On her return from one of her business trips there had been a letter from Claud forwarded from the Old Rectory. He asked her to meet him for lunch on a day already past to celebrate the acceptance of his book by a publisher.

Laura had not (being so splendidly distanced) even known that the book was finished. She had presently dialled Ann Kennedy’s number. Ann answered.

‘Yes,’ Ann had said. Claud’s book was to be published; he was getting a good advance. He had been to London to meet with his editor. Happily Mavis had been home—yes, resting—she had gone with him to see the editor to give moral support. He had been nervous, poor boy.

‘How fortunate,’ said Laura, ‘for Claud.’ Was Mavis filling the gap? Was Mavis’ precious virginity at risk? Would she, Laura, mind a Mavis/Claud linkage or Mavis’ virginity kept or lost? Neither eventuality moved her in the slightest.

Ann said she would tell Claud to ring Laura when he came in from the market. Claud was making rather a good thing out of his stall, quite a respectable amount of money. Mavis gave him a hand sometimes.

Laura noted with amusement the change in Ann. Claud, no longer in need of bolstering by his mother, was earning real money.

When later Claud telephoned, Laura asked, ‘How did you get my number?’

‘I braved your mother. That terrible dog tried to bite me.’

‘All you have to do is shout, “Die for Eastbourne”. He isn’t really ferocious. Tell me about your book. I am so pleased. So happy for you. I told you it was good, didn’t I?’

‘You did, you did.’

‘When is publication?’

‘May.’

‘I can’t wait for the reviews.’

‘If I get bad reviews I shall kill myself.’

‘Don’t start that again, start a new book.’

‘I have.’

‘Oh, good. What is this one about?’

‘It’s a sequel to Lydia. Surely, I told you my novel is called Lydia?’

‘No.’

‘Well, it is. Wonderful title, isn’t it? If you create a character as I have with Lydia, you can write a series. My editor is all in favour.’

‘Oh.’

‘I scrapped all that crap about machines and my mother and the girl wearing her Walkman, you knew that?’

‘No.’

‘I’m sure I told you.’

‘Does she, Lydia, still have—’

‘Your legs. Well, yes. I can’t scrap your legs, they are an integral part. And Mavis’ hair, of course.’

‘Susie’s skin?’

‘I’ve let Susie’s skin lapse.’

‘Oh, why?’

‘Well that carry on with—’

‘Drinking her pee?’

‘It’s not really on, is it?’

‘It’s your book.’

‘Oh, Laura, I am working terrifically hard; the book, the new one, is flowing. When I get my advance I shall invest in a word processor.’

‘My, my. Shall you move out of the loft?’ She could not visualise a word processor in the loft, it was far too grand.