‘Who are you, Ben?’ he asked now, leaning forward and looking his colleague in the eye.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I said, who are you? Tell me who you are.’

‘I’m Ben Bimbaum,’ said Ben, looking uncomfortable. ‘Don’t you remember? You’re not having a stroke, are you?’

‘I don’t mean your name. Pretend that I’m a complete stranger and I’ve asked you to tell me who you are. What do you say?’

‘Well, I’m a producer at the BBC,’ replied Ben, whose face was flushing scarlet now. ‘I work in light entertainment on the Cleverley show.’

‘And that’s it?’ asked George, looking disappointed. ‘That’s all you are? That’s what defines you?’

‘I’m also a father,’ added Ben. ‘And a husband. I enjoy fly-fishing but can never get the time to pursue this passion. I’m an Anglican and my faith is strong.’

‘That’s more like it,’ said George, smiling as he slapped the table. ‘Now don’t stop. Tell me more. I want to hear your deepest, darkest secrets.’

‘I’m a fervent royalist but believe that Princess Diana was not quite as saintly as some people like to think. And if Prince Philip did something to the brakes of her car, which is often rumoured, then maybe she had no one to blame but herself. Although we must remember that it was the Queen herself who was a mechanic during the war so, if anyone knows how to disconnect a brake line, it would be her.’

‘I met Diana many times,’ replied George, developing a glassy-eyed look at the memory. ‘Charming lady. Gorgeous skin. But you’re not wrong. She was as mad as a box of frogs.’

‘Did you ever have her on the show?’

‘Of course not. Royalty don’t go on chat shows. I mean, Fergie’s always reaching out, of course, but she doesn’t count. Carry on. Tell me more.’

‘I’m a member of a book club, but it’s been seven months since I managed to get through one of the novels,’ continued Ben, warming to his theme now. ‘I usually just glance at a couple of online reviews before going to the meetings and pass off their opinions as my own. The last one I tried, well, it didn’t even seem to be written in English.’

‘That’s pretty common these days, I understand. But I bought an eight-hundred-page biography earlier today and I’m determined to read it from cover to cover. Anything else? Any other defining points?’

‘Not really, no. I think that just about covers it.’

‘All right. Now tell me something about yourself that you’ve never told anyone before.’

‘Such as?’

‘Well, how should I know? Tell me one of your secrets. Something you’ve never even told Mark.’

‘Matthew,’ said Ben.

‘It’s the biblical names,’ replied George, waving this away. ‘That’s why I keep getting mixed up.’

Ben thought about it and looked as if he might start crying. ‘I don’t want to,’ he said, sounding as anxious as a fourteen-year-old boy with a bad case of acne being dragged into a game of Spin the Bottle.