“Jim, you’ll catch something…” Dick frowned at me, turning towards the door. He held Fortunata by the waist, but his interest in the escapade had cooled. His eyes had retreated behind his handsome face, and he seemed to have aged since setting out from the hotel. The cheap cine-camera threatened him in a way he had never known at the BBC Television Centre, with its soft and accommodating lenses. I was surprised to find him so obviously out of his element and wondered why he had urged me into the hands of these two prostitutes. Perhaps he hoped to see me humiliated in some small way that would do no damage to our friendship but would leave him in the dominant position.

Behind us, the stapling machine stamped through the faces of the film stars. Undisturbed by our presence, the women hunched over their table, now and then snapping at the child. An old man in a vest wandered into the apartment, tried to remember something, and faded into the corridor.

“Jim, we need another room, we can’t all…”

“Yes…” Fortunata brightened up, drawing Dick towards the bed. “It’s nice … all together.”

Pointing to the women in the sweat shop, I said to Carmen: “Ask the women if we can use their room—just for an hour.”

“They must work, it’s very busy.”

“I’ll give them ten dollars. They deserve a rest. Tell them to go to the movies.”

“Sure. I tell them.”

Carmen spoke to the women, who together peered at me, baffled by this show of modesty. They downed tools, stowed the money in a shared handbag, and moved into the corridor. As Carmen closed the door I saw them leaning against the dingy wall outside the apartment, lighting their cigarettes as they waited for us to finish.

Dick had pushed a tray of film badges onto the floor and sat back on the sofa cushions with Fortunata, who had slipped the shoulder straps of her dress. With a thin smile he pretended to admire the weight and curvature of her heavy white breasts, like a greengrocer assessing a new variety of albino melon. When Fortunata flicked at her extruding nipples with little gasps I shut the bedroom door.

Carmen stepped out of her high-heeled shoes and hung her dress on the wardrobe, brushing the silk with housewifely concern. Using her free hand, she reached out and expertly released my belt buckle.

“Okay. It’s very nice.”