“I’m only here because of you,” I said. “I wangled this job spe­cially. I shouldn’t be in London at all really.” My hand worked its way inside her dress; she sighed and relaxed in my arms. “I couldn’t manage without seeing you again. I thought of you all the way, every minute of the journey—”

She jerked herself away from me. “There’s somebody coming,” she said. “Give me a cigarette, darling. And fill that kettle.”

It was Jacqueline. She looked at us, with a rather prurient smile. She was somehow welcoming us into a circle, a secret and tight and cosy circle.

“I only wanted some ice,” she said. “And some more whisky.”

“We’re having coffee,” Jean said.

“Of course you are, dear. Joe must have a clear head to­morrow.” She took out the ice cube tray.

“I’ll do that,” I said. I ran hot water over the tray and tipped the cubes out into the bowl which she’d brought in.

“You’re nice,” she said. “I think you’ll be very good for Jean. She needs someone solid.” She picked up the bowl. “Enjoy your coffee, children.”

When she’d gone we both burst out laughing.

“She talks as if I were a kind of medicine,” I said. “Shall I really be good for you, darling?”

“She thinks affairs are good for everyone.” Jean took down a tin of Nescafé.

“I think they’d be very good for you. Just one, that is.”

“A real one?” she said. “A real actressy one with presents of mink and dinner at Prunier’s?”

“I wouldn’t get in the way of your career,” I said. “I’d under­stand, like in the French films. Tell me what you’d like for a present.” I put her hand on my leg for a second. “A falling in love present,” I said.

She took her hand away from me. “There’ll be someone else in at any moment,” she said. She bit her lip. “You choose it,” she said.

I put my arm round her. “It’ll be the finest present you ever had.”

We stood there silently, holding each other very lightly. The smell of garlic and new paint seemed to grow stronger; but I didn’t mind, it was part and parcel of no-man’s-land, the terri­tory where I was free.

The kettle boiled and she made the coffee; we drank it and returned to the studio hand in hand. No one commented or even bothered to look at us; the tape recorder had been switched off and so had all the lights except one table lamp. Jackie, went over to the hi-fi and put on a record; I recognized Pearl Bailey’s voice.