The clang of the gate at the top of the wrought iron stairs outside made them both start. Loud footsteps followed – Shona’s, Esther guessed, from the familiar clack of heavy heels on metal. ‘Quick,’ she whispered, leaping to her feet and beckoning Lucas to come with her, an impulse based purely on the impossible notion of having to switch to awkward introductions and small talk.

By the time the front door thudded shut, Esther and Lucas had parked themselves on Esther’s narrow bed – there being nowhere else to sit – and were propped side by side against the pillows and headboard like an old married couple. Along the passageway came the sound of the toilet flush, running taps, a loud thump, and voluble cursing, before the slam of another door.

‘Now, where were we?’ Lucas picked up Esther’s hand and turned it over, examining the palm.

‘Nowhere,’ Esther said faintly.

Lucas traced the tip of his index finger along all the fortune-teller lines, so lightly that it tickled. ‘The map of you,’ he said softly. ‘And I think it shows many things, including a great capacity for love.’

Esther had been half holding her breath, when he used the hand to pull her nearer, closing his eyes in preparation to kiss. She saw his eyelids flutter, the intensity of the intent, before she closed her own.

‘Ditch him,’ Lucas said later, when the kissing was done with and they were saying goodbye on the pavement, Esther having led the tiptoeing navigation through the flat and up the stairwell. ‘Not necessarily to be with me.’ He spoke gravely, keeping his distance now, standing so far away that Esther found it almost upsetting. Their clothes had remained in place, but just five minutes before they had been entwined, tasting each other, holding each other, Lucas displaying a tenderness that had felt at once tentative and alluringly assured.

‘But because, in my twenty-seven years of experience,’ he went on grimly, ‘learnt in part, I am sorry to say, at my dear father’s knee – married men are often happy to take lovers. It is the enthusiasm for owning up to the deceit which they are less good at, not to mention keeping promises to leave their wives. Walk away from Stephen, Esther.’ There was pleading in his tone now. ‘Not for anyone else, but for you. We each have a duty to guard our own backs in this world. Trust me, no one else can do it so well; not even a smitten mug who would like the chance to make you fall for him instead.’

MANY HAPPY RETURNS

3

‘Just checking whether Dylan crashed at yours last night?’