the sink. He put his bag down and crept upstairs, his heart struggling in its cavity as if desperate to break out. Pushing open his bedroom door a few inches he saw Flavia sleeping in his bed. She was naked and one breast was exposed, the nipple small, perfectly round and darkly pigmented.
Downstairs, he switched on the television and banged about in the kitchen making tea. In five minutes or so Flavia appeared, in a dressing gown, hair mussed, sleepy. Her hair was the colour of raven’s wings, with a shimmer of inky blue and bottle green, making her skin seem so pale it was almost a bloodless white, the natural pink of her lips lurid and rose-red beside it. She accepted a mug of tea from him and sat there for a while, not saying much, letting consciousness reclaim her.
‘How long have you been here?’ he said.
‘Since late last night. It’s not exactly homey, is it?’
‘No.’
‘So, how was your day, darling?’
‘Terrible.’
‘I’m going to Vienna in the morning,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a job.’
‘What?’
‘A British Council touring production of Othello.’
‘Are you Desdemona?’
‘Of course.’
‘Sounds nice. Shakespeare in Vienna.’
‘Better than life at home, I can tell you.’
‘He didn’t hit you or anything, did he?’
‘Not quite. He’s just vile. Impossible.’ She frowned, as if the notion had just struck her. ‘I’m not going back.’
‘Good.’
She reached out and took his hand. ‘But I don’t want to sleep with you tonight. Not tonight. I don’t think it would be wise.’
‘Of course.’ Lorimer nodded many times, hoping his disappointment wouldn’t show. ‘I’ll be in the spare room.’
She stood up and moved slowly to where he was sitting and put her arms around his head, folded her arms round his head and pulled his face to her belly. He closed his eyes and drew her warm bed-smell into his lungs, like a sleeping draught.
‘Milo,’ she said, and chuckled. He could hear her laugh reverberate through her body vibrations on his face. She bent her neck and kissed his forehead.
‘Will you call me when you get back from Vienna?’ he said.
‘Maybe. Maybe I’ll stay out there for a while, let Gilbert stew’
‘I think we could be very happy’
She pulled back his head so she could look at him better, her fingers gripping the hair behind his ears. She clicked her teeth together a few times and stared at him deeply.
‘I think… I think you might be right. It was fate that brought us together, wasn’t it?’
‘I’m not quite so sure where I stand on fate these days. I would have tracked you down, one way or another.’
‘But I might not have liked you.’
‘Well, it’s a point, I suppose.’
‘Lucky for you I do, Milo, lucky for you.’ She bent her head and kissed him again, gently, on the lips.
Lorimer unwrapped a new blanket and spread it on the spare bed in the little room upstairs under the roof. He took off his clothes and slid between the mattress and the prickly wool. He heard her in the corridor and for a brief moment fantasized that she might knock on his door – but after a few moments there was the sound of the toilet flushing.
He slept the night through, uninterrupted and completely dreamless. He woke at eight o’clock, parched and hungry, pulled on his trousers and stumbled downstairs where he found her note in her large and acutely slanting hand.
You can come with me to Vienna if you like. Air Austria, Heathrow, terminal 3, 11.45. But I can’t promise you anything. I can’t promise anything will last. You must know that – if you decide to come. F.
What was it with her, he thought, smiling, always these tests, these challenges? But he knew at once what he would do: this seemed far and away the best deal life had ever offered him and he accepted it unreflectingly and instantly Unequivocally He would go to Vienna and be with Flavia Malinverno – this would make him happy
As he dressed he thought: I will be with her but she will not commit, she would not promise how long it would last. Well, neither could he. Neither could anyone, really. How long will anything last? How many miles can a pony gallop, as his grandmother would say. This shaky formula for his future happiness was as solid as anything else in this world, after all. There was no arguing with that.
100. Integumentary Systems. The arming of a man began at the feet and as far as possible each piece subsequently put on