‘Where are you staying tonight?’ I asked. ‘Are you staying with your friend in town?’

’No,’ replied Candida. ‘I’m staying with you.’

In the morning, I left her sleeping in the hotel, and returned with croissants and coffee in paper cups, and pink roses from the newsagents. I’d dreamed of waking her with breakfast in bed and the scent of roses, but in fact she woke when the clumsy door banged behind me. When I climbed back into bed, Candida lay resting against me, her head on my shoulder, her light frame still heavy with the remains of sleep.

‘What did you think of me, when you first saw me?’ I asked her.

‘I thought you were one of the prettiest men I’d ever seen,’ said Candida. ‘Look, you’ve got longer eyelashes than me.’ She reached forward and gently brushed the tips of my eyelashes with her fingertips. ‘Now I have to ask you, don’t I? What did you think of me?’

‘I thought of music when I first saw you. I saw your back, that swishing silver skirt, and I thought you were a dancer. Your head was held so straight. I followed you to the drinks machine, and willed you to turn around.’

Candida got up and, wrapping a towel around her, went to the window, looking out over the bay. ‘I used to come here as a child, on day trips. We’d go to the amusement park in Margate, and then come here for the beach. Daddy and I played a sort of tennis on the beach, with big plastic rackets and enormous spongy balls.’ She turned back to face me. ‘We had such a perfect day yesterday; it seems crazy that Daddy thinks you wouldn’t be good for me.’

I went up to her and put my arms around her, watching the waves roll in over the beach. ‘If you ever give me the chance to meet your dad, I’ll tell him, I’ll promise him, that I would never hurt you, and never leave you, and never let you go. I’d rather hurt myself first.’ Candida’s face was suddenly very solemn in the morning light, so solemn that I felt forced to ask, ‘You do believe me, don’t you?’

‘Yes, I do believe you,’ Candida said. ‘That’s the scary thing.’

Omar Khan Celebrates May Day in Oxford

OMAR WAS QUITE excited about the approach of mythical May Day in Oxford; the night of all night parties, of dancing until dawn, when everyone would crowd to Magdalen Bridge to hear the choir sing in the sunrise, and then leap off into the water in their black tie and ballgowns.