

OUR URBAN

Utopia

# Our Urban Utopia

By Cassandra DeBrown

Copyright Cassandra DeBrown 2012

Published by Divine Delo books,

Republished 2015

A part of Five for Five Entertainment Reads

At Smashwords.

The right of Cassandra DeBrown to be acknowledged as the author of this work has been established in accordance with the UK copyright laws. All rights reserved.

Cover Art courtesy Topsy 'Delo

Cover Image courtesy Ottokalman@istockphoto.com

Smashwords License Statement

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

#  DEDICATION

"Human Life is incomplete,

If the human mind cannot conceive,

An unattainable, an impossible dream

That spurs man to reach for more."

This one is dedicated to my family and friends who have over the years read everything I've written, willingly or under duress and have encouraged me to go on writing. I couldn't have done this without you all.

Friends and family, yes, that means you too dear.

Much love people, much love

Cassandra
  1. # UNKNOWN SUBJECT – MALE

The night is young. The skies have darkened early as is normal for this time of the year. I'm sitting idly by the bar in the restaurant where I usually eat my lunch. The food is mediocre at best but it's affordable so I tolerate it on most days. Today, I find myself picking at my food and this irritates me. There was little point of my coming all the way down here if I wasn't even going to eat anything. The surrounding walls seem to be closing in on me slowly from the peripheral edges of my vision. I ignore the unsettling sensation. I am not worried about my claustrophobia at the minute. No, I have other things on my mind. The crux of the matter is that I am bored.

Life has been decidedly dull in the past few months and I am at a loss as to how best to relieve myself of this sense of terminal ennui. My mind is mulling this over yet no solutions readily present themselves. As I look out of the large glass window, my eyes settle upon a young man of indeterminate age approaching my picture frame view of the world, strutting along on the pavement outside. I can feel my lips curl in a derisive sneer when I take in his posturing swagger.

Gliding smoothly down the street in his jeans, sneakers and jacket, I can tell he thinks he is the Man. That he is all that. That the world is his oyster. He couldn't be more wrong. He is not an asset to civilisation; he is an unsightly blight on the landscape of life.

To my eyes, this young man is just a symptom of the global malaise that has spread across the world today. Technological advancement has led to the gradual erosion of our natural abilities. The discernment and interaction required to survive in the prehistoric ages has been lost forever and something deep within me weeps at this loss.

My gaze returns to the youth in question. He has no clue that I have been watching him advance; he is totally oblivious to my malicious scowl. Indeed he is oblivious of the world around him. Entranced with the music in his ears, he does not realise that his sense of hearing is one of the most important ones he has and that obscuring it with meaningless lyrics and inane melodies simply makes him a more vulnerable target. He is barely worth the time I have taken to analyse him (fifty seconds, precisely) and I soon turn my thoughts inwards again. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see him walk past. The young, ignorant fool. Was I ever that young, that obtuse or that blind? I sincerely doubt it!

I know that I am a hunter by nature, a predator by design and I love to exercise my skills regularly. Unfortunately, I cannot and will not bestir myself to hunt unworthy prey.

Nope.

Waste is sinful and I will not demean myself unless the prize is worthy of the hunt. Finding such a prize is what has kept me idly waiting while time passes by. But I am running out of time and I can tell. The dogs of frustration are nipping at my heels and it grows worse with every passing day. I try to keep my baser nature in check but deep within me the beast is roaring with anger. With hatred. With hunger. I can feel him running out of patience.

I hunger for blood.

For violence and death.

For an increase in the ratio between fit and unfit.

And I will have it.

Truthfully, I can admit that it is futile to try and resist my nature. I have learnt that simple things can trigger the beast inside and it is better to plan and feed his hungers (and mine) than to pick random and unfulfilling morsels similar to the junk food that on normal days I would consume in a lunch hour rush. They satiate temporarily but then sit uncomfortably in my gut for hours after and never really banish the depths of my hunger. I am more in the mood for something I can savour like a gourmet meal. Like a fine five star dining experience with coffee and apéritifs.

