Terence, unbeknown to Nicky, went to York to talk to Juliet, to break off his engagement. He swallowed nervously on the train. Their work had mostly kept them apart the way it so often did with actors; he had told her nothing on the telephone. He knew how very badly his behaviour would appear to anybody, but he had never been in love, had had no conception until now of the meaning of the word.

Juliet, still pale, still often bleeding from the abortion although it was now over four months ago, wept when she saw him. Where were you? she cried, told him she could not bear him to touch her, then clung to him with such ferocity that all night, lying decorously beside her in the one bed in her digs, he could not say it, could not bear to hurt her more. I want us to get married now, wept Juliet, and later, I don’t ever want to see you again. Terence was not cruel, only young and cowardly: he did not know how to deal with the situation he found himself in.

So, confused, he told Harry – good old Harry Donaldson, their queer friend from the class of ’59. Terence asked Harry if he had time for a drink; they sat in a quiet pub far from the theatre and Terence told Harry almost everything: the Number Two dressing room, the last train to Richmond, the rubbishy film in Scotland, Nicky’s pregnancy, the film Heartbreak that would make Nicky a star.

He did not talk about Nicky’s mother.

Harry knew about Heartbreak, had had a day’s filming on it before he came to York, had already witnessed how extraordinary Nicky’s performance was. On and on the monologue went in a low voice, Terence staring at his cigarette but just occasionally looking up at Harry with his blue eyes glowing. Not for the first time in his life and certainly not for the last, Harry wished people would keep their life stories to themselves, not involve him so that he had to share their experiences, think about them, even give advice. He was still coming to terms with being a homosexual, not knowing how to proceed, cruising places in York he’d been told were meeting places where it was probably unsafe, not to mention illegal, to do so; he was very unhappy and confused. He wondered how people like Terence could possibly think he had answers.

‘Well, you’ll have to tell Juliet,’ said Harry.

Just at that moment Juliet came towards them in the bar: dissatisfied, pale.