‘Sure you don’t want to join me for a glass of champers and whatever might come next?’ he said, jumping up off the bed and grabbing the bottle. ‘I mean, come on, Bess, it’s just sex! It’s nothing!’ he laughed, trying and failing in one final attempt to convince her.

‘It’s never just sex.’ She picked up her handbag and put the cup back on the tray. ‘Sex is powerful and damaging and, yes, exciting and wonderful when it’s with the right person, but it’s not nothing. Even if it’s casual, it’s not nothing. It can make or break relationships.’ And it can make and break reputations. It can make and break lives . . . ‘I forgot that for a minute when I failed to turn left.’

‘But no harm done, eh? We’ll keep this between ourselves?’ He looked nervous.

She nodded, remembering when she was sixteen and intoxicated by the physical act of sex performed in an alleyway. The smell of Lawrence, his less than fragrant breath and the whiff of sweat clinging to his skin. We should keep this between ourselves. Let’s not tell anyone . . . The shame of duplicity was as familiar now as it had been when she was a teenager.

‘No harm done,’ she whispered, as she made her way out of the room. Closing the door behind her, she ran the length of the corridor and jabbed the call button for the lift, almost frantic in her desire to get out of the building and back home.

‘Come on! Come on!’ She pressed the button again and again with urgency. ‘I just want to get home!’ She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the quake of unease that filled her gut. Finally the lift arrived and carried her to the ground floor, where she looked down, unable to meet her own gaze in the mirrored walls. As the doors opened, she didn’t stop to admire the white marble or the ornate blooms, but instead ran as fast as she could and with trembling fingers found her car keys in the bottom of her bag before letting herself into her rusting little haven. It was a relief to be alone and her sobs came in great gulps that left her breathless.

‘What were you thinking, you stupid, stupid cow? You nearly blew it all – you nearly blew your whole fucking life!’ She hit the steering wheel with the heel of her hand and inadvertently beeped the horn. A couple strolling in front of the car jumped and the man put his arm around the woman, fixing Bess with an angry stare in a move that was so protective, so caring, it made her cry even harder.

‘I’m coming home, Mario! I’m coming home, my darling!’ she managed through her tears.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

August 20th 1984