“I’m sorry, there was a problem with…” “I don’t care. I said midnight or else,” she cuts across my hurried words. “If you still want...to cum you can come in but there is a price to pay for your tardiness.” She looks at me expectantly and I nod in understanding, my mouth dry, my voice a whisper that I don’t trust. She stands back from the door and I step into her loft. We’re on a landing with stairs leading down into the living space. “Stop there,” she commands and I halt, my breathing as. If I hadn’t been so lost in my own little world of tragedy I might have heard the edge in her voice as she said, ‘Oh well, thanks Paul, I’m pleased you’re so happy for me to be going.’ For about 10 seconds I considered putting in for a move to Glasgow too. But it was a small office then, and even if I wanted to leave London for the frozen north, unlike Jenny I didn’t know a soul there, and she hadn’t actually invited me. In fact, she might think it was distinctly creepy for me to follow her. More

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