‘Lunch?’ I said.

She shook her head. ‘Not for me, but I’ll watch you.’

It was lunchtime, and things were quiet outside as we moved towards the car. Suddenly there were hurried sounds behind us, and I heard a whooshing noise and felt one side of my head tear itself loose from the middle. I crumpled, heard the sound again and my shoulder caught on fire. I went down further but managed to grab a pair of legs and pull. I looked up and saw a big guy in blue overalls pulling Selina towards a car. She screamed once and he hit her, and she was quiet. Then a knee came up into my face and I slammed down hard on to the footpath.

It all took about fifteen seconds: I was going to lunch with a beautiful girl and then I had a bleeding face, dented shoulder and no girl. And I’d be missing lunch. I brushed aside the few people who tried to help me and staggered up to Forbes Street to hail a cab. My ear and nose were bleeding and my clothes were dirty, but the Sydney cabbie is a brave soul. I gave the driver Groom’s address, and mopped at the blood. My entry at the agency sent people fluttering and bells ringing: Athol came out quickly and hustled me off to wet towels and a large Scotch. I told him what had happened while I cleaned up.

‘Did he hit her hard?’

‘I don’t think so. Why?’

‘That face is just pure gold. I don’t like to think of it being knocked about. What should we do now?’

I pulled a bit of loose skin off the ear and started the blood flowing again. ‘Call the cops’, I said.

He shook his head. ‘I’d rather not. You’ve got no idea what people are like in this racket. Any police trouble involving Selina and her career could be finished just like that.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘The face has to be a pure image, untainted, see?’