‘So it turns out you were spot on the other day in St James’s Park,’ I say, between mouthfuls of garlic bread. ‘There was a snapper following us. He’d been watching you for some time. I assume you know why.’

I pull out my rucksack from under the table and extract the thin folder with the photographs Wilkinson faxed me. Jeremy takes it gingerly and opens it with conspicuous trepidation. He grinds his teeth as he examines each one.

‘That’s you, isn’t it?’

He nods.

‘At the Chancellor’s home?’ Another guilty nod, like a schoolboy found with a copy of Knave in the boys’ loos. ‘Why were you at Kendall’s house in the early hours of the morning?’ He stares into his glass of water, blushing furiously. ‘My sources tell me you were shagging him.’

He stands up abruptly and I think he’s going to walk out. ‘Calm down, Jeremy. I am not here to embarrass you. I know how loyal you were to Clare so I would never do anything to hurt you. I just want to understand. Whatever happens, I don’t think your secret is going to stay secret. It’s much better if we talk and make a plan.’

Jeremy plonks himself down.

‘Gil, I’m not fucking the Chancellor.’

‘You were though, weren’t you?’

He avoids eye contact and starts absent-mindedly tapping the blade of his knife on the table.

‘For goodness’ sake, Jeremy. You’re not the only person to wake up the morning after and realise you made a stupid mistake. Tell me what happened.’

He bows his head. ‘I had to take important papers to his home. He invited me in for a drink. He flattered me and, well, one thing led to another.’ It’s like talking with a convent girl from the 1950s.

‘Were you OK with that?’

‘He’s the Chancellor. I admired him. At first I was excited. Now I think he took advantage.’

‘You’re probably right. Why was Clare at the house with you?’

‘I needed to tell someone. She was the only person I could trust. I wanted to break it off but he kept inventing reasons for me to go back to his home. I didn’t know what to do.’

‘So when did you talk to her about it?’

‘I think it was in January. It was the afternoon and I was in her office. She said I was looking a bit down and asked why and I burst into tears. It must have been the pressure of bottling everything up. I hadn’t been sleeping for days. She put an arm around me and everything came spilling out.’

‘What did she say?’

‘You know Clare. She hated bullies. And she thought Kendall had crossed a line. She was harsher on him than I was, to be honest. She was livid and said she would sort it.’

‘That sounds like Clare.’