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want is influenced by your upbringing, your culture, your social circle. Even by the size of your nose.’
    ‘The size of your nose!’
    ‘Well, I’ve got a funny pointy nose. It’s not a beautiful nose. That’s going to influence my decisions when it comes, say, to finding a wife. No one’s going to pick me out in a beauty parade. So I have to manage some other way.’
    ‘Oh, Rupert. Don’t be so silly.’ He couldn’t make out her face very well, but her voice sounded as though she was smiling. ‘It’s a noble nose.’
    ‘My point is, if I looked like Clark Gable I would make a different set of decisions.’
    ‘So there isn’t a girlfriend waiting faithfully at home?’
    ‘Alas, no.’
    ‘Me neither. Boyfriend, I mean.’
    ‘Oh, you won’t have any trouble, Joyce,’ said Rupert. ‘Plenty of chaps would be glad to nab you.’
    ‘Well, I’d like to know where they are,’ said Joyce.
    ‘They’re probably just too shy to say so.’
    ‘Oh, bother shyness. Don’t you think it’s just the biggest swiz there is? If only everyone would just say what they wanted, life would be so much simpler.’
    ‘Do you really think so?’
    ‘Yes. I do.’
    ‘What do you think about friendship, Joyce?’
    ‘I’m all for it. Isn’t everybody?’
    ‘Do you think friendship can ever turn into something more?’
    ‘What, like love, you mean? Yes, of course. Happens all the time. You know Doreen in Movement Control? She was best pals with the sergeant there, and now they’re engaged to be married. Most couples start out as friends, I should say.’
    Rupert listened as she chatted on, trying to gauge whether she had any inkling that the conversation might have a personal bearing.
    ‘So what is it, you think, that makes some friendships take that next step?’
    ‘Well, it’s nothing to do with noses, I can tell you that.’
    She laughed and met his eyes, and then the laugh froze. He saw in that instant that she had suddenly understood what he wanted to say, and that she didn’t want him to say it, and was acutely, blushingly embarrassed. In the instant that followed, he in his turn was suffused with dread and humiliation at thethought that his foolhardy hopes were now exposed to the awkward stumblings of her pity.
    A silence fell. Rupert found himself entirely unable to speak. To cover his shame he took a mouthful of fried rice, and found himself unable to swallow.
    ‘Some friendships,’ said Joyce, looking down now, speaking hurriedly, ‘are much better staying as friendships, aren’t they? And really, truly, I do sometimes think that good friends are more important than boyfriends or husbands. I mean, with a boyfriend you have to fuss over them and look after them and so on, but with a friend you can be equals. You can say what you really think. And you’re not tied down, are you? You’re free. It’s like what you were saying about free will. Friends are all about free choice, aren’t they? And that makes them special.’
    As she uttered the word ‘special’ she looked at the platter between them.
    ‘Oh, Lord. We haven’t eaten very much, have we?’
    ‘It’s the monsoon,’ said Rupert. ‘The humidity takes away the appetite.’
    ‘I got caught the other day!’ Joyce gladly followed his lead into neutral territory. ‘I cantered for shelter, but I still got a soaking.’
    ‘Me too,’ said Rupert. ‘That’s why I was late for Dickie’s last briefing.’
    He remembered the cooks, and the monkey on a string with its frightened staring face. He could feel the misery gathering like a distant storm, swelling across the sky, casting its approaching shadow. Only his pride, and the sustaining power of good manners, kept him smiling, exchanging commonplaces, at the grease-stained table.
    Neither of them had the will to continue for long. Rupert paid the bill for both of them, brushing aside Joyce’s protests.
    ‘My pleasure,’ he said. ‘Good to have company once in a while.’
    He walked her