‘If this book is not well received, if it fails, well, to you it may sound silly, but the truth is I shall kill myself.’

‘Feel like killing yourself.’

‘No, I shall actually do it.’

Laura said: ‘Oh hell.’ Setting out to be amused, she had become interested, more interested than was safe. Claud was not like Clug, he would not be going back to Romania next week.

Claud was speaking. ‘It’s very difficult to explain, Laura darling’ (he had not called her darling before) ‘but it’s intense. The people in this book are real. The girl is as real as you, she has your legs for a start, your lovely legs, I love her—no, I can’t explain—’

‘I think,’ Laura said, ‘that I had better not read this.’ She took the typescript and held it out to him. ‘Anyway, I should not read it until it is finished.’

‘Okay.’ He took the manuscript and laid it back in its place on the table. ‘All right,’ he said, ‘I understand. But I meant what I said. I—’

‘Yes,’ said Laura. Then, ‘Why don’t we resume what we were at when I bit you?’

‘Oh, Laura—’

‘Only this time make love to me not to Amy.’

‘She’s not called Amy any more.’

‘Well, just concentrate on fucking me. I don’t like acting proxy. I’m no good at it.’

‘All right, Laura, I shall enjoy that.’ Claud got back into bed. ‘And later, when it’s day, we could have breakfast in the wine bar,’ he said.

‘Stop talking,’ she said.

‘Can we talk now?’ Claud asked presently.

‘What about?’ Laura stared at the dark oblong of the uncurtained window. ‘Your book?’

‘No, you. I want to know all about you.’

Laura said nothing.

‘Tell me what you did when you had this loft. Did you bring lovers here?’

‘I told you. I came here to be private. Ann’s husband was alive in those days. A nice man, sensitive. He understood my need to be alone. I bet Ann misses him.’

‘I don’t want to talk about Ann. Tell me about your lovers, I won’t be jealous.’ But Claud felt a rush of jealousy. Had she in this bed done to others what she—‘Please tell me, I need to know.’

‘You need to know!’ Laura leaned back, her head on her arms.

‘When people fall in love they tell each other everything,’ said Claud.

Laura laughed. ‘The more fools they.’

‘Don’t mock. Who did you bring up here? I think I am a bit jealous. Not Brian?’ (Susie’s Brian, he felt quite hot at the idea.)

‘Not Brian,’ Laura answered gravely.

‘Sorry. I am jealous. I admit it.’

‘A boring unprofitable emotion.’

‘Who did you bring up here?’ He leaned over, his mouth against hers, kissing urgent, questioning kisses.