This is from Cynthia's book John, from the section immediately following John and Cynthia's wedding:

Brian treated us all to lunch -- fifteen shillings a head -- then gave us his present. He announced that we couldn't possibly live in my bedsit and that he had a flat he seldom used, which we could live in for as long as we needed it. John looked at him in amazement and I was so excited b his kindness that I threw my arms around him. Never keen on public displays of emotion, een at weddings, he was embarrassed but pleased to have made us so happy. Neither of us had known that he owned a flat. Brian told us he used it from time to time to entertain clients and we didn't question it. In fact, we later realized it was his bolthole. He still lived at home with his parents and needed somewhere to escape to, away from prying eyes, where he could take partners or just enjoy a little privacy. It was typical of his sensitivity and generosity to give it up for us.

[Snip of a few pages.]

Nice as it was, Brian's flat wasn't proving an easy place to live. I felt nervous there when John was away, and neither of us liked having to keep locking and unlocking the doors to the different sides of the apartment. Worse, the area attracted rather a lot of shady characters. One night, just as we were going to bed, there was a knock at the door. When no one from the other flats answered, John went. Two dodgy-looking men were there, asking for Carol. John told them they'd got the wrong house and came back to bed.

A few minutes later we heard the front door open and someone banged violently on our bedroom door. The two men were back and they were shouting, "We know she's in there, you ponce. Hand her over or we'll tear you apart." They thumped so violently that we were xure they'd break the door down. Then they tried to pick the lock. John and I were petrified so I gathered all my energy and shouted, "The only bloody woman in here is me. My name is Cynthia and I'm three months pregnant." Thank God they left...

from Cynthia's book John