Camilla slid into his arms with a sense of belonging and he held her with firm, light hands. They danced without speaking. In the taxi he put his arm around her, and she leaned back against him with her eyes closed. When they reached the door of her flat he placed the key in the lock with unhesitating precision and led her towards the bedroom.

‘I don’t know, Anthony,’ she whispered. ‘I haven’t thought of this—’

‘We’ve both thought of this for as long as I can remember,’ he said.

He kissed her slowly, waiting for her lips to part so that he could taste her. She sighed and lay back on the bed as he slowly took off her clothes. He was murmuring in her ear, laughing a little as he slid the long boots from her legs and ran his hands up her thighs, listening to the soft sounds she was making. When he drew back from her to unfasten his belt and his trousers she sat up and gently pushed him away.

‘There’s something I have to tell you,’ she said.

‘You don’t have to tell me anything. I want you, Camilla, and you know this is the right moment for us.’ He pulled her back to him with a groan of longing. ‘You know we both want this. We don’t need to play games.’

‘No. Wait, Anthony.’

He looked at her, puzzled and sensing a shift between them, unable to understand the hidden thing she was trying to express. Then he placed his hands beneath her and drew her towards him, kissing her again and again, feeling her resistance as he pressed harder in his urgent desire for her, halting when she gave a little cry of pain.

‘What is it?’ he asked, leaning away from her, stroking her face, kissing her eyelids. ‘Am I hurting you?’

She shook her head, pulling him down with abandon, moving beneath him until she was swept away into a soaring, jubilant intensity. When they lay back afterwards he kissed her again, caressing the moist skin of her breasts, then reaching down to touch the secret part of her that he had discovered.

‘Camilla? Have I hurt you?’ He raised himself up on to his elbow, looking at his fingers, and then he searched her expression, disbelieving. ‘Oh God, Camilla, was this—?’

‘I was trying to tell you, but I didn’t know how to say it. I thought you might laugh at me. All those awful jokes about being a virgin . . .’

‘Oh God, come here. Come close to me and let me kiss you very, very slowly and tell you how beautiful you are.’