Mal woke up on the floor. He opened his eyes and saw a young woman's face peering over the edge of a strange bed, grinning down at him. "You all right down there?" she laughed.

Mal screwed up his eyes trying to recognise her. She had brown hair with a bright red streak dyed into it; brown eyes; one tooth was slightly crooked. Nice cheeks. He threw his hand out to his right to get some bearings, and his fingers fell into the cup of a discarded bra. "Are my pants around here somewhere?" he asked. "It's kinda cold."

"Who needs pants?" the girl asked. "I'm not wearing any." She rolled out of sight. "It's warm in bed" she said.

Mal couldn't really say no to that: he sat up. The room spun a little. Somewhere in the house, on the other side of the bedroom door, someone was playing an Otis Redding record.

"Um . . . I can't remember your name" Mal said sheepishly as he climbed into the bed.

"Don't sweat it, honey" the girl said. "I can't remember yours, either."

"Oh, okay." After a moment, he said: "I'm Mal."

The girl laughed: the bed shook gently with each convulsive giggle. "That's funny" she said. "I'm Al." She rolled over on top of him, one motion, smooth like an assassin. "Well" she shrugged, kissing him while he tried to get a handle on things. "Angela, actually. But people call me Al. 'Cause I can't stand Ange." She kissed him again, and again. "But you can call me whatever you want."

Mal smiled awkwardly: he was distracted by the sensation of Angela's nipples pressing into his chest, of her body meeting his from lips - she kissed him again - to toes.

She stopped kissing him and noticed a mole on his shoulder, as if for the first time: she traced the tip of her index finger, almost imperceptibly, from his shoulder to his chest, down over his stomach, down along the line separating his torso from his leg . . . He grinned in sudden reaction and moved to embrace her - but she suddenly laughed again and rolled away, off him, and out of the bed, landing on her feet, and standing with her back to him. He rolled over onto his side, trying to keep up, and gazed at her standing there full-length next to the bed. She looked over her shoulder, and tilted her head, the corner of her mouth upturned. "Are you hungry?" she asked.