Helen had summoned me to the five o'clock meeting with her menopausal note and quite clearly she, along with Gareth and Neil, were waiting to vote me out of the house for the wholly justified reason of smoking illegal substances on the premises. They'll probably assume it's cannabis and I could conceivably bring an arthritic knee to the table, but the danger was not losing my room but rather the tiresome chimera of my reputation, for the truth is that between them Helen and Gareth know every person in this town.

I had nothing to gain from attending my five o'clock execution and while knowing I had to do something, I was unable to summon more than a mild irritation but along with that came a curious itch of sexual desire for Helen. I also knew that while she was the prime mover in this plot, she was also it's weakest link. Helen? I would have to be vague, difficult, unswervingly arrogant. I'd have no masculine or even physical presence. I would be the mother she lost. I'd completely avoid the subject. I'd be absolutely devastating. Helen?

I let myself into her room. I sat on her floor.

Long pause.

(She huffed and puffed)

Long pause.

Can you hear...? Someone's playing Chopin.

(Huffed and puffed)

At last, no, she couldn't hear any music.

I went to the window.

I don't know if I've ever done anyone any good...

Silence

Is there ever a time to...explain

I knelt beside her, took her arm. And swifter than even I expected, she tremoured, retreating into her body and so, with a languorous, almost abusive confidence, I stroked her arm, then her wrist. I kissed her hand and at this, the formal and perhaps distancing gesture, she exhaled, rendering her desire and inviting mine. I kissed her neck, licked her wrist, her lips and then, knowing the momentum was mine, broke it.

Standing up slowly,

I mouthed the word 'yes'.

Left the room.

Locked in my room, I watched from the window as everyone left the house at the normal time. The meeting had been cancelled. Knowing I won't know til tomorrow the full meaning of any of this, I took a bottle of brandy round to George and we sat in silence around the Rowlandson, studying the flayed lips of desperate men and one, abundant woman, generalising a desire that had not quite departed.