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The light from the street lamps shone on the dark puddles on the damp pavement. A fine drizzle continued to fall, dampening Martin's spectacles as he strode along the forbidding streets. It wasn't really the night for a stroll. And this wasn't a part of town where a man would be wandering for the sights or the restful ambience. But Martin was a man on a mission. And this was the best part of town to be.

He wasn't alone. Resting by lamp posts, or in the doorways of shuttered shops, or in the shadow of hedges, could be seen the occasional silhouette of women, dressed provocatively, frequently smoking, and eyeing him with rather less reserve than that which he eyed them. Martin shivered. Did he have to? he wondered. But then, of course, why else would anyone choose to come out to this part of town?

In the nearly fifty years of his life, the usual pleasures of marriage or children had somehow eluded him. He had tried. God! He'd tried! But it just hadn't been his destiny. Women just didn't take to him somehow. And the chances were getting fewer, as his hair thinned, his paunch grew larger and his future shrank ahead of him. And it wasn't just romance that had eluded him. In everything he did, he knew that he had under-achieved. He wasn't one of life's winners. He'd never got the promotions he'd wanted. At least not until so late it was a recognition of his seniority and patience than any native ability. Time and time again, he'd seen younger men leapfrog ahead of him. For them advancement, romance, marriage and respect just came naturally. ...

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