'Oh, the accounts would be fairly straightforward. Anyway, for me being open with people is one of the essentials of doing business. If someone doesn't like gays, I'd prefer to look elsewhere for advice or custom.'
'Is everyone who works for you gay?'
'Yes. There's nothing like being with your own kind, is there? How is it in your high pressure City job? Everyone gay-friendly and open minded?'
'The subject is never mentioned. Not by me, not by anyone. They see a thirty-ish single man, no girlfriend... They're a sharp bunch, they'll have drawn their own conclusions.'
'You must know some of them reasonably well... not to confide in anyone at all... But everyone compartmentalises their lives to an extent: work, home, love life, social activities... And a good thing that we do, problems in one compartment need not prevent us enjoying ourselves in the others.'
However mildly put, this was clearly a rebuke for not having come out at work. Despite all his questions in the Beckford Arms he knew little of my circumstances and the criticism irritated me. 'Why should I feel obliged to tell people I work with about my sex life? My being gay doesn't affect them. They should judge me on the work I do.'
'Can't argue with you there, but gay men working in a "straight" environment are like sun- loving plants struggling to survive in the deep shade of trees, we can never develop properly and reach our true potential. Wouldn't you be happier with a firm where you could be more... straightforward with your colleagues?'
'Without a reliable crystal ball that sort of question is unanswerable. How can anyone know for certain they will be happier in a different job? Will you get on with your new boss? Will the work be interesting? Will you have good career prospects? They're the things that count, and you can only really find the answers after you've moved. Lindler & Haliburton is a very traditional stuffy kind of firm. My moving on won't make them any more gay friendly, but if I'm a success there, in time, who knows?'
'You're right, all of those things are important. Let's move on.'
From the ground floor we groped our way down to the musty basement, where the smell suggested a severe damp problem. We had already seen the main rooms of the house, and not wanting to linger there I said there was more to smell than there was to see and returned to the stairs.
He followed me up, but in the hall hurried past me and continued up towards the first floor, preventing me from saying that I had had enough of the place and wanted to go. By the time we reached the landing he was badly out of breath and very red in the face. He fumbled with the keys until he found the one to the door of the first floor flat, where he opened a casement window out onto a balcony at the side of the house. We sat on the balustrade looking out at the street, enjoying the fresh air and allowing him time to recover.