“How did it go?”

“It was terrible. And I have to go back tomorrow.”

“Where to?”

“A disgracefully luxurious house in Pontoon.”

They sat in front of the fire silently watching nothing till Catherine suddenly said: “Do you think we should keep up this silly vow of fidelity?”

“It was you who asked me to keep it,” he replied sharply.

“Well, I was thinking that we should be loyal without entering into some prehistoric oath,” she continued. “We would just have to act responsibly.”

“I don’t think we are responsible people,” said Jack. “You can drop it if you like, but I’m going to keep it.”

“Oh, I don’t intend to drop it if you don’t.”

“Neither of us,” said Jack, “is strong enough to be able to be true to the other.”

“Perhaps you are right,” she said tactfully.

They drank till the bottles were gone. Then she stood by the table carefully picking bits of the dinner off the plate.

“Why do you cook bacon and cabbage?” she asked him.

“It’s a traditional Irish dish,” he replied.

“Not where I come from,” she replied, “and certainly not steeped in grease.”

“I like it like that.”

“Well I don’t like it.”

“That’s the way that it’s done.”

“It looks revolting.”

“Fuck you, Catherine,” he said.

The following night she did not come back at all. He phoned the producer’s home.

“I would like to speak to Catherine Adams,” said Jack to his secretary.

“Is she one of the actresses?”

“Yes.”

“I think they are all finished for the day.”

“Could you check?”

“Look, I’m certain they’ve all gone.”

“She has not returned home.”

“Oh.”

“So will you please take a look for her?”

“I think not.”

“What do you mean?”

“If Miss Adams is having an audition, I would not like to see her interrupted.”

“It will only take a minute to tell her I’ve called.”

“Could I have your name.”

“Jack,” he said. “Jack Ferris.”

When Hugh called to collect him, he did not go. The boat left without him. He stalked the house all day. He tried to imagine who Catherine was with. He went through all manner of vivid recreations of her love-making with another. He loaded the fire with turf and stood at the window. He walked the road over and back through the dunes. He stood in a hollow down from the house and watched through the blowing sands for any oncoming traffic. Every car that appeared, he followed its path along the low peninsula. He watched the headlights coming up the road, and then sweeping by. No car went to the Adams’ house. He felt like he might kill her now. He went in and filled a glass.

He walked around under the stars.

“God damn you,” he said.