‘And I had not the least idea about James; that he had a … was queer. Not the least idea. Not at all.’

‘Would it have made any difference to you if you had known?’

‘I don’t suppose so. Hardly knew him really. It would have explained a few things; his sudden angers, sulking, his guilt. I suppose. He was quite consumed by guilt, apparently.’

‘Well, it takes people in different ways. Had he reason to be guilty? Apart from his, umm, instincts, or shall we simply call him an “invert” since you are opposed to the word “gay”?’

‘There are reasons. Yes. A wife. A child with Down’s syndrome. Reasons enough for guilt.’

Martha finished her drink, reached for a pack of cigarettes. ‘Got you. I’m sorry. Christ, it gets darker and darker. I didn’t know about wives and children. I don’t ask questions, as I told you.’

‘Yup. Those are the facts. But I honestly just can’t see how being … “gay” can be applied to him. I can’t believe it.’

‘It’s always possible. We are all apparently born half and half. Does his wife know, do you think? Was, is, she aware?’

‘It’s possible. Yes. Quite possible. I don’t see how he could have completely concealed the facts. But I’m as green as a frog.’

Martha stroked her nose with a chosen cigarette. ‘You will realize, of course, that my brother, that is to say my half-brother, same daddy, different mommas and a gulf of difference between us both, is also smitten by the same bug? He always has been. He was well mannered about it, extremely correct socially. Millie takes it all very calmly. There is no child. And never will be.’ She fished about for a lighter in the pocket of her jeans, lit her cigarette, slid it back.

‘I didn’t realize he was a half-brother.’

‘Our ages could have tipped you off, although I agree that Brent now no longer looks as once he did. Very beautiful, much younger than me, the traditional golden athlete, tall, charming, a vigorous body. Swam, rode like a god, drove very fast cars. He was greatly desired. By one and all. He has a good mind. That is still left to him. But you’d be hard put to realize how splendid he was. Since the fall, about ten years ago now, that good mind has been trapped in a wrecked carcass, strapped in a chair. Now that, in my opinion, is catastrophic for the man. That. Not discovering, fairly early in life, that he had a predilection for truck drivers and sailors. That he preferred Hansel to Gretel. It’s really no big deal.’

‘When did he and Millie marry?’