‘Apparently, I’m anti-Semitic too, although there doesn’t seem to be any real evidence for that one. Why are you home anyway? I thought you were going to stay in Ukraine for a few days?’

‘My plans changed,’ she said. ‘There was nothing there for me.’

‘Nothing for your novel, you mean?’

‘Nothing for my novel. Is this going to blow up even more?’

‘I expect so,’ he said, collapsing into an armchair. ‘They’re out to get me and won’t be happy until I’ve been stripped naked, dragged through the streets of London and dumped head first in the Thames.’

‘Who?’ asked Beverley. ‘Who won’t be happy?’

‘The POOTs.’

‘Oh, why do you even pay attention, George?’ she asked, frustrated by how personally he took all of this. ‘Who cares what they think? These people live in an echo chamber. Well, most of them still live with their parents, but you know what I mean.’

‘Because I don’t like it when they say terrible things about me. A man’s reputation is all he has.’

‘You also have this house,’ she pointed out. ‘And about ten million quid in the bank. None of the POOTs has that.’

‘It just frustrates me, since I’ve been a dyed-in-the-wool liberal my entire life. You of all people know that.’

‘I do, yes,’ admitted Beverley.

‘What’s most upsetting is how things seem to have changed. I’m starting to feel that nowadays there’s no one more bigoted than a liberal. The right-wingers, at least they own their hatred and don’t try to dress it up in anything other than the intolerant, narrow-minded, self-serving bullshit that it is. You know where you are with the Right. But the Left? My God, disagree with them for even a moment, dare to ask a question or deviate from the company line, and they’re on you like flies on shit. They won’t stand for even an iota of disagreement, pleading for kindness while masking their own intolerance in sanctimony. It’s McCarthyism hidden beneath the umbrella of Wokeness.’

‘As I understand it,’ said Beverley with a sigh, ‘Wokeness is about creating a fairer and more equal society.’

‘It might have started out like that,’ replied George, looking downcast. ‘At the beginning, its heart was in the right place. But now it’s about nothing more than tearing people down, stalking them on social media and, if they can get away with it, destroying the lives of strangers. Usually successful strangers, I might add. I’ve spent my entire life trying to be a decent, honourable man, and look where it’s got me. You know, earlier today, some lunatic posted an eighteen-tweet-thread about what a monster I am. A man who’s never even met me and yet presumes to know everything about me.’

‘Yes, but someone like that has mental health issues. Why give him the time of day?’