‘Then you’ll understand what they’d been through together. All wars are bad but civil wars are worse. After an experience like that, very little upsets you. I’m not sure this is an appropriate metaphor, but as a couple they had extremely low blood pressure. They got by on very little – no money, no real security, no place to call their own – but it never seemed to matter, and that kind of timbre, that kind of fortitude, that degree of bottom, earns you serious brownie points in a little town like this. People here, dare I say it, have the means and the education and perhaps even the breeding, the self-confidence, to turn their backs on the world, but Chris and Andy pulled exactly the same trick with barely a penny to their names. Serious respect, my dear. And not only from yours truly.’

I duck my head and reach for my cup. I’ve bumped into men like Bill Penny once or twice before in my life. He happens to have made his name as a diplomat. A couple of others I know have earned a fortune in the city, or – like Pavel – become a byword among thesps who recognize genius in the opening scene of a film script. On first acquaintance, they can appear undistinguished, ordinary, even a bit of a disappointment, but what they all have in common is a steely concentration of talent and effort that gives them what I can only describe as X-ray vision. They have no time for imposters. They see through faux bonhomie. And they celebrate life’s genuine articles when they swim into focus. Which takes us back to McFaul.

‘Do you like him?’

‘Yes. Very much. I’d do anything for the man, and he knows it. I even offered him money once, a sizeable sum, no strings attached, and I’m sure you can guess his response.’

‘He turned you down.’

‘Worse than that, or perhaps better. He just laughed, and you know what, my dear? I cherish that moment. This was recently. I happened to know they were barely making ends meet and on top of that Chris had just had the diagnosis. You’ll be aware of the details, because I’m guessing Andy has told you, and so you can imagine the kind of state they must have been in. But there it was. A significant sum of money. Enough, perhaps, to buy them a treat or two before the curtain came down. Yet he just laughed. Not unkindly. Not to insult me. Quite the contrary. It just struck him as funny. Or perhaps absurd. Either way, I take my hat off to both of them. This world of ours hasn’t got much space left for people like Andy, and like that wonderful girl of his, and that’s our loss. God speed, eh? And bon voyage.’