‘Yes, we’d like to,’ he said, emphasizing the ‘we’.

Even when we finally got home, I was still walking on air, unable to keep the Cheshire cat grin of exultation off my face. As the lift shot up to the penthouse flat I had the feeling it might take me through the roof straight up to the stars.

My flat was beautiful. Alexander, my brother, who is an expert at interior decorating, had helped me do it up. Everyone gasped when they first saw it. Huge fleshy potted plants, banked at each end of the long drawing room, gave the effect of a jungle. The fourth wall was all window, looking out onto the lamp-lit plane trees of Green Park. Kicking off my shoes, I felt my feet sink into the thick, white carpet.

Almost immediately the telephone rang.

‘Answer it, would you?’ I said to Charlie.

‘Yeah?’ said Charlie, picking up the receiver. ‘It’s someone called Ricardo,’ he added. ‘He sounds a long way away.’

‘Crackling with lust,’ I said, taking the receiver. ‘Go and get a bottle out of the fridge, darling,’ I said to him loudly, so Ricardo could hear.

‘Hi, my darling,’ I said to Ricardo.

When I had taken my time over the telephone call, I wandered into the bedroom. Charlie was lying naked on the blond fur counterpane, drinking champagne and looking beautiful and sulky. On the wall above his head hung my favourite picture: a 16th century Italian oil painting of Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden, surrounded by hundreds of animals and birds.

‘It’s vital,’ my brother had insisted, ‘to have something pretty to look at over one’s bed to while away the excruciating boredom of sexual intercourse.’ I knew that picture pretty well.

Ignoring Charlie, I undressed unhurriedly and sat down at my dressing table, admiring my reflection in the triple mirror. I liked what I saw. My body was as warm as an apricot in the soft light, my breasts, in contrast with the extreme slenderness of the rest of my body, had a heavy golden ripeness. Voluptuously I began to brush my hair.