When he turned she was standing at the end of the bed. She was quite naked, her bathrobe on the floor at her feet. The Gunner was turned to stone. She was so lovely it hurt. She just stood there looking at him calmly, waiting for him to make a move, the hair like a dark curtain sweeping down until it gently brushed against the tips of the firm breasts.

He went towards her slowly, reaching out to touch like a blind man. Her perfume filled his nostrils and a kind of hoarse sob welled up in his throat.

He held her tightly in his arms, his head buried against her shoulder and she smoothed his hair and kissed him gently as a mother might a child. ‘It’s all right, Gunner. Everything’s going to be all right.’

Gunner Doyle, the great lover. He was like some kid presented with the real thing for the first time. His hands were shaking so much that she had to unbutton his shirt and trousers for him. But afterwards it was fine, better than he had ever known it before. He melted into her flesh as she pulled him close and carried him away into warm, aching darkness.

Afterwards – a long time afterwards, or so it seemed – the telephone started to ring. ‘I’d better see who it is.’ She slipped from beneath the sheets, and reached for her bathrobe.

The door closed softly behind her and the Gunner got up and started to dress. He was fastening his belt when the door opened again and she stood there staring at him looking white and for the first time since he had known her, frightened.

He took her by the shoulders. ‘What’s up?’

‘It was a man,’ she said in a strained voice. ‘A man on the phone. He said to tell you to get out fast. That the police would be here any time.’

‘Jesus,’ he said. ‘who was it?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said and cracked suddenly. ‘Oh, Gunner, what are we going to do?’

‘You stay put, darlin’, and carry on as normal,’ he said, going to the bed and pulling on the boots she had given him. ‘I’m the only one who has to do anything.’

He yanked the sweater over his head and she grabbed his arm. ‘Give yourself up, Gunner.’

‘First things first, darlin’. I’ve got to get out of here and so far away that the coppers don’t have a hope of connecting me with you and the old girl.’

She looked up into his face for a moment then turned to the dressing-table and opened her handbag. She took out a handful of loose coins and three pound notes.