‘Let me describe it to you,’ I said. ‘It resembles an ice-skater’s tunic, except that it has wide padded shoulders, lacing down the sides, is made of white leather, and appears to offer more freedom of movement and exposure of the limbs than the ordinary Olympic ice-skater would –’

‘Oh, that. That’s my space suit, what do you think it is?’

I didn’t answer. Instead I tossed the garment on to the bed where it fell, suggestively, in the shape of Sharon. I paced the bedroom floor, in the manner I knew she didn’t like, wearing out the carpet. Then I asked, ‘Have you had it long?’

She hesitated fractionally, ‘About a week.’

It was as I thought: Fitz had bought it for her after the terrible scene at his place, to make it up to her, to fly her to the stars. But I wanted to hear her say it. ‘Would it be altogether too literal-minded of me to ask you what you want it for?’ I asked her.

Sharon’s lips were still a touch swollen, but she could move them all right. ‘Would it be altogether too simple minded of me to say to wear?’ she let them answer.

‘To wear for what, Sharon?’

‘To wear for going out in, Barney.’

‘Sharon, correct me if I’m wrong, but this doesn’t look to me like the sort of thing that even you with your much remarked on flair for the outlandish would go to Sainsbury’s or your accountants or the Calcutta Book Fair in. Isn’t a space suit specifically designed for space travel? I am still your husband – I think you ought to tell me if you’re planning a long trip.’

Sharon sighed at the mirror and wiped her hands on a tissue. I remember being struck by the action; it had a decisive air about it. ‘It’s for parties, Barney,’ she said.

I didn’t expect to hear any mention of parties in this house for some time, and I wouldn’t have dreamed of using the word myself, but she started it. ‘I wouldn’t have thought that you and I will be going to many more of those,’ I said.

‘We won’t. It’s for going to parties with Fitz in.’

She was brutal. And she upset me. Even though I was carrying around a postcard from Gertrude Bugler, she upset me. ‘Well I hope you’ll be a sensation in it,’ I said.

‘I’m sure I will be. I was the last time.’

That was a dare. And I accepted it. ‘The last time?’

‘Mmm,’ she said. ‘The last time.’