He turned the book to show me the cover. The Wisdom of Whores, it was called. I must have looked shocked. ‘It’s not what you think,’ he said. Long pause. ‘Are you enjoying it?’ I asked. ‘It’s actually very good.’ Phew. I confessed to having written it. He stared at me, looked at the author photo, looked at me again. It was hard to say which of us was the more surprised.
