"Why is someone trying to kill your father?"

Once again I was following her. She led me through the streets, into a tiny winebar.

"Would you like to get a bottle of wine? Do you like red wine? I love red wine."

"Sure."

"I'll grab a bottle of Californian, if you don't mind. I have an uncle that has vineyards up in the Napa Valley and I always try to support him if I can. It's like buying locally for me, if you like."

"Sure."

The bar was about half full, mostly of people who thought their illicit afterwork liaison was going unnoticed in the delicate light. Balding men in badly-aged grey suits sat awkwardly at the small round wooden tables, a knee jutting out in the direction of the woman opposite, who stared tangentially into space. They displayed the tasteless golden trinkets with which they had been adorned in the opening weeks of the affair over forlorn worn-out work clothes. Conversation was spasmodic, usually prompted by someone else entering the bar, perhaps someone from the same office complex, perhaps attempting a similarly futile rendezvous.

Laura brought back a bottle of wine and two glasses to our table. The candle between us accentuated the freckles on her face as she moved her chair to a comfortable position. In the quiet of the first few moments sitting opposite each other the bar seemed to hold its breath.

"So dusty in here. Years of London grime."

"Yes, don't you love that! A real genuine place."

"Shall I pour?"

"Yes, go on!"

She lifted the glass to her lips, but kept her eyes on me as she tipped it. The lambent flame danced in her eyes, bringing out a mischievous edge that perhaps had been in them earlier, that I probably hadn't noticed. She narrowed them slightly, as if to emphasise the wayward element that had been added to her expression.

"Lovely!" She put the glass back down but continued her gaze. A pursed smile appeared on her lips, then she burst into that defiant laugh again.

"Can you tell me why you acted so strange back there."

She stuck the tip of her tongue out momentarily, and then picked up her wine and finished the glass.

"What about the explanation? That's why you asked me here. That's why I followed you here."

"I know."

"Well, now you can tell me."

"Maybe." She picked up the bottle and poured herself a refill. The wine stopped just short of the brim. She put the bottle back on the table between us. I had drunk very little from my glass.

"Why run out of the gallery after getting so excited about all those photos? You said it was something to do with your father. Is he ill?"

"No. He's just mad. He's in danger from some of the lunatics that he hangs around with. You know these college professors, they're all a little bit weird."

"Why is he in danger?"

"Let's talk about going to America instead. We'll go together. How about that?"

"You were shouting because your dad's just a bit weird? You realise how noisy the world would be if everyone did that?"

"It's a long story. Well, so stupid it needs a lot of explaining. It's hardly a story."

Another couple came down the narrow staircase into the bar. There was a ripple of whispers amongst the adulterers. The new couple took a wine list from the barman and sat down quite near to Laura and me. Laura used this as an excuse to move her head in closer, pushing the bottle holding the candle to one side of the table.

"There are people trying to kill my father. There are people that wouldn't think twice about taking me hostage to exact revenge on my father. Everyone thinks the academic world is all about books and beards. They'd be wrong. There is a lot of money involved, and when money is involved people don't smile so much, they don't forgive when reputations are questioned, they don't think a written apology is the end of the matter."

I looked over at the new couple. The man had ordered, opened the bottle and finished a glass. He was caressing the female's leg and supplementing dishonest words with persuasive gestures. The rest of the bar seemed engrossed in the performance. I drank the rest of my glass of wine.

"Why is someone trying to kill your father?"