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Sunday 4th September 1990

       James and I had sex.

       It happened on Saturday night.

       He called me in the afternoon and the first thing he said was ‘I’ve barely slept for thinking about you.’

       I knew exactly how he felt. I hadn’t stopped thinking about him either. I’d woken up on Saturday morning with the most terrible feeling of dread that I’d never see him again. I was convinced I’d said something unforgiveable on Friday night and that, in the cold light of day, he’d realized that I wasn’t the woman for him after all.

       So sure was I that, when James rang and said he couldn’t stop thinking about me, I was totally floored.

       ‘Absolutely,’ I said when he said he needed to see me ASAP. ‘If I jump in the shower now then hop on the tube I could be in Camden in—’

       ‘Actually I was thinking that we could meet for dinner this evening.’

       What must he think of me – taking him literally like I had no life and no self-control? He didn’t laugh, thankfully, instead asked if I’d ever been to some fancy restaurant in St Pancras. I’d never heard of it and said as much, so James explained that it had come highly recommended by a friend.

       Of course then I had another clothing dilemma (finally settling on my tried and tested little black dress) and was twenty minutes late as I walked in the restaurant at 8.20 p.m., trying not to ogle the stunning décor, the linen and crystal dressed tables and the immaculately turned out maître-d’ who was showing me to my table. James stood up as we drew near. He was dressed in a three-piece grey suit with a lilac cravat at his throat and elegant silver cufflinks at his wrists. I felt dowdy in my three-year-old dress and scuffed heels but, when James looked me up and down and his eyes widened in appreciation, I felt like the most attractive woman in the whole restaurant.

       ‘I can’t stop staring at you,’ he said after the maître-d’ seated me, handed us our menus and then left. ‘You always look beautiful but tonight you look,’ he shook his head as though dazed, ‘ridiculously sexy.’

       I felt myself blush as his eyes flicked to my cleavage. ‘Thank you.’

       ‘Honestly Susan, I don’t think you have any idea of the effect you’re having on me, and every other man in the room.’

       I thought that was a bit over the top but when my eyes flicked to the two men having a business meeting at the next table they nodded at me appreciatively.

       ‘So,’ James reached across the table for my hand as I drained my first glass of wine. ‘What do you like?’

       I glanced at the menu. ‘The scallops sound nice.’

       He shook his head and slipped his fingers between mine, sliding them back and forwards. ‘That wasn’t what I meant.’

       I tried to swerve away from the question, to a more neutral conversation, but James topped up my wine glass and fixed me with that intense look of his.

       ‘I haven’t been able to get you out of my head all day,’ he said.

       ‘Me neither.’

       ‘I don’t think you understand.’ He tightened his grip on my hand and lowered his voice. ‘I only spent one evening with you but I haven’t been able to do anything because my mind and body have been craving you.’

       I nodded, too shy to admit how many times I’d luxuriated in the fantasy of him lying naked beneath me.

       ‘It’s killing me,’ he continued, ‘sitting opposite you at the table, not able to touch you, not able to kiss you, not able to,’ his voice became gravelly, ‘fuck you.’

       I didn’t look away. Instead I ran my hand over his, lightly tracing my fingers over the contours of his knuckles and whispered, ‘There are rooms upstairs.’

       ‘So there are.’ He smiled widely. ‘But now I know how much you want me, I’m going to make you wait.’

       I squealed in protest but he shook his head, still grinning, and poured me another glass of wine.

       ‘Shall we order?’ he said. ‘The scallops look nice.’

       The non-sexual mood didn’t last long and by the time our starters arrived, the air was blue. It wasn’t the sort of thing I’d normally talk about in a fancy restaurant but James kept slipping his fingers in and out of mine, I was circling his ankle with my stockinged foot and we were on our second bottle of wine and when he asked me if I’d ever had sex alfresco I was feeling bold so I admitted to sex in a tent, sex in a back garden after a party and a sandy attempt at oral sex on a beach. James listened to my stories, his eyes shining with excitement then urged me on, asking me if I’d ever indulged in S&M or role play, demanding I tell him what my favourite position was. I giggled as I told him that Nathan and I had messed around with silk scarves and handcuffs.

       ‘How about you?’ I asked after the waiter had placed our main courses in front of us. ‘What have you tried?’

       ‘Very little,’ James raised an eyebrow, ‘compared to you.’

       He was smiling when he said it but there was a judgemental tone in his inflection that rankled me.

       James noticed my change in mood immediately.

       ‘Oh Suzy.’ He grabbed my hand. ‘Suzy-Sue. Are you sulking? Darling, I was only playing. Look at me, please.’

       I raised my eyelashes then laughed at the pouty expression on James’s face – an obvious imitation of my own.

       ‘I’ve been very naughty,’ he said, running his thumb over the back of my hand, ‘and I’ve done some terrible things but,’ his eyes glittered with promise, ‘not as terrible as the things I’m going to do to you.’

       ‘Is that a threat or a promise?’

       He released my hand, cut into his steak and smiled. ‘Both.’

       How we managed to check in, make it upstairs in the lift and operate the door mechanism to the room with our clothes still on, I have no idea because the second the door slammed behind us we tore at each other’s clothes, ripping off shirts, dresses, stockings and underwear. The sex was fast, furious, animalistic and over quickly, so desperate was our desire to fuck. We lay in each other’s arms, sweaty and panting for all of ten minutes before James rolled me onto my side, his erection pressed against my lower back, and fucked me again. At some point in the night we had sex in the bathroom. We were supposed to shower together to get clean but the lure of the water, the soap and two slippery bodies was too much. By the time we collapsed onto the bed again, the sun was peeping through the curtains.

       ‘I feel like I’m in a dream,’ James said, tracing his finger down my forehead, along my nose and resting in the dip of my cupid’s bow. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.’

       ‘I know.’ I stroked his arms, wrapping my hand around the contour of his bicep, cradling the muscle in my palm. ‘I can’t believe this is really happening.’

       ‘It is.’ He leaned towards me and kissed me tenderly, then parted my lips with his tongue and kissed me again, harder this time, his hand on my breast. Seconds later he was on top of me again. It must

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