‘Your parents are Trevor and Annabel Longhurst,’ he stated now.

For perhaps half a second, Longhurst considered denying it, but he knew it would do no good. ‘Yes,’ he said.

‘Your brother was called Stephen.’

‘That’s right.’ He was still cradling the bottle of sparkling water. He twisted it open with a movement that was brief and almost violent.

Now Hawthorne was conciliatory. ‘I’m sorry to have to bring this up, Mr Longhurst,’ he said. ‘I’m sure it’s still very painful for you.’

‘You have no idea at all of my feelings, Mr Hawthorne. I was eighteen when Stephen became the centre of attention for all the wrong reasons. He was very much my baby brother, eight years younger than me. Up until then, I’d had a normal childhood; I would say a very happy one. That single moment tore my world apart.’

‘Your brother was responsible for the death of a teacher at his primary school.’

‘No. I just told you. My brother was ten years old! Whatever the law may say, I do not believe he had reached the age of responsibility and he had no idea what he was doing. He was one of life’s innocents. He fell under the influence of another boy a year older than him and that was where the trouble began. He was quite unlike the character that Ms Throsby described in her book – which was itself nothing more than a ragbag of scurrilous and ill-informed gossip put together by a hack whose only interest was in making money.’

‘So, you didn’t have that high an opinion of her, then.’

‘You can taunt me if you wish. I’ll admit that I should have disclosed my association with that woman as soon as you came into my office, but even now, all these years later, the wounds haven’t healed.’

‘It must have shocked you, then, meeting her.’

‘It wasn’t something I expected. I’ve already told you. I had a good idea that she might be at the theatre. But Ahmet wanted me to come to the first night – his financial future depended on it – and I felt I couldn’t let him down. At the same time, I thought there was little chance of us encountering one another in an auditorium with six or seven hundred people. I saw where she was sitting and I made sure to avoid her.’

‘Until you got to the restaurant …’

‘Well, yes. That was a surprise. I had no idea that she would be coming to the first-night party. Indeed, I understand that it’s a rare thing for a newspaper critic to attend. A very unpleasant surprise.’

‘So what did you say to each other?’

‘She saw me before I saw her,’ Longhurst explained. ‘Otherwise, I would have made my excuses and left. As a matter of fact, I’m quite surprised that she recognised me after all this time. But she didn’t hesitate. She came straight up to me and introduced herself, reminding me who she was, as if I would take any pleasure in seeing her again. I didn’t know what to say to her. I felt physically sick being anywhere near her. She asked after my parents. That was how she opened the conversation. I didn’t know what to say. Part of me just wanted to walk out of the room. But I replied, briefly, that they were well.’