I let my gaze wander as my mind plots and plans. As I scan random strangers I wonder how many of the drones rushing to grab a bite at the end of their working day are prey and hunt for signs that some may be exterminators like me; self-appointed regulators of the population explosion that is threatening the earth. Natural selection is a facet of everyday existence and I am just helping nature cull out the surplus.

I pitch my Styrofoam mug into the rectangular swing bin along with my mostly uneaten meal and prepare to leave. I need to find something to soothe the beast soon or he will sate himself in unimaginable ways and I know it will not be pretty.
  2. # NANCY

It was snowing lightly and had been for hours. The whole landscape was encased in a shiny white film, with snowflakes falling softly like little drops of candy from the heavens. Mercifully, it was no longer as cold as it had been in the previous weeks although there was still a bit of a nip in the air. The weather forecasters were making the usual predictions of warmer weather around the corner but it was hard to believe them when I could see the winter wonderland that surrounded the city.

Bundled up in the best of my winter woollies, I trudged on slowly up the hill as I walked into town. It really wasn't walking weather but having been cooped up in that house for two long days I was sure that one more day of forced inactivity would surely drive me insane.

It wasn't so much that I needed the exercise although that was a definite bonus, but I needed some time to think as well. I wasn't one for jogging or running about like I had a stick up my butt but walking had always had a soothing and calming effect on my nerves and that was key to me keeping my sanity. My walks afforded me the opportunity to stretch my legs, get some air into my lungs and head and sort out issues that were bugging me. And catch up on all the best hits playing on my favourite FM station at the same time. That was actually the main thing that I loved the most about walking - the twenty to thirty minute hikes I took through town helped me to ventilate both my body and my mind and I often came back home refreshed, with a well thought out strategy for tackling whatever tasks I had ahead of me for the coming weeks.

As I tightened my scarf around my neck, I reflected on the fact that Stephen, my partner, had been housebound as well over the past week. While we'd discussed his work problems often enough during the time we'd spent together, he had shown no interest in the jobsites and agencies that I'd found for him. Surely it was in both our interests if he found another job before telling his boss where he could stick his job and all the hassles that came with it. Especially in this economic climate. I wasn't sure the poor but proud look was ever going to return as a major UK fashion trend but I was damn sure it wasn't a look I wanted either of us to be rocking any time soon. Stephen really needed to get his act together and soon.

I shook my head.

That was the problem with men, they never listened.

As my Nan used to say, it was always easier to entice a man into doing something you needed than to prod him or lead him in the way that you felt he should go. A smart woman had to make her man believe that whatever was to be done was all his idea in the first place and Nan had been nobody's fool. I smiled wryly as I remembered the cunning way that my grandmother had of getting Gramps to do stuff that no one else could, and she'd make the grumpy old man think it was the best thing since sliced bread too. Ah, Nan. I missed the fiery old bird, I really did.

I was trying to apply the same skills with Stephen but I was nowhere near Nan's level of expertise. I had simply been filling out applications on his behalf without him even knowing about it, refreshing and sexing up his CV, registering him with jobsites. After all I had a little bit of time on my hands now that I was on leave and if the recruiters didn't shortlist him for an interview, I'd never tell him, it was that simple. No need for any unnecessary fuss.

If they did call in and the job was good, he'd simply think they had heard of his expertise from one of the many clients he'd dealt with in the past. He was that arrogant I knew, but with regards to his work I also knew that he had rightful cause to be. He was very clever and all his colleagues always spoke highly of him. It was just damn bad luck that he'd been passed over for a promotion and was now stuck with this pin-headed lump for a boss. It had changed him. What could go wrong, I wondered as I wandered past the town's central park. It was a genuine win-win situation.

