Tom Jones sits in the day’s late sunshine wearing a navy-blue smoking jacket and a patterned cravat that ruffles beneath the tan of his face.
After 41 years in Los Angeles, he now lives in London, in an apartment that looks out over the river, and where he says he has hung pictures of the Welsh bare-knuckle fighter Dai St John, and the terraced house where he grew up in Pontypridd.
Jones is on a roll this evening, his conversation sweeping over decades and locations – Wales, Bermuda, Bel Air, Mar-a-Lago.
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