She had never even brought a friend home in her time at the Becks, let alone been asked on dates. ‘You give me an excellent excuse to have in the Madeira,’ said his hostess, reaching for a silver hand bell and setting it pealing. Martin's on Ludgate-hill, and Christchurch in Newgate Street, were also distinguishable. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. It was Ennison who for the rest of his visit was quiet and subdued. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. Sheila’s boys hadn’t been much help when they were around the house, anyway, they were more partial to lolling around on couches and running around with their girls.
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