I was trying to remain optimistic but I knew that the negative energy from his job would soon start spilling over into our domestic life and I was not sure how long I could keep up with that if and when it happened. I loved Stephen, I really did, but I didn't deceive myself into thinking that I was in love with him, because I simply wasn't. There was a lot of deep seated affection and passion between us but none of the torrid feelings and emotional whirlwinds of the romantic kind. I'd had that when I was much younger and frankly could say I did not miss it. I didn't like being unsettled and Stephen was very predictable, safe, and normal. I could count on him to be his usual laid back self and I could be my own placid homebody and all could be well. At least I had someone to talk to when I got home every night.

I was nearing the town centre, having made surprisingly brisk time in spite of the inclement weather. It would be interesting to see if I could beat my personal best time of twenty minutes flat. Hah. Beat that Buzz. Or Bolt. Or whatever the abnormally fast guy's name was. Who cared?

I went in to the Café du Plaza, our neighbourhood's answer to the swanky watering holes of Paris and sat down to wait. My friends and partners should be joining me soon and I was hoping that today we would cover a lot of ground in the planning for our next few weeks. We had a lot to talk about and I found myself anxious to begin. I ordered a scone and a cup of tea and sat down with my laptop to wait. I powered up my little darling and began to tap away. One of the wonders of modern living to my mind was the ease with which we could lug our communication devices about. We had come a long way from the age of talking drums, that much was clear. My notebook was a nifty little device but it packed a hell of a punch and made my life a whole lot easier. I loved it to bits.

In addition to my part time job as a Human Resources Manager, I was making a living spilling out penny ante books for sale online. I had always known that one day I would want to write my own books. I love to read, some people even went so far as to say that is what I do best. Fiction in any genre, encyclopaedias, classic literature, textbooks, I'd read anything. In fact I had been known to read the phone book recreationally when unable to source new reading material. It was that bad. Or that good, depending on which way you looked at it. It definitely increased my knowledge base alright. The only reason I knew the Bible so well was not because I was particularly religious but because it was full of the most wonderful stories. As a child I'd devoured tales of good triumphing over evil, of knights and villains, of damsels fair and in distress and of castles in the air.

With my vivid imagination I had a million thoughts about how I would go about creating my book; the settings, the characters, the texture and feel of the marvellous stories I would write.

Of course, I wasn't planning on writing any boring or stuffy tomes. Hell no! When I put pen to paper I was going to produce works that were more gripping than Grisham, more scintillating than Sheldon and of course more captivating than Coulter. One read of my books and people would be asking, "Dan who?"

Ha ha. Dream on Nancy, Dream on.

Yep. Translating my dreams into reality was not as easy as I thought it would be. The main problem with my dreams of literary grandeur was the ever present dilemma of time, or the lack of time to be precise. Where in God's precious universe was I ever going to find the time to write my bestseller? I mean how in the world was I supposed to write at least three thousand words a day? So I kept putting it off.

Since growing up, I kinda felt as if the time would never be right for me to pursue this dream. I was stuck in a time demanding, dead end job with little or no prospects. I wasn't getting younger and one day I just decided, "That's it, today is the day I start my bestseller." It came as a rude shock to discover that having ideas and great plot lines did not translate easily into massive book ready for publication. I was torn. On the one hand I wanted to write the masterpiece, the one that was going to put me on the map as a serious writer; on the other hand, I was tempted by the lure of more income now for a less magnificent body of work. I ended up making a compromise that suited me well. I continued with my day job, kept up my activities with my friends and wrote about our exploits every free minute I had. Thus, the ever-present and dependable laptop. Some days it seemed as if it was literally an extension of my mind and body. I never went anywhere without it.

My tea was getting cold and the ladies were not yet here. I didn't mind though. I thought about getting another cuppa but felt it would be prudent to wait till they came in before I topped up, so we could all order together. I scrunched up my forehead trying to remember if it was my turn to pick up the tab. I didn't remember and couldn't really care less. All I knew was we would meet, we would eat, and the tab would be sorted. We had enough in our collective pot of funds to cover a lunch meeting for Christ's sake.
  3. # MAKAYLA

This is the worst time of my life and it is still better than some people will ever have it. That is a Fact.

