“I love you. I love you,” she said in a quivering, passionate voice.I didn’t know what to think or say. How could she love me? She was a whore g...tting me to spend money, and we got drunk and had wild passionate sex, but I also knew we bonded in a way that is rare, that it was more than fucking, and I could see through her efforts to seduce me, her sweet innocence and her desire to be more than an olive farmer’s daughter. She was an artist and ambitious to break out of the poverty and hard work. Even so she was determined that Lionel should feel that she was in charge and that what he did was subject to her approval and sanction.On this occasion she need not have worried. Once she started looking, she soon found things to find fault with. “Why have you stacked the saucers with the plates rather than the cups? No, don’t interrupt me. Let’s see what else you’ve been cutting corners on ... Look at this, you haven’t cleaned behind the taps on the sink, and you’ve left the washing cloth. More

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