CHAPTER TEN
I WENT TO MEET KATHY at the National Theatre café on the South Bank, where the performers would often congregate after rehearsal. She was sitting at the back of the café with a couple of fellow actresses, deep in conversation. They looked up at me as I approached.
“Are your ears burning, darling?” Kathy said as she kissed me.
“Should they be?”
“I’m telling the girls all about you.”
“Ah. Should I leave?”
“Don’t be silly. Sit down—it’s perfect timing. I’ve just got to how we met.”
I sat down, and Kathy continued her story. It was a story she enjoyed telling. She occasionally glanced in my direction and smiled, as if to include me—but the gesture was perfunctory, for this was her tale, not mine.
“I was sitting at a bar when he finally showed up. At last, when I’d given up