The world around me has always managed to give the impression of being a wonderful but scary place and I am well accustomed to the vagaries of life. Lately however, I find that I have been limiting my interaction with it to the necessary and unavoidable. My social excursions comprise of a very short cycle of Work, Home and Shopping with the occasional foray into church, tourist attractions or the cinema. I fear that I am fast turning into a recluse.

I love going to the movies but sometimes it seems as if the other clowns who come to the cinema just come along to piss everyone else off with their inappropriate comments and disgusting farts. Seriously, the one thing missing from modern life is a fart detector that lights up the air around the gas-emitter and bleeps 'he dealt it, he dealt it, try not to smell it'.

My lips quirked up at the thought.

It would be a charm, I swear.

But might be a bit self-defeating if it keeps going off every three minutes during the movie as it is likely to. There is something about young people that just makes them fart when they are in a crowd. Or pee in the swimming pool like the yellow stream and the sudden stillness with the concentrated facial expression isn't enough of a giveaway. Just for the fun of it. It's almost as if they are silently daring each other to see which of them can be more disgusting. What the fuck man!

And then the fidgety kid across the aisle who just makes you want to smack him. Nah. I'd rather save a couple of pounds, save myself the agro and just watch whatever movie I want to online or on my Sky player.

Ok, so maybe I am not exactly in the first flush of youth but hey, at least all my organs are working fairly well and I can get myself from point A to point B without shitting myself or drooling. All the joints are still in working order and the few times I see myself full frontal, I can assure myself that no one will run screaming at the sight of me. Seems a comfortable place to be. No hearing aids, no Zimmer frame and no diaper.

Please God, if you can hear me, kill me before that happens ok.

I wouldn't mind a long life but the trade-off has never struck me as particularly fair. I mean what's the use of living till I'm a hundred and four if I'm going to have to gnaw on pureed pizza or spag bol for dinner.

No offense, but I think I'll pass.

The thought has always made me cringe.

I cast my mind over my life in an attempt to ascertain where my sense of dissatisfaction is coming from but try as I might I can't seem to put my finger on it. I never go to sleep hungry unless I choose to, which varies depending on my mood. I eat a lot but I stay within roughly the same weight class, give or take 2 kg. I wouldn't call myself an anorexic but I do have definite food fads and I can be a bit lazy in the kitchen. I'd rather sleep than eat frankly so that explains that, I guess. Most weeks I'm on a liquid diet. Not booze, simply tea, coffee (a latte or cappuccino will do me fine if I can get it), cola drinks, orange and clementine juice. Honestly, I am seriously addicted to the stuff. I spend a mini fortune on drinks each week but then that suits me to a tee.

Everyone needs at least one vice to spice up their lives, right?

I have family around me. Frankly, sometimes it seems as if my siblings and I have some weird form of asexual incest going on. We get all caught up in each other's lives and sometimes it gets very smothering. But their hearts are in the right place though. Being the baby of the family hasn't really helped issues. Add in the combo of having no nuclear family of my own and their attentions are enough to make me feel like tearing out my hair on most days of the week.

In addition to this, I have a very colourful extended family as well. From evil aunts to spells like on Charmed, from adopted kids to disowned ones, marriages, divorces, affairs on the side, feuds, romances, wills and probates and the occasional reprobate, we have quite a clan believe me. If I could get Gough and Miller to spend a year filming us, they would never have to make another episode of Smallville. No more sloppy reruns on cable TV.

God, where can I get a reality TV contract? I'd be rolling in dough by now.

