1984

           Theywerebothbreathingfast,butthesmilehadreappearedroundthecornersofhermouth. Shestoodlookingathimforaninstant,thenfeltatthezipperofheroveralls. And,yes! itwasalmostasinhisdream. Almostasswiftlyashehadimaginedit,shehadtornherclothesoff,andwhensheflungthemasideitwaswiththatsamemagnificentgesturebywhichawholecivilizationseemedtobeannihilated. Herbodygleamedwhiteinthesun. Butforamomenthedidnotlookatherbody;hiseyeswereanchoredbythefreckledfacewithitsfaint,boldsmile. Hekneltdownbeforeherandtookherhandsinhis. 

           ‘Haveyoudonethisbefore?’ 

           ‘Ofcourse.Hundredsoftimes—well,scoresoftimes,anyway.’ 

           ‘WithPartymembers?’ 

           ‘Yes,alwayswithPartymembers.’ 

           ‘WithmembersoftheInnerParty?’ 

           ‘Notwiththoseswine,no. Butthere’splentythatWOULDiftheygothalfachance. They’renotsoholyastheymakeout.’ 

           Hisheartleapt. Scoresoftimesshehaddoneit:hewishedithadbeenhundreds—thousands. Anythingthathintedatcorruptionalwaysfilledhimwithawildhope. Whoknew,perhapsthePartywasrottenunderthesurface,itscultofstrenuousnessandself-denialsimplyashamconcealinginiquity. Ifhecouldhaveinfectedthewholelotofthemwithleprosyorsyphilis,howgladlyhewouldhavedoneso! Anythingtorot,toweaken,toundermine! Hepulledherdownsothattheywerekneelingfacetoface.