Zoe called out “come in!”. I hunched up on my elbow to look at her. Getting into bed was a repeat of the night before although Zoe didn’t ask me look away. She looked back at me “come on, time to get up! I’d like one of your paintings. Zoe called out “come in!”. Gemma sauntered over. It was Friday night and people were off to the night clubs. Her eyes were smouldering. Zoe had her eyes closed and seemed to be serenely happy. These unis used to be called ‘polytechnics’ and rushed to change their names to ‘University of Townname’ when the rules changed in the 1990s or so. A part of me wanted to rush out and rescue it, recover it, knowing that it was slipping away and Zoe would never ever get it back if I didn’t rush out and get it immediately. Zoe must have seen my distant stare as my mind worked; she must have wondered what I was thinking about. If it had been a The Who or Abba poster I wouldn’t have been surprised at all. Crikey. “Oooh, its a reeeaaall
