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" I hadn't heard of it but then I'm like a lot of taxi drivers — I hardly ever go south of the river.When I got there, I realised I'd been missing something. It billed itself as a boutique hotel. Not far from Tate Modern and the Globe Theatre, it was a short walk from Borough Market and the City itself.I got to the sixth floor and the restaurant. Daphne was already there. As I walked in she was chewing on a mouthful of food that had her face stuffed as well as the gags that we use in the Prep Centre. She barely paused in her eating and waved me across to join her. The remains of a rump steak, half a pile of chips, a smear of pepper sauce and an untouched portion of vegetables decorated the plate in front of her. A dribble of sauce was running down her chin. She wiped it as she swallowed the mouthful of food. I thought it wasn't a great menu choice. From what I remembered of her backside, the last thing she needed was more rump."Larry," she said holding out a limp hand, "nice to see. I was just surprised.”“You’re almost never home, and so I never get to see you,” she said softly.“You can see me now,” I replied.She choked a bit on the Coke she was drinking, and a bit of Coke dribbled down her chin. I grabbed a napkin from a holder on the table next to me and dabbed it for her.“Thank you,” she whispered.I smiled, wadded up the napkin, and correctly guessed that the trash can was under the sink, a guess that would be right more often than not in just about any kitchen in America. We both finished our drinks and Summer rinsed the glasses and put them in the sink.“Do you want to stay?” she asked softly. “I could play more, or...”I waited, wondering if she’d complete the thought, but also wondering what I would do if she did. There was a giant, insurmountable problem of which she probably wasn’t aware, and her personality, behavior, and bashfulness gave me serious pause about whether she’d have even considered an STD test. There hadn’t been a time to raise the issue,.
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