‘Gareth wants us to go round after dinner for a drink,’ she said. ‘He says he can’t wait until Friday.’

‘Do you like him?’ I asked Jeremy, as though it were only his opinion that mattered.

‘Yes, I do. He’s one of my oldest friends. We were at Oxford together. His father was a Welsh miner, and he was a scholarship boy with a chip as big as a plank on his shoulder. Then he ended up with a first.’

‘He’s got a mind like a steel trap but he’s not at all academic,’ added Gussie. ‘All he’s ever wanted to do is make masses of money. He’s got his own company now, with thousands of little men working for him putting up sky-scrapers. He’s the most energetic man I’ve ever met.’

‘He sounds exhausting,’ I said, filling Jeremy’s drink.

‘Not really,’ said Jeremy. ‘You occasionally feel you want to add water, but on the whole he’s fine.’

‘Won’t he get bored on the boat?’

‘Not with you around. He loves girls.’

‘He has time for them?’

‘Oh, yes,’ sighed Gussie. ‘He’s awfully attractive. He makes you feel all body, somehow.’

Dinner was a success. Luigi’s had surpassed themselves. Both Jeremy and Gussie were extremely impressed.

Over coffee, I opened Gussie’s chocolates.

‘Oh, we oughtn’t to,’ said Gussie, rootling round for a soft centre. ‘We bought them for you.’

It was then that I played my trump card. Turning to Jeremy I said, ‘You never let on you were the Jeremy West. You’ve been a god of mine ever since I can remember. I’ve got all your books.’

How sweet he looked when he blushed.

‘And you’ve actually read them?’

‘Of course. I know most of your poems by heart. I like the one about Victoria Station late at night best.’ I reeled off a few lines.