Anyway, having six married sisters and four married big brothers is not easy for an independent single lady of a certain age. It can get a little weird. Even my subconscious shies away from recalling the latest antics of my numerous in-laws. Thankfully both my parents are six feet under and have been for some time now. Having done their bit to increase the world population (eleven kids, way to go folks, guess contraception wasn't the in-thing back then, was it?), they laid down their earthly burdens within a couple of years of each other. Don't get me wrong, I miss the Old Folk as we've always affectionately referred to them at home but it's really best for me that they've passed on. I cringed internally when I thought about what they'd think of me now. But that was a thought for another time, much later if I was to my way and I ruthlessly pushed it aside.

I'd been lying here in my bed for a while now, trying to coax myself into believing that the day's activities were worth my getting out of bed. I'd been counting my blessings to remind myself that while I might feel frustrated and sick to death of my life, there were people out there who would give their all their teeth and a couple of limbs to be in my position.

Well, I'd probably sacrifice a few teeth to get out of my life but that's just basic human nature.

The grass is always greener and all that.

My thoughts rumbled on in a disjointed fashion as I lay there. It struck me anew that life is all about comparative need. Like how I was totally fine with my 36 inch TV until my big sis (#7) bought a 42 inch one and had it wall-mounted. Now I want a bigger TV and my 36 inch one has become a symbol of my lower earning power and the general sucky-ness of my life. It's the little things that do a girl in.

"So what's filling me up with an impending sense of doom?" I asked myself with a twinge of irritation.

"Makayla, it's no good asking me silly questions," I grumbled in reply, turning over onto my back. One thing was sure: talking to myself wasn't going to help, either. I sighed despondently. If I knew what the problem was, I'd be half way to solving the mess.

My alarm clock started to belt out its jarring jingle, signifying that the new day was progressing with or without my participation and I had lounged in bed long enough. I reached out and checked the flip-over calendar that I kept next to my clock. I groaned. Yep. I still had three more blissful days of PMS to get through. No worries though. I had the management of my hormonal states whittled down to a fine art form. I would get through this just like I always did.

Still groggy, and in a fundamentally foul mood, I made my way to my medicine cabinet and got out my selection of B vitamins and pain relievers, laxatives and contraceptive pills. I continued down the stairs, turned up the heating and downed them with a glass of orange juice while I listened to the day's headlines on BBC News. Nothing new today, just the same droning on about the economy, immigration and the usual smattering of celebrity shenanigans. I turned off the telly, finished my cereal and went upstairs to get ready for another day in the life of Makayla.

Things can only get better.

I'd leave the rest of my self-exploration till later.

I let the bath fill and smirked silently as I imagined the horror of the eco-conservationists in the family if they discovered that I'd had a bath in the morning instead of a shower "gasp" and I fully intended to soak in the tub again when I got back. For all I cared they could form a collective and sue me. I had learned to take my creature comforts where I could find them and it worked for me. Besides I wasn't going into work grouchy this morning or it would be a sad day indeed at the agency.

The best bit about working at the recruitment agency is that I can do pretty much what I need to when I need to. The hours are regular and the money's alright as well. The only snag is that I'm not quite fulfilled at work because deep down inside me I know that there was something else I was meant to do with my little life. I just haven't figured out what it was yet.

Settling into my warm tub of soapy water, scented with a refreshing tropical brew, I settled back and let the warm water soothe me. As I washed my legs with my soft sponge, I reflected on the odd feeling I get sometimes that I am spending my days living the wrong life. On some days it seems that my real life is a movie and the movies are the boring, stable existence that is normal. At least most of the soaps and films on telly have predictable plot lines. If it was an action movie you pretty much knew from the start that the hero would save the girl and kill the bad guys.

Many a time it seemed that the cosmos had dropped me feet first into my own personal soap opera but without a script so I just have to keep winging it and improvising as I go along. I keep waiting for the directors to yell, "Cut... and print!" For them to let me take a break from my existence, but of course that never happens.

Towelling myself off as I stepped dripping from the tub, I congratulated myself on the fact that despite the influence of my mainly dysfunctional family and my weird upbringing, I managed to grow up to be a fairly well-rounded and grounded young lady.

If you discount the mood swings, the obsessive - compulsive disorders, the dyslexia and mild acalculia.

