Fadila’s English, like her cooking, is low in calories. Harry lured her away from a Portuguese family restaurant in Pimlico. He did a lot of luring in his time. Fleur doubts if she will stay now that the house has gone quiet. She sees with painful clarity that Harry’s friends and dependants – not clearly separated in his mind – are not very interested in her. They have made the right noises since his death of course, elegant notes arrived, but the elderly wives are frightened of her.

When the front-door bell rings, Luis is there in his short white jacket to greet the visitor.

He shows Artair into the drawing room. Artair is wearing a smallish checked hat on top of his hair, which is now almost white. He is covered from head to toe in a dense green overcoat which he hands magisterially to Luis after a brief struggle to get it off. Underneath he wears worn corduroy and a spangled waistcoat over a green T-shirt. He appears to have been rummaging in the props cupboard.

‘Fleur, my darling, you look wonderful.’

He kisses her on her cheeks three times and then takes her hand and kisses that. His teeth are grey and chipped. She hasn’t seen bad teeth for a while.

‘How are you, dear Artair?’

‘Marvellous. But I’ve missed you for every one of the eighteen years.’

‘We weren’t right, really, were we?’

‘Who’s to say? You were too young, of course.’

‘Not any more. I feel I am ageing fast.’

‘You really don’t look a day older.’

She’s wearing black leggings under a small and youthful pleated skirt; she spent some time deciding on this look. She feels more like Emma Bovary than ever. Artair looks terrible: his nose and cheeks are a mass of blood vessels just under the skin, and melanin spots are on triumphal march across his brow.

Luis pours the champagne into two long flutes. Artair gulps his. He accepts another.

‘How’s the theatre company, Artair?’

‘Well, thanks to your cheque, it’s fine for the moment. But big news, completely confidential, yes?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘The news is that I am in negotiation with Daniel Day-Lewis about a film – could possibly be theatre – based on the life and works of Flann O’Brien.’

‘You always loved Flann O’Brien. Is Day-Lewis up for it?’

‘So far, so good. I’m not allowed to say more. You know the business.’