He had flatly refused. ‘It’s not just the Last Post: it’s the last place on earth I’d want to be. I’d rather be in prison for the rest of my life. At least if anyone shouts or screams in the middle of the night there you can be pretty sure someone will stop them, and even prisoners don’t have to wear a ridiculous premature shroud. That sadistic Matron keeps trying to shove a catheter up my penis and she won’t let me have a chamber pot. If you don’t get me into a really decent guest house, I’ll make things extremely awkward for you with that husband of yours.’ Clarissa couldn’t imagine how. ‘Well, I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee anything …’ ‘You’d better put your mind to it then. I know what you get up to every time you come down here, supposedly to see me. Do you think Gadsley knows you sleep with the man who drives you down?’ ‘What are you talking about?’ ‘Adultery. Or fornication, if you prefer. You see, the manager of the Black Bear is ex-army.
