About this story
Over cigarettes, you and Mitchy discuss how to introduce Longdon to Nanda herself, and how much of her should be decided before she is even in the room. She has the last word: a note asking who first told him she needed rescuing.
How it opens
Rain blackened the London street while every cab except one vanished from dinner.
Mr LongdonVanderbank, might our routes coincide, or has London changed direction too?
The older guest had returned after thirty years away and wore novelty beneath perfect tailoring.
Keep the driver waiting; one should pay extravagantly for shelter from reflection.
Choose
Was it our conversation, or the people conducting it?
You looked at Mrs Brookenham as though remembering another face.
Has London become worse, or merely audible about what it always knew?