Molly shook herself slightly, remembered why she’d come. The newspaper lay forgotten on the grass.

‘Do you think Anthony should talk to him?’

‘Certainly not! Men don’t talk about those things and anyway he’s jealous of Terence, he’d do no good at all.’

Molly thought for a moment. ‘Do you think I should do anything?’

‘Like what?’

‘Tell someone that there must be some mistake, go to the police perhaps?’

‘Perhaps he got better suddenly. Perhaps that’s what impotence does. Perhaps he wanted to – try himself out again. Rape’s about power not sex anyway, that’s what they say, perhaps he just suddenly wanted to try himself out.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Molly doubtfully.

Pauline said, ‘If it comes to court maybe you could be called as a witness. Maybe you’d better offer, get in touch with his lawyers, if you really think it’s any of your business. You could stand up in the witness box and tell your story – you’d be such a star! I mean just think of the headlines in the Sun: ACTRESS AND IMPOTENT FILM STAR IN COURTROOM DRAMA.’

And then suddenly Pauline began to laugh. She laughed and laughed in the sunshine. Molly looked bemused and Pauline looked up at her, shook her head apologetically, searched for a handkerchief in her pocket, tears in her eyes. And Molly thought: this is how she used to be, she and Frances laughing as if they couldn’t stop, this is how she was when she was young, she was so happy then. Then she thought again of the grey afternoon and the children and the mothers.

Finally Pauline, still laughing, managed to say something.

‘Sorry, sorry, it’s just – well think of it, poor old Terence, he’s caught in a cleft stick,’ and Pauline began to cough, trying to talk but laughing at the same time, ‘he’s damned if he did it of course. But how can someone whose whole career has been built on sexual charisma admit in public that he’s...’ finally she got the word out ‘...impotent! Whether you wanted to be a witness for him or not – he just wouldn’t do it – how could he!’

Just then the door into the garden slammed and her second daughter, Viola, ran down the grass towards them.

‘Hello Auntie Moll,’ she called in surprise, smiling and running, teasing Molly, knowing she didn’t like to be called Auntie, ‘it’s ages and ages since you’ve been,’ and she kissed her, not the way of the actresses on both cheeks, but with a warm hug. ‘Hello Mum, anything to eat before I go out? I’ve only got an hour, look Mum I’ve got you a new very red lipstick like everyone’s wearing now, you should try it.’

‘Darling that’s really not my colour,’ protested Pauline, pulling herself together at last.