‘Massive heroin overdose,’ he grins. Fair play, Right Dead Fred. ‘Oh my,’ whimpers Flora, raising a hand to her mouth. My mother would have called her ‘an insufferable sissy’. I’ll reserve judgement. Briefly. ‘Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart, I wasn’t one of them junkies,’ Fred reassures us, slightly disappointing me that Westmouth doesn’t have an octogenarian drug scene where they all rave to Grime remixes of Vera Lynn. ‘You get to my age and you think, why not? Thought I’d give it a whirl. Used the wrong sort of spoon – dessert spoon instead of teaspoon! Beryl always said I never could read a
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