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This was back in the fifties and sixties. They’re usually known as the Nordic type. But the Nordics have mostly been replaced now by the Greys. They have large, egg-shaped heads, big almond-shaped eyes, tiny noses and mouths, and grey skin.’
    I looked around the room. Many of the cuttings on the walls showed artists’ impressions of Greys – it was a familiar image and again I thought that the reason everybody described aliens as such was because they were echoing all the others who’d gone before them.
    ‘We believe that Greys exist, as do many other types of extraterrestrials. We think the Greys come from a system that is relatively close to Earth and that the other extraterrestrials nominated the Greys as a kind of scout party, to see if we humans are worth inviting into the Chorus.’
    ‘The what?’
    ‘It’s a community of non-humans made up of intelligent species from different planets. We call it the Chorus.’
    She sounded like she was quoting directly. ‘Like an alien club?’ I said.
    ‘More like a council. Or, I don’t know, like the UN or something.’
    I laughed. ‘United Planets.’
    ‘Yes.’ She gave me her ‘don’t mock’ look and I adopted a straight face. ‘Andrew believes that the Chorus are monitoring us to see if we are worthy of joining them. This will lead to what we call a close encounter of the fifth kind. Which is where a select group of humans will be chosen as ambassadors, or emissaries, to join the Chorus in order to represent this planet. Eventually, if this group is successful in showing that we can make a positive contribution, the Chorus will reveal itself to the planet as a whole and the entire human race will be invited to join.’
    I laughed again. ‘It sounds like joining the European Union. Will there be a single currency? Will we be able to opt out?’ Another look. ‘Sorry.’
    ‘It’s all right.’ She looked sad as she looked up at me. ‘So now you think I’m a complete nutter and you’re never going to want to see me again. I guess I don’t blame you.’
    I took her hand. ‘Don’t be silly. It doesn’t bother me at all. If you were a neo-Nazi or believed that you were a vampire or something, then I would be put off, but believing in aliens . . .’ I shrugged. ‘I really like you, Marie. I think you’re beautiful and . . . different. That’s why I like you.’
    She leaned into me and kissed me again. We lay down on her bed and I kissed her neck and face, and she put her hands inside my shirt and touched my skin. I closed my eyes and inhaled her, the sensation of a body against mine. I had forgotten how good it felt. Outside, the sun went down and the room darkened. I pushed up Marie’s T-shirt and kissed her belly. She sighed, but when I moved to unbutton her jeans she said, ‘Not yet.’
    Warm in the fading light, I kissed her and smiled. I forgot all about aliens and UFOs and intergalactic councils. This was here, this was now, and this was real. For the first time since I could remember, I was happy.

5
    ‘Move in with me,’ I said, three weeks later.
    She was naked beneath the quilt in my bedroom, warm and drowsy and beautiful, looking up at me with her hooded eyelids, her make-up smudged and hair tangled on the pillow.
    ‘It makes sense,’ I said. ‘You won’t have to worry about rent or being evicted. And I want you to live with me. I love you. I want you in my home. I want you in my bed every night.’ I kissed her.
    ‘I’m in it every night anyway.’
    It was far too soon to ask someone to move in with you. But I didn’t care. I was smitten. No, more than that. I felt possessed , as if some spirit had got inside me and was running around my body, bumping into my heart, spinning in my stomach, filling me up with energy. I felt half delirious. Marie, Marie, Marie. I whispered her name to myself as I walked down the street or drove my car. I breathed in and could smell her, her scent in my nostrils, like she was a perfume that I