Warner clasped his hands on his lap. “It’s as I told you before. Unhindered immigration is bleeding our country dry, membership in Europe is a millstone around our necks and kowtowing to the bloody Scots and Welsh and Irish is sapping our national identity. Sometimes it seems almost a crime to stand up and say you’re English.”

“Well, that just about covers it,” said Annie. “Though some would say immigrants contribute more to the economy than they take from it.”

“That’s what they’d have you believe. You’ve all been brainwashed.”

“By whom?”

“The lefties. And before you get on to it, I’ve got nothing against the NHS or the benefits system, or the welfare state in general. As long as they’re for the benefit of our own.”

“By that you mean white people?”

“It’s not really an issue of color, but I wouldn’t expect you to understand that. I mean English people.”

“I take it these views didn’t go over too well when you were studying politics in Warwick?”

“The universities are run by lefties, just like the BBC. You wouldn’t get any of them to listen to a reasonable, balanced argument from the right.”

“These men we’ve brought in,” Annie went on. “The British Pakistanis. Their grandparents came here after partition, mostly to work in the cotton and woolen mills up north. Their parents were born here, they grew up here. Doesn’t that make them British?”

“It takes a bit more than that.”

“So they need to behave a bit more like us?”

“Basically.”

“Binge drinking, football hooliganism, casual racism and the rest?”

“That’s a fringe element. Why am I here? Obviously not to talk politics.”

“Right,” said Annie. “When we talked before, I asked you about last Tuesday, and you said that you and Albert went back to your place after you’d been in the Hope and Anchor. About ten wasn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“And after you’d had a few drinks and watched some DVDs, Albert crashed on your sofa for the night?”

“That’s right. Yes. You already know all this.”

“Bear with us, Paul. You went to sleep, or passed out, in your own bed, at about three in the morning, right?”

“Yes.”

“Both at the same time?”

“What?”

“Did you both fall asleep at the same time?”

“Probably not. I mean, not precisely. Why?”

“Who fell asleep first?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you remember letting down the sofa bed?”

“Not really.”

“And why would you stay up after he fell asleep?”

“I’m not saying I did. What’s this all about?”

“Do you remember hearing Albert snoring or anything?”

“No. I can’t say I do.”

“But you’re certain he was there the whole time? He didn’t go out or anything?”

“No.”

“Would you have noticed it? If you were asleep and he was awake, say?”