‘Lend me some money,’ Pip repeated.

‘Money?’ said Django. ‘What for? Are you in trouble?’

‘God, no,’ said Pip, ‘I want to go to France to visit my sister.’

‘You want to go to France to visit your sister,’ Django repeated attempting, at this ungodly hour, to recall which niece was not in England and why.

‘Yes,’ said Pip, ‘Cat.’

‘Well, why didn’t you say?’ Django exclaimed. ‘Of course you can have some money – if I have some.’

‘You have lots,’ Pip prompted, ‘somewhere.’

‘Of course I do,’ Django said, as if thanking his niece for reminding him, ‘I’ll send some down.’

Pip phoned Fen immediately. ‘I have some money,’ she said.

‘That’s nice,’ said Fen blearily. ‘Fuck, it’s twenty to six.’

‘I have some money,’ Pip repeated, ‘so let’s go to France this weekend.’

‘Can’t afford it,’ said Fen, pulling the duvet up to her chin and keeping her eyes closed.

‘Bollocks!’ remonstrated Pip. ‘One of your boyfriends is loaded.’

‘But the other one is broke,’ Fen said softly.

‘Yes, but which one have you chosen? Who is it to be?’

‘I still don’t know,’ Fen wailed.

‘Yes, yes. But will you come to France?’

‘Sure,’ said Fen.

Luca lay in bed with an inordinately large grin on his face, his eyes wide open and sparkling, fixated with a particularly uninspiring run of cornice.

‘Come on come on come on!’ he chanted. Didier awoke.

‘Fuck it, man,’ Didier remonstrated, ‘it’s 6.30!’

‘I want to start!’ Luca declared. ‘I want to get going.’

‘Go to sleep,’ Didier mumbled, pulling a pillow over his head.

‘I can’t!’ Luca declared. ‘I haven’t slept a wink.’

‘Not amphetamines again,’ Didier exclaimed, hurling the pillow away and fixing an accusing stare on his room-mate.

‘Don’t be fucking stupid,’ Luca said, quite offended, ‘I’m as clean as they come. I want to win another Stage, goddamn it. Those feelings of euphoria, of adulation, of strength – they’re far more addictive, and much more effective too. I’m raring to go.’

‘Well,’ Didier reasoned, ‘you’re not going to win a Stage on no sleep, for fuck’s sake.’ He turned his back on Luca, mumbled, ‘Sweet dreams’ and then went off to have some of his own – mainly about glory in the mountains and winning a Stage himself.

Cat moaned when Ben woke her, not least because the awakening was rude in the extreme. She cupped her hands around Ben’s head and lifted his face from her pussy.

‘I don’t want to wake up,’ she lamented. Ben crawled up her body and she kissed him, tasting her own salty-sweetness on his mouth. ‘I’m dreading today,’ she confided. ‘How on earth am I going to manage the salle de pressé?’

Ben lay on his back and looked at her sideways. ‘Are you embarrassed?’

‘Embarrassed?’ Cat exclaimed, propping herself up on her side. ‘I’ve never been so humiliated in all my life.’

‘Yes, but are you embarrassed?’ Ben pressed. Cat frowned. ‘About whatever it is that’s going on here – between us.’ Ben was regarding her steadily.