But as they kissed their way through to her bedroom, and Chris’s hands began to clutch more urgently at her pyjamas, the old disconnect started to set in. Fifteen minutes ago, they had been sitting on the sofa watching a horror movie. Now Chris was palming her breasts. Her mind caught on the weirdness of this and the tingling in her belly vanished. She tried for a few moments to get it back, though she knew very well it was gone for good. Chris started to unbutton her pyjama top. He held it closed until all the buttons were undone, then opened it with a movement that reminded Leah, absurdly, of someone spreading a newspaper. Holding the top open, he stared at her body with what she presumed was meant to be lust-filled awe. The gap between what she felt and what Chris was evidently experiencing widened further. But there was a protocol stronger than her apathy at work. Leah shrugged off her pyjama top then reached for the hem of Chris’s T-shirt. Chris eagerly took the hint, tugging the T-shirt off over his head and flinging it to the floor.

‘Lie down,’ he commanded her.

Leah lay down on her back.

‘No, like this – on your side.’ Chris rolled her over so that she was facing away from him. ‘I’m going to kiss your back, all over,’ he announced, as if proposing a special treat.

‘Mmmm,’ said Leah, and Chris began to kiss her back, with feeling. Leah watched the wall, wondering why they were doing this. She was bored and a little bit cold. It was taking a long time. She moaned a bit, so as not to seem ungrateful.

And then she was back facing Chris, and he was kissing her mouth, her breasts, her belly, caressing her nipples, moving his hand down between her legs, back up to his mouth to moisten his fingers, down between her legs again, rubbing and stroking and dipping and poking, and all the while she heard herself, with a chill disappointment, providing the familiar backing track of groans and sighs, mood music for Chris’s mounting excitement. She watched him fumble with the condom, his desire too quick for his fingers. It was strange, she thought, as he entered her, seeing someone so clearly in the grip of something, when she herself felt so little. As he approached his orgasm his lips puckered and stiffened and the tip of his tongue stuck out. His eyes were squeezed shut, like a little child playing peek-a-boo.