He was in his work clothes, a fine white cotton shirt open at the neck and with its sleeves rolled up, a pair of dun chinos, and rough suede desert boots. His eyes were open, and twinkling at the expression of huge joy busy writing itself on her face. Then she pounced on him to give each cheek a smacking, lipsticky kiss, while he adroitly transferred her to her chair and himself to a spare one, ignoring the dog’s semi-hysteria at seeing Delia. “When did you get in?” she asked, thumping the dog. “Yesterday’s Red Eye, but I slept on the plane—Myron put me in first class.” “It does make a difference. Why are you here?” “I’m surplus to requirements in California, Deels. It took me one day to see how right Sophia was about Desdemona, who dived into the life like a man dying of thirst into a mirage that turns out to be real. Sophia was also right about the kids, who think they’ve arrived in toddler heaven. It took me two days to see that Myron and Sophia between them could set up world peace, if only the world were sensible enough to grant them the authority.
