THE LIBRARY

She locked the door and turned to face him. He could see she was excited also, her chest rising and falling.

“We have ten minutes,” she said.

They kissed. He held her fiercely to him, his face in the angle of her neck and shoulder. His lips touched her moist skin, feeding off her salt. He breathed in her smell.

“Jesus Christ,” he said. “My God, you don’t know how—”

“Don’t cry,” she said, smiling at him. “You’ll set me off.”

“Is the nurse—”

“No. But there are servants. I can’t risk anything.”

They sat down opposite each other, he held both her hands in his, and made every banal declaration to her that he could think of. He kissed her knuckles, pressed them to his forehead.

“I have to be with you,” he said. “It’s killing me. We have to find some way.”

“But what?”

“I don’t know,” he said, real despair in his voice. “I just can’t think.”

“An hotel?”

“In Manila? There are no secrets in this wretched place. Everyone knows me. Everyone watches everyone else. Impossible.” He felt the frustration build in him. “Damn this place. Damn this stinking city.” He sank to his knees in front of her, putting his arms round her hips, burying his face in her lap, feeling her hands on his head, his shoulders.

“I could come to the hospital again,” she whispered. “Maybe just once more. I can’t go unaccompanied too often. I could have another crisis or something. A relapse, maybe.”

“Wednesday, the same time. No-one will be there.”

“Her day off is Friday.”

“Friday, then.” He kissed her, his tongue in her mouth. Her cool mouth, her slick quick tongue. He squeezed her breasts.

“Salvador, no.” She stood up and unlocked the door. She rang a small handbell and sat down, leaving the door ajar. “We have to be careful,” she said. “So very careful. Stay and have tea with me, let all the servants see. Nothing could be more natural. When I write to Jepson I’ll tell him about your visit. Everything must be above suspicion.”