A close encounter

A GHOST-LIKE character shuffles slowly, almost anonymously, into a sparsely furnished room on the top floor of Dublin’s Cabinteely House.

The figure is of slight build, with a close crop of gingery hair, twinkling eyes peering from a wizened, owlish face. He is known as Albert Nobbs.

“Hello,” says Albert’s small voice as the figure extends its hand. “I’m Glenn Close.”