Who needed numbers anyway?

Unless they were on my credit card...

Which brought my thoughts neatly back to my job. I was almost ready now, just had to pack up my bag and get my scarf and gloves ready. I snuck a quick peep at my clock while sorting out my accessories. Yep, I'd get to work in plenty of time. It wasn't like I was trying to win the employee of the year award or anything but the mantra 'What is worth doing is worth doing well' is deeply ingrained in my psyche. Since I am a person of some conscience and a workaholic to boot (must be because I'm a Scorpio) I derive pleasure from doing my job and maintaining a high standard of work as well.

"Bravo, Makayla," I snorted as I let myself out of the house, "That's right. Be proud that you are one of those people, you know, obsessive - compulsive especially at work, the type of girl every guy wants on their project team but very few want to date."

Yep, that was me alright.

Story of my life.

As I made my way off to face another day of drudgery at work, I consoled myself with the knowledge that I'd have ample time to feed my numerous compulsions later when I met up with my friends.
  4. # ROBIN

The sun was just crossing the horizon when I woke slowly, alone in my bed, every muscle in my body humming, my blood throbbing in my veins. I stretched lazily and smiled contentedly to myself. I'd just had a starring role in one of the most intriguing triple X rated dreams I'd had in a long time. I truly was not sure if some of the positions I'd just been in courtesy of my subconscious were even anatomically feasible. My nipples were tingling and I felt like I'd been well and truly loved all night long.

Then I frowned, my sense of contentment vanishing like a snowflake left out in strong sunshine. It was all very well to have hot dreams especially when you'd been having a long dry spell in the bedroom like I've been but that was beside the point. It wasn't the dream or the explicit nature of it that was the problem. No, the main problem was that it had also starred one of my old lovers.

I was so pissed at myself. When was I going to let it go, when was I going to finally get over my obsession with the one that got away? No matter how well I convinced myself and all the people around me when I was well and truly over the two-timing, no good bastard, ever so often my subconscious still managed to play tricks like this on me.

It also showed in the choice of dates I had gone on in the years we'd been apart. I found myself looking for parts of him in the guys I met. His smile, his turn of phrase, his dick. Oh yeah. That guy had been very well-endowed and as an added bonus, he sure as hell knew what to do it with. Size truly doesn't matter unless you know what to do with it.

And Sam...

No, I wasn't even going to think his name.

We'd broken up more than ten years ago, yet my dreams of him remained as vivid as any of the encounters we'd ever had as a couple. In fact, if truth be told, many of my dreams were a bit more intense than some of our sessions together. Sometimes it seemed as if my subconscious was detailing a natural progression to the relationship that might have occurred if we had stayed together.

"This has got to stop," I muttered under my breath, frustrated and angry with myself. What was the use of pinning over a guy who honestly didn't have a minute's time for me? I doubted he'd spared me a single thought in the past decade. He'd probably go "Robin who?" if any one asked him about me. Life had moved on for both of us, we were definitely no longer the kids we used to be. I'd dated a couple of guys over the years; he'd bedded a few dozens of girls each year, of that I was bloody sure. Sam never was one to keep it in his pants. We'd grown up and I, more than anyone, knew that fairy tales and happily ever afters were just that. Tales, and mighty tall ones at that.

But more than the sex and the companionship, I knew in my heart that what I missed the most about he that will not be named was the way I felt when I was with him. His optimism was contagious and he always had one project or scheme or the other up his sleeve. I found that I was a different person around him. More approachable, more outgoing and definitely more sexy. He brought out the best in me.

I glanced over at my bedside clock and yelped in dismay.

"Fuck!"

While I'd been here mooning around in the sheets, the day had started in earnest. It was already 8.50am. I had to be in to work at 9am and it took me more than twenty minutes to get there not including prep time. I sprang out of bed and promptly stubbed my toe on my bed post, which made me hop around like an energiser bunny for a couple of seconds as my brain exploded with pain.

