"You look rather pale," he said to Sara, then, to Graham, "Your friend isn't going to throw up, is she?"

"No, I'm not," Sara said loudly, raising her face. "Don't mind me; I'll just go and lie down in the snow or something..." She started as though to make for the front door, but Mr Hunter held up a hand to stop her.

"Not at all. I do beg your pardon. I'll find you... here, come with me." He put the cat on top of an old sofa which had been shoved against the hallway wall, and led Graham and Sara towards the stairs.

On the far side of Farringdon Road, Graham passed Easton Street, where another painter's or window-cleaner's cradle lay on the pavement, up-ended for some reason, neat coils of rope around it. Summer; the season for painting and scaffolding. Getting things done after the winter cover-up. He found himself smiling, recalling yet again that first meeting, that strange, almost hallucinogenic evening. He stepped past an old lady, standing still in the middle of the pavement, seemingly looking across the road at a man in elbow-crutches waiting to cross the street. Graham, almost automatically, tried to imagine drawing the scene.

"I saw Slater heading out the door with some rug-chested young Romeo," Mr Hunter said as they got to the second-floor landing in the big house. "I hope you weren't depending on him for a lift, were you?" he asked Graham. Graham shook his head. Slater didn't even drive, as far as Graham knew.

Mr Hunter unlocked a door and opened it, switching the room light on. "This is our little girl's room; you lie down, young lady. And take good care of her, Graham; I'll send my wife up to make sure you're all right." He smiled at Sara, then Graham, then closed the door behind them.

"Well," Graham said awkwardly as Sara sat down on the small bed, "that's us told." He bit his lip, wondered what he was supposed to do now. Sara put her head in her hands. He stared at the sooty-looking ball of black chaos that was her hair, wanting her, terrified of her. She looked up at him. He said, "Are you all right? What's wrong? I mean, do you... are you hurting?"