I sort of lean against the door far as I remember and it falls down. I wander around the second floor calling her name. I hear a flurry downstairs and...up the stairs she comes with some wee Irish guy whom I figure maybe is the owner of the joint. He says ‘you broke my fuckin’ door’ and smacks me in the mouth. I taste blood. I say: ‘Sorry. It fell over, Have a drink.’ This mollifies him sufficiently to desist from whacking me again. There’s a moral authority problem in these situations. It’s hard. We both stood perfectly still, staring wide-eyed at each other before I pushed the door closed. Victoria nearly choked on her knickers before spitting them out as we broke, simultaneously, into fits of laughter. We fell into each other’s arms and kissed before I quickly pushed her away.“What’s so funny?” I said, bending down and searching through my bag.“You know, that guy, he so nearly caught me, and I ...” she replied before I cut her short.“And you what? And you wanted him to? Go on, admit. More

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