‘Of course,’ said Monica uncertainly. ‘I think it’s lovely that you don’t just sleep around like I do.’

‘Do you?’ Monica was obviously what her father would describe as a ‘goer’ but she didn’t appear to lack the normal morals, either.

Monica shrugged. ‘Well, not really, but I don’t hold back, if you know what I mean. I’m always very careful, always use a condom, make sure I like the guy a bit, and it’s not only that I want to get into his pants.’ She paused. ‘But your way is better, I’m sure.’

‘It wasn’t a deliberate policy.’

Monica was thoughtful. ‘Or maybe you could do a lot worse than sleep with a friend, sort of get it over with.’

Laura shook her head. ‘I’m not being precious about it, but being a virgin doesn’t really interfere with my life. Besides, my best friend is gay.’

‘Oh, Grant? Well, maybe you’ll meet some other nice man who’d be nice and safe to do it with.’

‘Maybe,’ said Laura. But however weird still being a virgin made her feel she didn’t think she’d want to deal with the matter so pragmatically. It had just sort of happened that way and she’d never felt the need to get rid of it just for the sake of it, like a outmoded piece of furniture.

Laura walked most of the three miles to the little village they were heading for, but she was looking forward to being able to coast all the way back down to Ballyfitzpatrick. It had been a long time since she’d taken so much exercise but in spite of being aware of her unfit state she was enjoying the sensation of all her muscles working and felt exhilarated and energised.

‘You must admit, the views are absolutely stunning!’ said Monica, who was used to cycling and, unlike Laura, panting only slightly.

‘Oh yes, it’s amazing.’

They were standing on a cliff, gazing out to sea, regathering their energy before going to hunt out Monica’s Lust Object. The sun sparkled like diamonds on the little waves. The sky was pale blue and seemed to glint with potential frost. The grass on the clifftop was close-cropped, green still, although it was winter. Behind them was a row of whitewashed cottages. When Monica had stopped sweating, the plan was that they were going to knock on the door of her potential lover. Laura was planning to stay and enjoy the view but she hadn’t told Monica that yet. She wasn’t sure how’d she’d take it.

‘Actually,’ said Laura. ‘I might lie down.’