Chapter Eighteen
Lambert Again
It hadn’t been Bernard Lambert’s habit to take to bed at nine in the evening and masturbate.
The past tense crucial in the construction of the above sentence.
Now, however; rising earlier and earlier each day that he may spend more snatched time in the presence of his new obsession; such an occurrence was an everyday event – and, more often than not, was repeated more than once – a routine his disastrous interlude in London had exacerbated rather than disrupt.
It was, in fact, occurring now.
Some days after his discussion with Anya concerning her religion and three weeks on from that disturbing dream in his study, the writer’s optimism concerning his new life and recently started novel had been consigned to history. Not only had the chapters he had sent
