Your eyes were the same, dark and dangerous but something else. Perhaps a hint of sadness had seeped through their windows. Time stood still as we took each other in. We moved to one side and I watched a small pretty lady tap your arm and say she’d be back in a moment. She needed the loo. Arthur was nowhere to be seen.

‘Now isn’t a good time to talk. Take my number. Call me. We need to meet.’ The desperation in your voice was balm to my thumping heart. You scribbled your number on the back of a ticket and I shoved it into my pocket. The breaking of the enigma code was within my grasp.

After what seemed like an eternity, I watched you walk out with your companion, into the darkness and out of view. I thought of Captain Oates. ‘I am going outside and may be some time.’ I smiled, deep in my soul, as I knew you were coming back. It had been a long time but my future was about to begin again.

Arthur suddenly reappeared, looking very pale. He had fallen silent and I was worried that he had seen Mitch and me talking. Perhaps he had put two and two together. But he didn’t ask.

‘You’re looking better,’ he said. ‘The colour is back in your cheeks.’

I thought he was sulking because he didn’t take my hand or smother me with wet kisses. Rather he wandered along, subdued, beside me. It was hard to contain my euphoria which I desperately needed to share with someone. I leant across and planted a kiss on Arthur’s cheek, and said, ‘Thank you.’

51

Arthur

Victory was nigh and control well within my grasp. Rebecca was playing along to my tune, a slow and subtle melody of practised skill. Late February offered a chance of earlier than anticipated success.

My new routine involved Rebecca’s name scribbled on every diary page. Mondays we talked on the phone after she got home from work, tired and exhausted. I suppose I didn’t need to verify this by my increasingly sporadic late-night visits to her flat but the plan was to continue the vigilance until we were living together. Cautious to the end was my motto.

On a Wednesday she would cook me dinner at her flat and I would leave around eleven. We shared work stories mainly. I avoided the temptation of inveigling past histories from my girlfriend knowing that in time all would be revealed. Friday or Saturday night teased me with possibilities of the jackpot. I had waited patiently for the invitation. I was prepared to wait a lot longer but an unexpected tearful episode lent a helping hand.