"Beginning tonight. Through this. I would like you in my bed, not in the lodge, not in the guest room across the corridor, not on the sofa in the sitting room. In my bed. With me. Until she is in a cell. I want to feel safe.”
"Yes, Vivienne."
"And because I am not going to sleep otherwise."
---
At eleven fourteen that night Leo came into her bedroom and set her shoulder rig on the chair.
Vivienne, on the edge of the bed in a cream silk nightdress that had been in the third drawer for seven years without being worn, looked up at her.
Leo did not speak.
Leo took off her boots, her trousers, her shirt, her earpiece, her belt. She left on the black briefs and a thin black vest. She came to the bed and she sat down on the edge of it next to Vivienne, not on top of her, not beside her asleep, next to her awake, and she put her hand over Vivienne's hand on the linen.
"Hello."
"Hello."
"You read the second batch."
"Yes."
"Three more images."
"Yes."
"Nothing after October."
"Nothing after October."
"Good."
"Leo."
"Yes."
"I am very tired."
"I know."
"I am also."
A pause.
"I am also afraid."
"I know."
"And."
"And."
"I would like you to make love to me."
Leo's hand closed over hers.
"Say that again."