31He stopped at Les Hirondelles and had a glass of red wine before he wandered along the back lane to his rented property. No sooner had he stepped over the threshold than the interior grew dark and hot. She came to him, slipping her arms around his waist. “I want us to make love,” she said, “Slowly. To savour and enjoy.”
Afterwards, he made coffee and went onto the terrace. The afternoon sun still beat down, but he noticed the clouds gathering on the far horizon. “It will rain this evening,” he said.
“By this evening you will not care.”
He did not understand the inference, so he quietly drank his coffee and studied her. She wore sunglasses, face turned to the sky, her white, embroidered top open almost to her breasts. His eyes locked on a thin trickle of perspiration running from her t
