I hovered over the register. After a moment’s hesitation, under David’s signature, which read D. Mitchell-Drew, I signed C. H. Williams, with a little flourish at the end like a pig’s tail.

“Rooms 255 and 256, sir,” said the clerk, handing the bell boy the key. “Would you like to order dinner or breakfast, or morning newspapers, or an alarm call?”

I hoped David would order all these things, except the alarm call. I was about to speak, but he brushed the man’s words aside. “No, nothing. Come along, Clara.”

We followed the bell boy into the lift and up to the second floor. After a few steps along a carpeted corridor, he opened the door of room 255 and stood back. I entered a pretty, but not particularly luxurious, room. There was no balcony, though the tall window did look out over the sea.

“You take this room, my dear,” said David. He asked for my bag to be brought in and for his own to be put in room 256. While I waited for him to tip and dismiss the bell boy, I went to the window and parted the lace curtains. Across the street from the hotel the Grand Pier jutted into the sea. Ice-cream men and ticket sellers stood at its entrance, but business was very slack. It was too cold for trippers.

And the pier, I noted, was painted cream.

“This place should be called Creamton, not Brighton,” I said to David, letting the curtain go. “Though I suppose when the sun shines on all this cream paint, it does look quite bright.”

Suddenly he was very close behind me. I could feel the warmth of his body. “Have you finished talking drivel, dearest?” he asked playfully. “Because if so, I have other employment for you.”

I turned, and put my hand on his chest. His shirt felt damp. I wondered why he was so hot when the room was cool enough for me to be comfortable wearing my fox fur. He tried to kiss me, but I pulled away. “David, are you all right? You seem so hot – perhaps you have a fever. Oh, I hope you’re not going to be ill!”

“Of course I’m not going to be ill. I do feel warm, though.” He smiled his most sensual smile. “I must be fired with passion, my darling.”

“Then you may kiss me when I have cleaned myself up a little.” The train journey had made me feel grubby, though I had bathed that morning. “Where’s the bathroom?”