Her noises were honest and forthright. I was sitting facing her. We were rocking. I must have been holding my breath. “Breathe, breathe,” she ordered. I did what she said. She went on. “Relax and breathe from your stomach, that way you’ll hold out longer.”

It worked, of course. When I’d relaxed, she said, “Now, continue.”

Patricia howled, “Adore me, adore me, you little shit!”; she dug her fingers into me, scratched and kicked me, and, when she came, thrust her tongue into my mouth until I almost gagged.

“I needed that,” she said at last. She was lying on the bed, legs apart, almost steaming. “Dear boy, do fetch me a glass of water.”

I took it to her.

“Thanks, Oddjob. A job well done, eh?”

I sat on the end of the bed and said, “Now you’ll be able to give an orgasm workshop.”

“You know,” she said, “a lot of the women here think you’re a haughty little kid. I don’t mind that. I like it. I could humble you, you know.”

“Thank you, Patricia,” I said. “I think you just have. I’d better go now.”

“One more thing,” she said.

Patricia opened her legs and, from the end of the bed, had me look at her masturbate busily. At times her entire hand seemed to disappear into her body, as if she were about to turn herself inside out.

“Bet you haven’t seen that before,” she murmured.

“No,” I said sourly. “One lives and learns.”

She was about to fall asleep. She waved me away, but not before saying, “You come back here tonight. Bring your things. Everything will be better if you come and live here.”

“Why would that be?”

“This is the best room in the village. See you tonight!”

I scurried away across the square. Alicia called after me, caught me up, and put her arm through mine.

“You’re still here?”

“But why not?”

“Alicia, I’m on my way to the beach.”

“Are you okay? Can’t I come with you?”

I didn’t like to make her run behind me, but I needed to wash myself. I knew she was still there because she was shouting out poems—not her own—as we went, to remind me of the good things.

I stripped off and ran into the sea. I swam and jogged on the beach until I was exhausted. I lay down next to her with the sun on me. Soon, I’d dozed off. When I opened my eyes, she was sitting there wearing just a cigarette, her arms hugging her knees. Unlike the other women at the Center, she never removed her clothes but always wore a long-sleeved top and ankle-length skirt.

“What is it?”

She said, “You slept with her.” Her hands shook as she drew on her cigarette. “Everyone in this hemisphere will have heard.”

“But you didn’t cover your ears.”

“I listened to your music. Every note.”

“What will you do with what you heard? Write about itor is it too human for you?”