Like a fool, I asked, ‘What film was that then?’ Mary stiffened in the high-backed chair and sucked in enough air to fill a balloon. A carer overheard me, looked over and grinned. I knew then that it was going to be a lengthy revelation. ‘Well,’ she began, ‘I can’t remember the name of it, dear. It was about this man, that actor. You know, the one that married Liz Taylor. You know, that bloke with the deep sexy voice. Welsh feller was in Cleopatra. Him in the Roman tunic with the legs. What’s his name? Anyway, he keeps making rotten things happen, disasters like.’ ‘It starts with him just staring out of his flat window. He’s watching a plane coming in to land in London, and he’s making it fall out of the sky with his mind. Then somebody behind him smashes his skull to stop him. But the…