"We have to see Dalida before we hit this city."When I looked at her blankly Jane said, "She watches over people like youand me. She used to live nea...by."Then we came to this extraordinary yellow statue of a woman in asleeveless dress with a scarf round her neck and with a large black marblestone behind her and what looked like a sort of Cartoon picture of agolden sun and its rays behind her head."When I die I want my grave to look like this!" I blurted out."Seriously? But you're a man," Jane. This was her holiday, her week of worship, and she was praying here, in a little flat in London with a man she felt knew her better than anyone in the world, yet whose presence she had physically basked in only a dozen times at most. The world was a funny place. She rolled to look at him in his sleep, and gasped when she saw the scar on his back. She hadn’t noticed it in last night’s darkness in their fumbling hurry. It was enormous, very near his spine. ‘David?’ she whispered, not wanting to. More

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