Last Sunday when she was there, and a March wind was blowing so hard outside that they had decided against walking, Simon stretched his long body languidly and smiled round at her. ‘Marvellous, this music. It just sounds like freedom to me – and sunshine and all the good things.’ He twisted round and sat sideways on, laying his hand on her breast, looking longingly at her. ‘Good, good things.’

His touch had filled her with desire, making her arch her back a little, but she was afraid. Every time they were together now, Simon became more and more insistent. They kissed, and often progressed far further than that, up in his bedroom overlooking the back garden. At first he had begged her to let him see her breasts, and at last she had let him undress her, unbuttoning her blouse with a wondering, hungry expression on his face, which made her love him all the more, fumbling so that she had to help, then unfastening her brassiere, peeling it away to expose her breasts, white and neatly rounded.

‘Oh,’ he said. ‘You’re perfect.’

He’d knelt and licked her nipples as she sat on the side of the bed, and at first she was embarrassed to see a man on his knees in front of her like that. She took his head in her arms and held him as his tongue gave her lovely sensations that went right through her. Again she had the feeling of being swept along by him. He looked up longingly at her.

‘I want to lie with you,’ he said. ‘You’re my woman, and I want you. Say you’ll be mine, Katie? Come here . . .’ He got to his feet and started to lay her back on the bed, which had a soft, silky green eiderdown on it. She was drawn along by his desire. But then she baulked. In those seconds, confused misgivings swarmed in her head. Oh yes, he wanted her – but wasn’t he just a spoilt boy who always made sure he got his own way? What about what she wanted and her feelings? But hadn’t she led him on? Now they had got this far, it seemed wrong to refuse him what he needed. She would have to do it . . .

But panic rose in her. ‘I can’t . . . Not yet . . .’ She pulled away. ‘I just – I don’t know . . . I’m not ready. What if – I mean, you know, a baby . . . ?’ Now they were talking again she felt exposed and chilly, and tried to cover herself with her free arm.

‘You won’t have a baby,’ he said firmly. He came and held her, talking to her rather as if she were a child. ‘It doesn’t happen that quickly, and anyway I’ve got something to stop it. Please believe me, Katie darling, there’s no harm – it’s the most beautiful thing in the world.’ She could sense his urgency. She looked up at him.