‘Do you often follow people in the park?’

She laughed. ‘Never before and only once since. The second time I saw you. You were in the British Library.’

‘Translating?’

‘Yes. I noted your seat number and I asked the desk clerk if he knew your name. When I had your name I found your address and that is why six months ago you found a drenched distressed creature in the road beyond your door.’

‘You told me you had had your bag stolen.’

‘Yes.’

‘You asked me if I could let you dry off and phone your husband.’

‘Yes.’

‘None of that was real?’

‘I had to speak to you. It was the only thing I could think of. Not very clever. And then I met Jacqueline and I thought I must stop and I thought about Elgin and tried to stop. I lured myself into believing that we could be friends, if I was your friend that would be enough. We made good friends, didn’t we?’

I dwelt on that day when I had found Louise in the rain. She looked like Puck sprung from the mist. Her hair was shining with bright drops of rain, the rain ran down her breasts, their outline clear through her wet muslin dress.

‘It was Emma, Lady Hamilton, who gave me the idea,’ said Louise, stealing my thoughts. ‘She used to wet her dress before she went out. It was very provocative but it worked on Nelson.’

Not Nelson again.

Yes, that day. I saw her from my bedroom window and rushed out. It was an act of kindness on my part but a very delightful one. It was I who had telephoned her the following day. She very kindly invited me to lunch. All that I could follow, what I couldn’t follow was the spring of her motive. I don’t lack self-confidence but I’m not beautiful, that is a word reserved for very few people, people such as Louise herself. I told her this.

‘You can’t see what I can see.’ She stroked my face. ‘You are a pool of clear water where the light plays.’

There was a hammering at the door. We both jumped.

‘It must be Jacqueline,’ said Louise. ‘I thought she’d be back when it got dark.’

‘She’s not a vampire.’

The hammering stopped then a key was inserted carefully into the lock. Had Jacqueline been checking to see if anyone was home? I heard her come in and go into the bedroom. Then she opened the sitting room door. She saw Louise and burst into tears.

‘Jacqueline, why did you steal my stuff?’

‘I hate you.’

I tried to persuade her to sit down and have a drink but as soon as she’d taken the glass she threw it at Louise. It missed and shattered on the wall behind. She leapt across the room and took one of the sharpest largest pieces and made for Louise’s face. I grabbed Jacqueline’s wrist and twisted it back against her arm. She cried out and dropped the glass.