With her sighs getting louder and more urgent he carefully shifted his considerable weight before entering her – only to be forestalled by the first few bars of Beethoven's For Elise . . . crescendo.
'Belinda, when will you remember to switch off your wretched mobile?!'
But she was already wriggling out from under him and reaching for her phone. 'Hello . . . yes, speaking. Correct, the flat is still available . . . Of course, what would you like to know? – Aaah' An involuntary intake of breath as her lover sat up and touched her between the thighs from behind. 'Well perhaps it would be better if I rang back tomorrow morning . . . All right, at nine thirty. I've got your number.' Dropping the phone on the bed she twisted round and gave him a long kiss.
'You know, David, self-control is not only a virtue but it's useful when trying to sell your flat at a good price.'
'A relentless, calculating yuppie who makes love like a world-class courtesan – who would believe it?'
'But isn't that perfect for a man? You don't have to support me and no competition. Lots and lots of love – physical and the other sort – and no strings! Come on, we're wasting precious time.'
Later he rolled over on to his back. 'Phew! You must be plugged into your own private power station.'
'You're too modest, David. Tenderness to make a girl weep – and megawatts to spare.'
'It must be catching – the same as being able to change the subject ten times in as many minutes. When we first met I didn't know what you were talking about half the time.'
'Poor you. I know you were struggling but now you keep up very well. I'm impressed – look, let's go out somewhere. After all, we don't want to lose the cutting edge'
An hour later they sat down at the last free table in the lounge bar. It was non-rock evergreen night with live music.
'It was a brilliant idea of yours coming here, David. You have a talent for guessing what I would like.'
Grinning he took her hand in his. 'Going out with you after making love is quite unlike other times, Belinda. You look different.'
She laughed. 'Perhaps it depends on who's looking. Listen, it's a Frank Sinatra number and there are a few couples on the floor. Let's have a smoochy dance.'
'If we'd stayed at home we could have snuggled up together the next three hours.'
'You know me. I like the bright lights.'
'Still, it's Sunday tomorrow. We could for a long walk in the afternoon.'
'Why not? If you like, you can try out lecture one of your "philosophy for sixth-formers" on me – oh, I'm sorry, no. I have to finish off this wretched presentation. But we can go and see the Monet exhibition Wednesday evening.'
'I was just about to go in on my own. You know I can't stand it when you're late, David. I came straight here without a chance to eat anything. And you? Just a silly grin all over your face!'
'Sorry but we must make a rather strange pair. You with your career girl outfit, lean and hungry look, not a hair out of place, –'