'You caught the broadcast last night?' Ursula was saying.

'Of course,' said Julia.

'Rather good, wasn't it? Did you think so, Helen? I think we did awfully well… And wasn't it tremendous, seeing Julia's face in the middle of the Radio Times!'

'Oh, it was rotten,' said Julia, before Helen could answer. 'That picture's so frightfully Catholic! I look like I'm about to be bound to a wheel, or have my eyes put out!'

'Nonsense!'

They laughed together. Then Julia said, 'But, look here, Ursula. Why don't you join us?'

Ursula shook her head. 'I know if I sit, I simply shan't want to get up… I shall be sick with envy, though, thinking about you all day. It's just too disgustingly clever of you both. But of course, you live so very near. And such a charming house, too!' She spoke to Helen again. 'I said to Julia, one would never know such a place existed, so close to the Edgware Road.'

'You've seen it?' asked Helen in surprise.

'Oh, just for a moment-'

Julia said, 'Ursula called round, one day last week. Surely I told you, Helen?'

'I must have forgotten.'

'I wanted to take a peek,' said Ursula, 'at Julia's study. It's always so fascinating, I think, seeing where writers do their work. Though I'm not sure whether I really envy you, Helen. I don't know how I'd feel, having my friend scribbling away over my head, working out the best way to despatch her next victim-by poison, or the rope!'

She said the word 'friend', Helen thought, in a special sort of way-as if to say: We understand one another, of course. As if to say, in fact: We're all 'friends' together. She had taken off her gloves, to bring out a silver cigarette-case from her pocket; and as she opened the case up Helen saw her short manicured nails, and the discreet little signet ring on the smallest finger of her left hand…

She held the cigarettes out. Helen shook her head. Julia, however, moved forward, and she and Ursula spent a moment fussing with a lighter-for a breeze had risen and kept blowing out the flame.

They spoke further about 'Armchair Detective' and the Radio Times; about the BBC and Ursula's job there… Then, 'Well, my dears,' said Ursula, when her cigarette was finished, 'I must be off. It's been so nice. You must both come over, some time, to Clapham. You must come for supper-or, better still, I could put together a bit of a party.' Her gaze grew mischievous again. 'We could make it an all-girl thing. What do you say?'

'But of course, we'd love to,' said Julia, when Helen said nothing.

Ursula beamed. 'That's settled, then. I'll let you know.' She took Julia's hand and playfully shook it. 'I've one or two friends who would be thrilled to meet you, Julia. They're such fans!' She started putting on her gloves, and turned to Helen again. 'Goodbye, Helen. It's been so nice to meet you properly…'

'Well,' said Julia, as she sat back down. She was watching Ursula making her quick, smart way across the park in the direction of Portland Place.

'Yes,' said Helen, rather thinly.

'Amusing, isn't she?'

'I suppose so… Of course, she's more your class than mine.'

Julia looked round, laughing. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'She's a bit hearty, is all I meant… When did you take her to the house?'

'Just last week. I told you, Helen.'

'Did you?'

'You don't think I did it in secret?'

'No,' said Helen quickly. 'No.'

'It was only for a minute.'

'She's not how I imagined. I thought you told me she was married.'

'She is married. Her husband's a barrister. They live apart.'

'I didn't know she was- Well.' Helen lowered her voice. 'Like us.'

Julia shrugged. 'I don't know what she is, really. A bit of an oddity, I think… Still, that party might be fun.'

Helen looked at her. 'You wouldn't want to go, really?'

'Yes, why not?'

'I thought you were just being polite. “An all-girl thing.” You know what that means.' She looked down, her colour rising slightly. 'Anyone might be there.'

Julia didn't answer for a moment. When she spoke, she sounded impatient or annoyed. 'Well, what if they are? It won't kill us… It might even be fun. Imagine that!'

'It'll certainly be fun for Ursula Waring, anyway,' said Helen, before she could stop herself. 'Having you there, like some sort of prize pig-'

Julia was watching her. She said coldly, 'What's the matter with you?' And then, when Helen wouldn't answer: 'It's not- Oh, no.' She began to laugh. 'Not really, Helen? Not because of Ursula?'

Helen moved away. 'No,' she said; and she lay back down, with a sharp, graceless movement. She put her arm across her eyes, to keep off the sun and Julia's gaze… After a moment she felt Julia lie down, too. She must have reached into the bag and brought out her book: Helen heard her leafing through its pages, looking for her place.

But what Helen could see, in the shifting blood-coloured depths of her own eyelids, was Ursula Waring's mischievous dark gaze. She saw the way that Ursula and Julia had stood together, lighting their cigarettes. She saw again Ursula playfully shaking Julia's hand… Then she thought back. She remembered how keen Julia had been to get to the park: Come on! Come quick!-her fingers slipping away from Helen's in her impatience. Was it Ursula she'd wanted to see? Was it? Had they arranged the whole thing?

Her heart beat faster. Ten minutes before she had been lying just like this, enjoying the familiar, secret nearness of Julia's limbs. She'd wanted to hold on to that moment, make a crystal bead of it. Now the bead felt shattered. For what was Julia to her, after all? She couldn't lean to her and kiss her. What could she do, to say to the world that Julia was hers? What did she have, to keep Julia faithful? She had only herself: her pressed-meat thighs, her onion face…

These thoughts raged through her like a darkness in her blood, while Julia read on; while the band played a final parp-parp-parp, then put its instruments away; while the sun crept slowly over the sky, and shadows extended themselves across the yellow ground… But at last the miserable panic subsided. The darkness shrank, folded itself up. She said to herself, What an idiot you are! Julia loves you. It's only this beast in you she hates, this ridiculous monster-

She moved her wrist again, so that it just touched Julia's thigh. Julia kept still for a moment, then moved her own wrist, to meet it. She put down her book and propped herself up. She took up an apple and a knife. She peeled the apple in one long strip, then cut the fruit into quarters and handed two of them to Helen. The ate together, watching the running about of dogs and children, as they had before.

Then they caught each other's gaze. Julia said, with a hint of coolness still, 'All over, now?'

Helen coloured. 'Yes, Julia.'

Julia smiled. When she'd finished eating the apple she lay back down, and picked up her book again; and Helen watched her as she read. Her eyes were moving from word to word, but apart from that her face was still, closed, blemishless as wax.

'You look like a film-star,' said Reggie, as Viv got into his car. He made a show of looking her over. 'Can I have your autograph?'

'Just get going, will you?' she said. She'd been standing in the sun, waiting for him, for half an hour. They moved together and briefly kissed. He let down the handbrake and the car moved off.

She was wearing a light cotton dress and a plum-coloured cardigan, and sunglasses with pale plastic frames; instead of a hat she had a white silk scarf, that she'd tied in a knot beneath her chin. The scarf and the sunglasses looked striking against the dark of her hair and the red of her lipstick. She straightened her skirt, making herself comfortable; then wound down her window and sat with her elbow on the sill, her face in the draught-like a girl in an American picture, just as Reggie had said. Slowing the car for a traffic-light, he put his hand on her thigh and murmured admiringly, 'Oh, if the boys in Hendon could only see me now!'