‘Don’t worry. My lips are sealed.’ I brushed my fingers across my lips, zipping together our secret. I took James’s hand, squeezed it and let it come to rest on my thigh.

‘Shall we have a nightcap somewhere? The Savoy is round the corner and I’m not in a hurry.’

He moved his hand higher, felt me clench. Tawdriness clung to the end of our affair. If he expected a reward, payback for his consideration, he didn’t push.

‘A nightcap would be lovely. But a quick one. You know I don’t like the tube late at night.’

He seemed pleased that I didn’t rush off. Perhaps I misjudged his intentions or perhaps he wanted to protract the romance. Outside, in a heavy downpour, James hailed a taxi and paid five pounds for a hundred-meter ride. Mitch and I would have got soaked. I would have taken off my high heels, splashed and slopped through the puddles, shrieked in agony. Love did crazy things. Instead, James and I sat side by side in the taxi, dry and silent.

It was the last time James and I went anywhere together. Our time was up. The next night his world would fall apart.

32

Rebecca

I woke early on Saturday. It was only seven but I was on a mission. In one week’s time I would be in Australia.

At last I could leave behind the apathy which had clung to me since Mitch’s disappearance. I started to think of it rather as Mitch’s departure. Perhaps he had deliberately left, bizarre circumstances forcing him away. He had packed all his possessions and fled. The more time that passed, the more I excused myself from blame.

We spend our entire lives waiting for something to happen. We plan for that special moment, that climax linked to love or achievement. We forget that other people have goals too and I never took into account my inclusion into someone else’s plans.

I never asked Oliver about his hobbies. I was never really interested. I learned on that particular Saturday night that he was into photography.

He owned an Apple QuickTake, the latest model on the market compatible with his Apple Macintosh computer. He’d already stored images to his computer while I was thrilled with the idea of an instant-fix Polaroid snap.

I found this out when we went to dinner with his friends, Bob and Emily. Oliver didn’t know this was to be the last time I saw him before I left for Australia. I didn’t think it would do any harm when he phoned. It might help divert attention from my affair with James and it felt like the last piece of my leaving jigsaw.

Emily and Bob lived in a small flat in Finchley. Bob was a member of the rugby team and I’d met him a few times at the club.