I’M off to the library to get some (William) Somerset Maugham novels. What a cracking writer; eerily contemporary with a formal, literary dialogue that really captures the essence of character and place.

I can’t believe that The Sacred Flame was written as long ago as 1928 and why we haven’t seen more of this great playwright in contemporary theatres. My compliments go to English Touring Theatre’s artistic director, Matthew Dunster, for switching on the light.

Dunster works so tirelessly to stick meticulously to the script, however I do think he made a mistake by chucking out the chintz and stripping the stage of all the floss and frippery of the age, leaving only a hospital bed and a few plastic chairs.

Another anomaly is the white noise of modern music, as if someone is running their fingers round a glass producing an annoying constant whine.

The story follows Maurice Tabret (Jamie De Courcey), who returns unscathed from the Great War to marry his sweetheart, Stella (Beatriz Romilly), and after only a year of marriage he’s crippled in a motor accident, leaving him bedridden.

He’s found dead in bed one morning and his devoted nurse cries foul, believing him to be the victim of murder.

The dialogue is delicious, a veritable feast of unexpected psychological tension.

A perfect performance from Margot Leicester as the thoroughly modern Mrs Tabret, and the gritty Sarah Churm as Nurse Wayland, who, although she seemed a little young for the part, managed to carry it off with aplomb.

This is a whodunit, or rather a who didn’t do it, without a red-herring in sight and with enough hidden layers to keep you guessing to the very end.