Here is the darkened room that looks like the aftermath of something that's gone wrong because someone has followed the instructions too literally. My Granny once told us about a nurse who'd been asked to fetch a warm cup of milk for a patient. Dutifully, she warmed the cup, filled it with cold milk and gave it to the patient. The darkened room was, in some indefinable way, a victim of a similar piece of thinking. You could tell it was so by the way the bed was unmade, the sheets rumpled in the moonlight. The bed was near an open window and a white curtain moved in the breeze. I pulled back the curtain. The sea looked very black with the moon babbling on the surface. A wall ran along the promenade. I could see a man standing there, one foot up on the wall. He was wearing chinos and had carefully sculpted hair. He was looking out to sea, watching, waiting.