Page 41 of A Night with Damien Spur

‘Well, I know it hasn’t been easy having me around,’ he said slowly. ‘And now I’ve met your new friend Damien, who seems a lovely guy, I might add, I think you need some space. So…’

Yes… Come on, David, spit it out.

‘Stevie’s asked me to come and share his flat. What do you think?’

‘Well, it seems a good idea, but how will I…’

He finished her sentence. ‘…make ends meet?’

‘Yes.’

‘Don’t worry about the money. I’ll still help you with the bills.’

‘But how can you afford it?’

‘Because – here comes the big one – surprise number three. I’m going to manage a gastropub.’

‘Well, I certainly didn’t expect that. What wonderful news! So then, when are you leaving?’

‘At the end of the week,’ he replied. ‘And I start my new job next Monday.’

He whisked a bottle of champagne from his case. ‘Ready chilled. Let’s celebrate!’

Damien was half asleep when the doorbell rang. He looked at his watch. It was 6 p.m. Anna was early.

He opened the door in his dressing gown. She looked bemused.

‘Oh, have I got the wrong day?’

‘No. But you’re a little premature. We said six thirty, didn’t we? I like to have a snooze between five and six, if I can.’

‘Oh dear, my mistake. So sorry. I can come back later if you like?’

‘Of course not. Do come in.’ Anna noticed he was barefoot. He had beautiful toes. Perfectly formed.

‘Would you like a drink while I get dressed?’ he said.

What a pity. He looks so sexy in hisivory, damasksilk robe. Why bother to get dressed when he’s only going to have to take it off again?

‘Yes, please,’ she said.

He took out a bottle of wine from the fridge and poured her a glass of excellent white burgundy. ‘I’ll just be a tick,’ he said, and disappeared.

Anna looked at the elegant art deco light, the impeccable satinwood desk, the ruby-red Persian carpet, and imagined herself settled in the blue velvet armchair in a cream silkpeignoir. Damien Spur’s girlfriend, the novelist Anna Rose. Twenty minutes later, he appeared again.

‘Now then, let’s continue.’

They sat at his desk, side by side. Anna stole a quick glance at his handsome profile. Forehead, eyes, nose, lips, chin in perfect symmetry.

Just like a Greek god. Oh dear, you’ve got it bad, Anna. You lovestruck fool. Stop staring at him. Concentrate on the work or you’ll lose his respect.

It was hard. They were sitting so close to each other. His neck smelt of lemons. Everything about him was sensual.

‘Good, really good,’ Damien said. ‘So much better. The writing really flows now. You’ve worked very hard. Taken the notes and given me back more than I expected. A few more sessions and I think we’ll have a book.’

And that’s what Anna feared. But she knew not to ask him questions. Just take what she could. Enjoy it while it lasted.

‘Thank you, Damien. You’re a wonderful teacher.’ She gave him a coy look.

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