Damn, that fucking hurt.

I scrabbled for my towel and shower cap as I turned on the shower, praying that the hot water would kick in and melt down some of the cobwebs in my head. No such luck. It seemed Bill and Jenna, the couple upstairs, had been indulging in their early morning make out sessions again.

I had no business being worried about anybody else's sex life, I really didn't, but the walls were paper thin in our apartment flat. I mean seriously, I could even hear Bill's grunting when he was taking a dump. Grossed me out every single time, I swear. I compensated by playing my music loud enough to cover the sounds as often as I could. This helped but it was more than likely that it was their early morning boinking soundtrack that had triggered my dreams this morning. Worse, they had probably ended up in the shower again because all the hot water was gone and I was left to make the most of it with a lukewarm trickle. This was already shaping up to be a great day.

Well, no need to hang about.

Even though I was already late enough, there was simply no way that I was leaving home without some caffeine in my system.

I moved through the flat at turbo speed, seriously, Wonder Woman had nothing on my moves as I plugged the kettle, and dropped a muffin in the toaster then dashed back to the room to yank on my trousers and stuff my feet into my basic black pumps. I brushed out my hair and tossed my make-up bag into my handbag, buttoning my shirt as I poured the hot water into my travel mug. Breakfast and make-up on the go, what else was new?

I just hoped I could sneak into work before Jeannette, my Line Manager noticed I wasn't already in my cubicle, clacking away like a good little admin officer or else I'd be in a lot of trouble. The frumpy old grouch had an ill-concealed dislike of me and I didn't know why. Well, I guess I did know why but I couldn't help it. We had a fundamental difference of opinion about basic genetics and some other stuff.

I'd been born with my pale skin and red hair and my guileless baby blues.

She thought that I got where I was in life by trading on my looks.

I thought she seriously needed to go fuck herself.

One could say that we had agreed to disagree but only if one was optimistic. I doubted we could agree on anything.

I passed Bill on the steps as I rushed out of our building. "You freaky Nutjob," I called out affectionately. "You guys used up all the hot water again. You owe me."

"Told you that you were welcome to join in, any day, anytime, kiddo. The Missus won't mind, I told you she has a thing for redheads," Bill replied with a naughty wink and a smile as he walked towards the parking garage, referring to the repeated invites I'd had to make their freaky twosome into a fantastic threesome.

"One of these days, I will take you both up on that invite, show you two a trick or two," I laughed as I set off for the day.

The sad bit was that he didn't know that I was only half joking. It just might put the Sam dreams on hold for a while.

****

I couldn't wait till lunch time. It would be the highlight of my day because it had been a doozy so far. Despite my fondest hopes, I could not sneak in to work without that she-dragon sniffing out that I had just come in at a quarter to ten. Big deal! So I was late. I told her my alarm hadn't gone off but she didn't seem to believe me, not that I cared one way or the other. That was my story and I was sticking to it.

I smiled to think of what she would do if I had decided to regale her about my Sam dream in full and lurid detail.

Hey, I might give it a try sometime. Who knew? Maybe the miserable old cow would have a seizure, fall down and die.

I didn't really wish her ill of course (ok, maybe a little bit of ill, like a terminal bout of smallpox) but seriously, I thought the rest might do her well. She'd be resting in peace wouldn't she?

See how nice I can be?

I chuckled to myself as I finished saving my spread sheets and picked up my coat. It was time to meet up with the girls and have a natter about what we were doing over the next few days. We had a few things to iron out and I was looking forward to seeing them as well. The availability of coffee just made the meeting seem more appealing. If I could manage it, I'd be off before Jeannette decided that I should work off part of my lunch time as payment for coming in late. She'd tried it before but I'd told her that I had an important appointment and I would stay late after work.

Yeah right. And the Snow Queen's palace was built in the Sahara.

Once she left at 4.30, I was buggering off as well.

