I slide back into my
borrowed bed, knowing sleep may be an elusive fantasy not again realized until many, many hours from now.
The results, classified by genre: romance for Leo and Brendan; burlesque for the disrupted men's group; farce for Leo's enchantingly flaming roommate (Tom Hollander), who has sex only in hastily
borrowed beds; parody for Leo in his dreams (after he calms himself by reading Jane Austen at bedtime); and a touch of melodrama for the woman (Jennifer Ehle) who'd spent eight years living with Brendan.
He stayed with me, and I found myself extremely edgy throughout the visit, although he was politely unobtrusive, indifferently enduring my two noisy daughters and two nights in one of their tiny
borrowed beds. He spent one morning shaking his head in dismay over one of the books he found on my shelves (After Poststructuralism: Interdisciplinarity and Literary Theory) and took long walks during which in a day and a half he managed to learn more about my neighborhood than I had in three years.