’s bound to be an anagram, yes? “Pajama” with “a” instead of “y” is the American spelling, and that must be deliberate. Necessary for the anagram. I’m trying to work out which French revolutionary has a name that’s an anagram of “neutral pajama”.’

There were other books on the table, and a mostly red poster that had been unrolled but not mounted or framed. It was curling up at the ends. The severed heads at Madame Tussauds – were any of them revolutionaries?

‘Mack and Mabel,’ he said, pushing the encyclopedia aside before I could offer any views on the crossword clue. He flattened the poster with his hands, so we could both see it better. ‘I’ve been hoping to secure the rights to stage it in the UK. I saw it on Broadway. It closed there after only eight weeks, which helps my chances of acquiring the rights over the West End companies. It’s a far, far better show than that.’ He started humming.