She rolled onto her side and in the half-light, looked at her lover and thought how strange men were. Patrick was probably one of the best-looking men she’d ever been with, and yet he bored her. In her time she’d had some ugly bastards – look at Arthur Hatfield. But they’d had something about them that had excited or interested her. Patrick was very pretty, but he was dull. When they were out, he’d rarely talk to her. Depending on where they were, he’d be talking business to some other heavy, or if they were at Bruno’s, he’d still be drawn to Annie; and the rapport he shared with her was more natural than anything between him and Iris. In bed he was strictly ‘wham bam thank you ma’am’. Like all men, he’d made the effort at first, but now he was just concerned with his own pleasure, before rolling off her and going to sleep. But despite that, he was probably the best catch Iris had ever had. She didn’t tell him that she still saw Arthur Hatfield one evening a week – although he was usually too pissed to want to do anything; and there were her other two clients - the big boss from the railways who would treat her to an overnight stay at The Hilton Park Lane once a fortnight, and the judge who she saw one afternoon a week in his chambers.
