I thought aboutClare Corrigan, and whether we'd get on. I thought about the Sunday lunchmy mother would be preparing for two instead of three. I thoug...t aboutLisa, wondering if she was thinking about me.It started with a station on the edge of an industrial estate thatmaterialised out of nowhere. Then there were steep slopes on either sideof the line, the hill to the right topped with a memorial of some kind.Streets, warehouses, factories, depots and gasworks closed in. A long,open platform,. Listening to them highlighted the humor and roughness of their accent. When Rachel went off to dance with her incredible reflection, Angela and I talked. Once we broke through our strangeness to each other, we found talking easy. And listening. I didn't have a lot to say, but she did. From her lips to my ear was a diverse parade of insights. Only the lustful tug of Rachel, sending me into that libido cloud, could draw me away from our conversation.After seeing her again at the club a couple. More

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