'Partying for Hogmanay. We got a lift to the end of the road. We were on our way home when we saw your light!

'Shall we have a drink, then?' he said eagerly. 'Shall we?' He shot a look at the dark girl, who was staring at the room, moving her eyes slowly, taking it all in, but again it was the fair one who replied.

'We've brought our own,' she said. She pulled a bottle from the woven shoulder bag she'd been clutching on her knee. It had a cork jammed in the top and was three-quarters full. He thought it would be white wine, but he didn't really know. He'd never tasted wine. She pulled the cork from the bottle with sharp, white teeth. The action shocked him.

When he realized what she intended doing he wanted to shout to her to stop. He imagined the teeth snapped off at the roots.

He should have offered to open it for her. That would have been the gentlemanly thing to do. Instead, he only watched, fascinated. The girl drank from the bottle, wiped the lip with her hand, then passed it on to her friend. He reached out for his whisky. His hands were shaking and he spilled a couple of drops on to the oilcloth when he poured himself a glass. He held out his glass and the dark girl clinked the wine bottle against it. Her eyes were narrow. The lids were painted blue and grey and were lined with black.

'I'm Sally: the blonde girl said. She didn't have the dark one's capacity for silence. She'd be one for noise, he decided. Chatter and music. 'Sally Henry!

'Henry: he repeated. The name was familiar, though he couldn't quite place it. He was out of touch. His thoughts had never been sharp, but now thinking took an effort. It was like seeing through a thick sea fog. He could make out shapes and vague ideas but focus was difficult. 'Where do you live?'