‘But I’m fine on that front,’ said Nelson. ‘My parents don’t charge me rent and they give me quite a generous allowance. To be honest, I’d like to quit work entirely and live off my wits, but my parents have said that they won’t support me if I do.’
‘When you say live off your wits—’
‘I mean that I could be an entrepreneur. Or I could invent something. Maybe go on The Apprentice.’
‘Would you like to go on The Apprentice, Nelson?’
‘Oh no,’ he said, shuddering at the idea. ‘I don’t know why I mentioned that. It’s my idea of hell. I couldn’t do all that ‘people call me the Velociraptor of the spreadsheet’ nonsense and I wouldn’t be comfortable sharing a bedroom with a stranger. Also, I don’t like Lord Sugar’s beard. It always looks to me as if it doesn’t know whether it’s coming or going. He’s Jewish, you know, Lord Sugar.’
Angela frowned. ‘Is that relevant in some way?’ she asked.
‘Not really. I mention it purely for biographical reasons. I might just as well have said that he was born in 1947, has a wife named Ann or was once the chairman of Tottenham Hotspur Football Club. Although, having said that, I have to admit that I’ve long been drawn to the Jewish faith. I’m not a religious man, but if I had to sign up to something in that line, then I think it would be Judaism. But I could never do that thing they do with their hair. You know, the long ringlets. My own hair is already starting to thin, you see, so it’s completely out.’
‘You’re thinking of Hassidic Judaism,’ said Angela. ‘A lot of Russian and Ukrainian Jews are Hassidic.’
‘Really?’ asked Nelson. ‘When my mother took part in Strictly Come Dancing, her partner was Ukrainian.’
‘Pylyp,’ said Angela.
‘You watch that show?’
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Everyone does. Pylyp is one of the few men on the planet who can pull off Latin trousers and a mesh shirt. In fact, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I had a bit of a fling with him once. We met in a bar and were just drawn to each other. It didn’t last very long, but it was wonderful.’
‘Really?’ said Nelson, astonished. ‘You’ll never believe this but—’
‘We’re getting side-tracked. We were talking about your living arrangements. Perhaps the fact that you still live at home means that you don’t have as many opportunities to meet women as you might like.’
‘I’m not sure I want any opportunities,’ he said. ‘That’s the thing.’
‘Do you like women, Nelson?’
He thought about it. ‘Well, you know. They’re fine.’
‘Name me a woman who you like. One who isn’t related to you.’
He thought about it.
‘Kylie Minogue,’ he said.
‘Okay. Good. Name me another.’
‘Dannii Minogue.’
‘Someone whose surname isn’t Minogue.’
‘Madonna. She doesn’t even have a surname. Nor does Cher, for that matter.’
‘And do you like them in a sexual way?’
‘I don’t think so, no. Although I’m twenty-two years old, so I suppose I’d be in with a shot if I did.’
‘Do you have posters of any women on your bedroom wall?’
‘Just one,’ he said.
‘Who?’
‘Princess Anne.’
Angela sighed.
‘Don’t you think that, really, you’re old enough to look after yourself?’ she continued. ‘And that your father should keep his money for his other responsibilities rather than spending it on his grown children?’
‘What other responsibilities? We are his responsibilities.’
‘Yes, but you never know what might come along in the future. A change in his circumstances, for example. What if he lost his job?’
‘That wouldn’t happen,’ said Nelson, shaking his head. ‘He’s far too popular. People say he’s a national treasure. Well, he says he’s a national treasure, but I assume others have said it to him and he’s just relaying the information back.’
‘Some people might say that you’re taking advantage of his good nature.’
Nelson frowned. ‘That’s a bit judgemental, don’t you think?’ he asked.
‘I’m not saying that I think it,’ she said. ‘I’m saying that some people might say it.’
‘Who are these people?’ asked Nelson. ‘Are any of them in this room? They don’t know me. They don’t know about my struggle.’
‘Your struggle?’ asked Angela, trying not to laugh. ‘And what struggle would that be? As far as I can see, you’ve had a very easy life of it.’
‘Dr Oristo was much kinder than you.’
‘I’m not Dr Oristo,’ replied Angela. ‘And I’m not here to pander. I’m here to challenge you. This is good work we’re doing and I need you to trust me. Tell me about your job.’
‘Well, I teach in the same school that I attended as a boy. I don’t know why I applied there because I was ruthlessly bullied when I was a pupil and I don’t think I’ve ever quite got over it. Perhaps I went back to see if I could ever be happy there.’
‘Why were you bullied?’
‘Because my father was on television. And because of my name.’
‘Cleverley?’
‘Yes. For some reason, people have always found it funny. There was one bully in particular, Martin Rice, and he made my life a misery. Only he went on to become a teacher too and came to the same school, so the whole cycle has started all over again. He calls me Nelson Stupidly and does everything he can to make the boys laugh at me.’
‘Have you stood up to him at all? This bête noire of yours?’
‘Oh no, I couldn’t do that,’ said Nelson, shaking his head. ‘He’s bigger than I am.’
‘But Nelson, you’re a grown man. What do you think he’s going to do to you? Flush your head down the toilet?’
‘I just wish he’d found a different school, that’s all. Or, you know, been murdered or something.’
Angela, who had been trained to watch out for warning signs like this, looked up from her notepad.
‘You’re not considering any form of violence, are you?’ she asked.
‘No, of course not. It was just a figure of speech, that’s all. Like saying, I want to have him whacked.’
‘Is that a figure of speech?’
‘It is in Martin Scorsese movies.’
‘The thing is, Nelson, I should point out that while it’s true that everything said within these walls is confidential, if I thought that you were planning on committing an illegal act, I would be professionally bound to report it to the police.’
‘I promise I’m not,’ he said. ‘I have no plans to murder Martin Rice. I only meant that if someone else had any such plans, and saw them through, then I would not mourn his passing.’
Angela pressed the clicker at the top of her ballpoint pen repeatedly in a way that Nelson found irritating. He felt a strong urge to grab it from her hands and fling it out of the window. He hoped this wasn’t a tic that she was going to continue through more of their sessions. ‘And how about the female teachers?’ she asked.