‘Christ! It’s iniquitous!’ Suddenly he was on his feet. ‘I get paid a paltry few hundred dollars’ advance for my last book of poetry and you -’ he spluttered with indignation, – ‘you, get that!’ He threw the letter down.

She stared at him, shocked. ‘Jon – ’

‘Well, Kate. Be realistic. You write bloody well, but it’s hardly literature!’

‘Whereas your books are?’

‘I don’t think anyone would dispute that.’

‘No. I’m sure they wouldn’t.’ She took a deep breath.

‘Oh, hey, come on.’ Suddenly he realised how much he had hurt her. Silently he cursed his flash-point temper. He put his arm round her shoulders. ‘Look, you know me. All mouth. I didn’t mean it. You are bloody good. You do enough research! Take no notice. I was just miffed. No, let’s face it, jealous.’ He gave her a hug. ‘I might even go so far as to swallow my pride and borrow some of that money off you.’

It was the first time she had heard even a hint of his financial problems.

He managed it by making her feel guilty. She saw that later. It was a subtle manipulation; a masterpiece of manoeuvring. She pushed the money at him; threw it at him; gave it to him and lent it to him, with every cheque tacitly apologising that she made money while he did not. When the end came she had less than a thousand left in the bank and no prospect, though he had promised faithfully to repay her, of any more until her next royalty cheque in the summer.

Even so, it was not the increasing pressure over money which came between them in the end. It was something sudden and quite unexpected.

It was a cold, miserable day in early December when Jon found her in the Manuscript Gallery of the British Museum standing looking down at the flat glass case where an open book stared up at her, Byron’s crabbed, slanting hand, much crossed out, flowing across the page of the dedication to ‘Don Juan’. The atmosphere of the gallery, the air conditioning, the strange false light with its muted hum were giving her a headache. She had been concentrating too long and the unexpected tap on her shoulder had given her such a fright she let out a small cry before she turned and saw who it was and remembered Jon had said he would meet her for a quick coffee.