49
As soon as I received the advance copies of Living with Demons – the anthology of my late brother’s short stories – I gave one to Kimberley. She was thrilled.
How odd, I thought, that my brother had, for a period, ruined my relationship with a woman; and now, by an astonishing turn of events, had done the very opposite.
Later that day, I whispered to Kimberly:
“Do you fancy doing anything this evening?”
That was a private code that she immediately and correctly deciphered as:
“Do you want to have s*x with me tonight?”
She looked up from her keyboard.
“Yes, I think I do. Quite a lot, actually. Meet you in the car park at six?”
We duly met and went to Brian’s apartment. By this time I had installed a new bed. We headed straight for it without consulting one another. It was like p
