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‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands. ‘I can manage now. “His love-making,” she remarked, “struck me as unconvincing. . ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. ” Annabel laughed hardly. ” 74 She hung up the phone. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. It was something that would create a mutual claim, a relationship. We married, and for a time we were happy.
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