My Tuesday night problems were very much eased when Laura Dunne persuaded her boyfriend to attend and drive the sisters home, while Sammy Quick still made herself unavailable, without offering a reason this time. I began to suspect there might have been something about it all that I didn’t know. Now the expedition first went to Forest Hill to meet Janie’s ongoing demands, then Templestowe to dispose of Cherie, then a long detour across the north of the city to Avondale Heights to get Paula Latham home and that left me alone in the car with big Eva Neuwenhausen. Stop here, she said, outside the park near her home, and pounced.
   I fought back bravely but she was too big and strong for me and I was locked in an embrace from which there seemed no escape. We kissed with great length and passion while I writhed to get free, and then, just when my hands finally found her breasts, she was gone. Fled from the car. What had I done? Maybe I had bad breath. Certainly I felt ravaged. The question was, did I enjoy it?

Cat Ballou was a fairly amusing Western send-up and a vehicle for Henry Fonda’s naughty little girl Jane as a mythical lady outlaw, but she got up-staged left, right and centre. First there was Nat King Cole and Stubby Kaye wandering through the plot singing the title ballad, and then there was Dwayne Hickman’s wicked priest, but most of all Lee Marvin as the sozzled gunslinger, for which one of cinema’s great battlers won a best actor award. Even Marvin agreed that the horse should have got a share of the credit.