Mark held his mother's face in his hands as he looked through her glasses into her squinted eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, spittle collecting in the c...rners of her mouth.Mark placed a few strands of brown hair behind her ears and locked his lips onto and around the full, wet lips of his mother. He felt her hot breath rush into his mouth, and their tongues started playing. As his mother's glasses got caught between their faces, their mouths devoured each other, their tongue wrestling savagely. “You need to read this. As you’ll see, it is not from me.”Dazed, Jack glanced at the envelope and saw it addressed to Mr Jack Wetherley, Brandling Estate, and at the top was a royal crest. “Come on, man. Open it,” Lord Duckham urged. “My coach is waiting.”The envelope wasn’t sealed, and with trembling fingers, Jack extracted the scented sheet inside it. Opening it, he began to read it silently, ‘To Mr Jack Wetherley. You are expected to attend St James’ Palace—‘ Jack’s legs began to shake.“Out. More

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