http://www.timesonline.co.uk/printFriendly/0,,1-525-2320105-525,00.html
Remarkably honest and straightforward (feelingless?) autobiographical account of Robert Hughes’s first marriage. “We met at a drinks party in Notting Hill. ‘Do you want to meet the best fuck in London?’ the host delicately inquired. And he pointed to a sofa, on which sat a tall, rangy, square-jawed blonde holding a glass of warm vodka. We were introduced. Things began to click, small cogs and then larger ones to engage.”