'Nice,' he said. 'Really nice.'
'You were hungry, weren't you?'
He stared directly at her.
'Yes . . . and so were you.'
Blood stained her face and she looked away.
'Nothing to turn hot about.' He smiled his dazzling smile. 'It's nature. You liked it, didn't you? I'll tell you something: you were good . . . really good.'
'Please don't talk about it. I've never done it before.'
'So what? You have to start sometime.' He got to his feet. 'Well, I must be taking off.' He paused. 'Thanks for everything. It was real nice . . . all of it.'
He watched her hands turn into fists.
'Wouldn't you like to — to stay?' she said breathlessly. 'It's such a horrid night. You can stay if you like.'
He shook his head.
'Got to get back to my pad.' He began to move slowly to the front door.
'I suppose we — we could see each other again,' she said, her dark eyes desperate.
Here it is, he thought. The hook.
'You never know. Things happen, don't they? So long,' and before she realized he was really going, he had gone.
The front door slammed. The sound was like a disastrous clap of thunder inside her head.
It wasn't until the following evening that she discovered the loss of her cigarette case and lighter, given to her by Shalik as a birthday present, and her pieces of jewellery. The discovery shocked her and she knew at once who had taken them. Her first reaction was to rush to the telephone to inform the police, but then she controlled her anger and sat down to think. He was out of work. He had been hungry. What did she need with a gold cigarette case or the lighter? She didn't smoke anyway. Thinking of him, she decided that he could have everything she owned so long as he came back to her.
For five long, shattering days, she waited with growing desperation to hear from him again until finally a slow horror began to build up inside her that she would have to face the crushing fact that he had made use of her, stolen her things and had forgotten her.
Then on the fifth night, as she sat miserably alone in her flat, facing yet another long night of loneliness, the telephone bell rang. Her heart gave a great leap as she sprang to her feet and ran across the room to snatch up the receiver.
'Yes?'
'This is Daz . . . remember me?'
Her legs felt so weak she had to sit down.
'Of course.'
'Look, I'm sorry I took your things. You mad at me?'
'No . . . of course not.'
'Well, it wasn't nice. I pawned them. I had to have money fast . . . bit of trouble. I'll let you have the tickets . . . Shall I bring them round now?'
'Yes.'
'Okay, then,' and then line went dead.
He didn't arrive until 22.05 hrs., giving her a frantic wait of an hour and a half. She thought he looked thinner and he wore a scowling frown that gave him a dark, sullen look.
'Here you are,' he said, dropping three pawn tickets on the table. 'I shouldn't have done it . . . but I was in trouble . . . I had to raise money fast.'
