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there.
    'Oh, my stuff doesn't sell for big bikkies,' she said. It
was the first time Theo had seen her dressed up, and it
was something of a transformation. Freed from her nurse's
smock the top of her breasts and smooth shoulders caught
the light well. Her dark hair was down, and the effect
of that, together with evening make-up, was to make a
different woman of her. 'Yes,' she said in answer to him,
'I've had an exhibition of my own stuff here, earlier this
year, and most of the prints actually sold.'
    'How do you find the time?'
    'I only work at the clinic three and half days a week,
and we haven't got any kids yet.'
    'You'd like to be a full-time artist?' asked Theo.
    'I'm not driven enough. Sometimes I go right off it for
weeks at a time, and this way I don't have to get uptight
about it.'
    Theo filled their glasses again, and they went and sat
on a black sofa in the small foyer of the gallery. It was
the one piece of furniture there, and other people came
in and out, but didn't stand about. Theo enjoyed talking
with Nadine. She knew a good deal about art, but seemed
to enjoy his iconoclastic comments and cheerful slanders
of local academics and artists. He didn't bother to ask if
her husband was with her, because her manner provided
the answer. The night was warm, and from the crowded
exhibition room came a hubbub like that from a colony of
seabirds. Theo and Nadine noticed when it subsided and
stopped their own conversation for a moment. They could
hear Stella talking. 'Shouldn't we go in?' said Nadine.
    'And lose the only sofa in the place?' said Theo. 'You
know, I'd rather go out — go out and have a coffee or
something at the Mad Butcher's round the corner.'
    'It's the Mad Hatter's.'
    'What?'
    'The café's called the Mad Hatter's,' said Nadine. She
seemed very relaxed, and her lipstick caught the light.
    'Through the looking glass and all that. Anyway, what
about your wife?'
    'She'll be going on somewhere for a meal with the artist
and hangers-on. You know how it is at these things. I'll just
beg off. She won't mind. I'll say I'm going to have a drink
with the best screenprinter in the city.'
    He did beg off. He went into the small gallery when
Stella finished her speech and pushed his way towards
her. The swell of conversation had begun again, and
people were on the move about the room as well to view
the paintings. Stella didn't mind that he preferred not to
go with them for a meal, but she introduced him to the
artist, a gaudy young woman with striped hair, and several
others. A certain amount of conversation was required for
politeness, and Theo half expected Nadine to have left the
sofa when he finally got back to the foyer.
    She was still there, but had been joined by a tall,
loose-jointed old man with a collarless white shirt and
Shakespearian eyebrows. 'Walter's one of the co-operative,'
Nadine said, 'He's a woodturner and sculptor.' Theo wasn't
interested in Walter, woodturning or sculpture.
    'Nice to meet you,' he said. 'As a matter of fact Nadine
and I are just off. I've been held up in there.' He remained
standing until Nadine stood as well, and they said goodbye
to Walter, who was still in the process of rising politely
as they walked to the door. 'Enough of art speak for one
night,' said Theo, and he and Nadine escaped into the
coolness of the street.
    It was relaxing at the Mad Hatter's. They talked easily
and with an openness that chance meetings sometimes
invite. Nadine seemed to find him amusing, whereas Stella
often accused him of exaggeration. Theo was able to use
some of his best anecdotes on a new audience without any
nagging concern that he was repeating himself. They didn't
touch, they didn't kiss, when Theo walked with Nadine to
her car, but there was just that pleasant charge of awareness
between them. Nadine said she was interested in the world
of journalism, and Theo said why didn't she come in to
the paper and look around with him some time.
    She did come. She rang a week later and came