“I didn’t have the chance to find out before...” Matilda sliced a finger across her own neck. “If you want my advice, make sure you leave work on time, before she hits the gin. I stayed late one night and Medusa started droning on about the only man she ever loved. She claimed she couldn’t finish writing her book without him. Totally pitiful.”

“Who is he?” Liv said, intrigued.

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Matilda performed a fake yawn and fanned her mouth. “Have you seen those huge bouquets of white roses she gets? What man would be crazy enough to send them to her?”

“Did she ever mention the name Anthony?”

“No.” Matilda frowned. “Who?”

Liv pursed her lips, not wanting to mention Essie had a solicitor. It would be nice to think she had someone special in her life, to hold her hand in her final hours.

“Did you know Medusa wouldn’t read my boyfriend’s manuscript and give him feedback?” Matilda carried on. “He worked on it for two whole years.”

“Reading a book takes me around eight hours,” Liv said, her mind still on Essie’s mystery man. “It’s a big commitment.”

Matilda gave her a withering look. “She owns all these gorgeous designer clothes, yet wouldn’t lend me anything to wear to a wedding. And she refused to give me a reference when I left.”

“What kind of things did you do for her?” Liv prompted.

Matilda eyed her for a while. “Promise me a reference from her, if I tell you.”

“I can’t do that...”

Matilda tossed her head and folded her arms.

Liv’s temples began to pound. She was sure yesterday’s champagne was still running in her bloodstream. “Okay, okay,” she relented.

Setting down her smoothie glass, Matilda counted on her fingers. “I did everything. I answered her fan correspondence, and fought off all the requests for free books. Most readers are darlings, so sweet, but there’s always some scroungers...” She sighed dramatically. “And there’s this guy who mails her weird things. Watch out for him.”

Liv shivered. “What things?”

“Strange poems, and he once made her a blanket out of his cat’s hair.”

“That sounds...warm.”

Matilda continued. “I handled her Facebook, Twitter and Insta. She actually made me write the instructions down in a file. Totally Neanderthal.

“Then, there’s all the stuff she gets asked to do. Can she open a school fete, or run a writing workshop, or present certificates to students, or sit on a literature festival writing panel? All in exchange for a cup of tea and a Kit Kat.