Do you have children, Cecil?” “No, Mrs. Cartwright, I can’t say I do. I did have someone, a partner. But . . . you know.” “No, tell me, Cecil.” “They went to Spain.” “They?” “Well . . . he went to Spain, I should say. Ibiza. To live.” Helen locks Cecil in a stare. “How terrible.” “Oh right, yes, well it knocked me for six, I can tell you. I’m used to it now, of course, though am ashamed to admit I’ve looked for him on the internet, and can’t find a thing. Not a sausage.”
