He’s right. I demolish the first in a couple of bites and help myself to another.

‘You know what happened?’ I reach for a serviette to wipe my mouth. ‘To Christianne?’

‘Yeah.’

‘The problem with the cliff? All that?’

‘Yeah.’

‘The police have given up now. It’s all over, finished, done.’

‘Sure.’

‘So, what really happened? Is that why you asked me down? Is that why I’m here?’

‘Not really, but since you ask …’ He shrugs. ‘Why not?’

Christianne, he confirms, had made a decision to call it quits. What had finally made a difference was the Sunday morning she’d woken up and had difficulty swallowing.

‘She was terrified of not being able to eat properly, not being able to take liquid, not being able to talk. She knew her body was telling her something and she no longer wanted to be around when it decided to pack up completely. Odd, really. Because in most other respects she was really patient.’

‘You’re blaming her?’

‘Not at all. It was a gutsy decision. I was with her all the way.’

All the way. I nod. I bet he was.

‘She had access to Fentanyl?’

‘She did. She’d been saving it up, squirreling it away.’

‘How? Where from?’

‘It doesn’t matter. She had enough tablets. More than enough. That’s all you need to know.’

‘So how did she take it?’

‘Crushed. With a glass of red wine. Alta 904 Gran Reserva if you want the full story. Cost us a fortune.’

I nod, trying to imagine what a lethal dose of Fentanyl married to a vintage Rioja must taste like.

‘So, where did this take place?’

‘At Bill’s. We’d worked it out weeks before. We knew it was going to happen sooner or later. Presley had made the coffin. Beth had painted it, her own design of course, not to my taste at all, but then I wasn’t doing the dying. It was the Sunday night. Chris hadn’t been at all well. I drove her round to Bill’s and Presley and Beth joined us later. By that time, Chris had gone.’

‘Just the three of you, then? You, Chris, and Bill?’

‘Just the two of us. Chris wanted to die on that chaise longue of Bill’s. She loved it, and she loved the view from that window as well. Bill stayed downstairs until it was over.’

Over. Dear God.

‘She was happy? At the end?’

‘No. But that’s another story.’

‘You want to share it? Tell me?’

‘No.’ He shakes his head. ‘Bill’s son was in the house as well. He was staying the weekend. Between us, we got Chris into the coffin and put her in the back of Presley’s van. Nathan had arrived by now. We drove across to the golf club and he showed Presley the way to the bit of the fence we needed.’

‘You’d already dug the grave?’