‘You have become pompous. Is that what we are? Old “university buddies”?’

Angry horns bleated down in the street. With her hands clutched around the bar, and her shoulders hunched a little forwards against the chill, she straightened her long legs slightly, leaning her slender torso fractionally backwards into space. I felt the sharp edge of a fledgling concern tapping against the inside of my skull. With a steady voice, I answered: ‘I haven’t seen you in the best part of a decade. What would you prefer to be called?’ She was already drawing me away from a proper examination of her motives.

‘Oh, I don’t know. Something with a little feeling. Playmate, darling, co-conspirator . . .’ This last one she delivered in a theatrical, breathy whisper.

‘I think I have company this weekend,’ I said.

‘She’ll understand. Women like to be made to wait. You can’t be overly available.’

Not these women, I thought.

She shivered and tugged the thin material of her jacket tight around her thin body and straightened her legs with little jerks, a childish gesture of distraction that pushed her body further and further out over the edge. I clenched my hands behind my back so that she could not see them. There was a light wind, so high above the street, and it carried the loose strands of her blonde hair up and over her cheekbones.

‘My place isn’t big. I don’t have a spare bed, and—’

She pushed suddenly with her feet; the gesture carried her too far and she fell first backwards, then forwards with a spasmodic tightening of her stomach to the floor. A surge of adrenalin manned my chest, and I ran towards her with an inarticulate cry. She was laughing with the exhilaration of her near disaster, and with triumph at the terror in my face. I had started out across the perfect garden, breaking the patterned surface with my feet. The cut of my suit pushed me into an unnatural feminine jog, and I knew that I must have looked ridiculous. I acknowledged her victory with a sheepish smile, and walked over to where she leant laughing against the rail. Her laughter gave way to a coughing fit, and she bent over almost like an old man, clutching her stomach. Somehow the moment seemed vulnerable rather than disgusting.

‘So, can I stay or what?’ she said when she had regained some measure of control.

‘Fuck it. Why not.’

She was lying, but there would be time to uncover her lie. I could not remember when an obligation had been placed on me that was purely human. I did things because of what I had signed, what was expected, what was right, what was paid. This I would do because of who had asked me. I said yes because I would have done anything for her once, and required nothing in return. There were once many people who would have done anything for her, but from me she would have accepted.