We drank gin, mostly, as we chattered about Beowulf or the language of Clockwork Orange, though as a party piece Jane could lock her gullet like a swo...d-swallower and pour a pint of beer down in one. It made her burp, of course. Down in the subterranean coffee bar there were chess boards, and we toyed with the pieces. For example, playing through Murphy’s game with Mr Endon – I introduced Jane to Sam Beckett’s work, while she got me started on Flann O’Brien. A metafictional Roland for my. A moment passed. And another. She cracked her eyes open and the beast was inches away from her face. She let out a startled cry and fell backwards, moving away until she hit the trunk of a tree with her back. The wolf hadn’t moved from its position in the air, and her gaze was mixed with terror and confusion. ‘Lesson one.’ The voice behind her snapped her out of her daze and she swung her head to where the voice came from. A young man around her age stood next to the tree she was against,. More

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