I strolled down the street, swishing my hair in the cool winter breeze as I sauntered along. It was a cold day but I was enjoying the fresh air after being cooped up in the office all morning. I lit up a ciggy as I walked.

I have to stop smoking, I really do.

Maybe I'd quit next year, if I lived that long. I was very aware of my own mortality but I was fine with it. What was it about the health sector that they wanted to suck all the fun out of life? Not to mention they changed their minds at a drop of the hat about what the latest no-no was. Don't eat this, don't fuck him, whatever you do, don't drink that. It was beyond ridiculous. We were all dying, a day at a time so why dawdle? Life would still throw shit at you anyway so you might as well meet it on your own terms.

I got to the café and smiled at the cute waiter. Andy was simply adorable but we had a firm rule among the four of us, we didn't shag where we ate. No messing with our food source or we'd be getting shit results on our orders someday soon. A shame really. He looked proper fit, Andy did. I allowed myself a little grin as I lapsed into our local lingo in my mind. Proper fit indeed, huh. I could see at least one member of Team Sapphire was already seated, tapping away on her laptop as usual. That woman, I was sure she'd soon have no fingers left; the ends would be worn down to itty-bitty little nubs. I moved to slide my bum into my usual seat.

"Hello darling, what are you working on today," I asked her as I made myself comfortable. "Will you please get that lovely boy to come over here and take our orders?"

"No, you silly, we have to wait till she gets here"

"But you've ordered. You've had a cuppa at the very least I'm sure. And is that the rest of a scone I see over there?" I quizzed, peering over at her side plate.

"It doesn't count. I've been here for ages, typing naturally, so technically it's the same as the last cup of tea you had at work before coming over. We will wait till she gets here. Simples!" She said with a smirk.

She really did make an adorable Meerkat. But she was standing in the way of my caffeine and that was not a safe place for anyone with an inkling of self-preservation.

"Nancy, we are always waiting for that woman. And for Sybil."

"Yes, but Sybil will not mind if we all order without her, Makayla will. She'll be here soon enough, Sweetie."

She didn't even look up from her keyboard. I leaned over to peek at what she was typing but she bopped me on the forehead.

"Nope, you know you are only allowed to see it when I've finished."

"But you are writing about us," I whined, rubbing my abused head.

This was a common argument and I'd never won. Nancy could be a real Nazi when it came to being focused. Getting her to change her mind was like trying to change the course of the Thames but persistence had been known to turn the tide in my favour before and I remained optimistic. One of these days I just might have my way.

"Yes, but I do not want to compromise my views by listening to what you have to say about what I have written."

I was about to reply to what I considered to be an utter piece of butt wax when I heard a delicious rumble of male laughter from behind me.

Oh my God, that voice.

Ahh, it sounded so good that I felt like going over just to make sure that the voice stayed in the café for a little while longer. His vibes shivered my timbers alright. Nancy raised her head and her eyebrows at the sound. The little bitch had a knowing smirk on her face. It was an open secret among our little clique that I go gaga, simply, totally gaga, over voices. I love the intrinsic strength of a tenor, the enchanting mystique of a bass, the caressing and lilting notes of an alto. Something inside me just seems to turn to goo whenever I hear a nice male voice.

And the one that had just attracted my attention sounded like a lovely vintage, well-aged and mellow. It made me think of sultry dancing and warm summer nights. Lasting friendships have been forged on the basis of how the individual rates on my personal voice-o-metre. I had this friend once whose voice could send shivers down every feminine spine in a fifty mile radius when he was rumbling out conversation to his cronies. While this guy was not in his league, he had some serious potential.

Nancy leaned in to ask me "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

I grinned back at her, raising my cell phone and reversing the camera on it so I could take a pix over my shoulder while appearing to take a picture of the scene outside the window. Nifty little things, these new smart phones, aren't they?

"What do you think?"

"I think Makayla needs to hurry up and get here. We have a lot to talk about." Nancy could hardly manage to keep a straight face.

"Yeah, and I need my caffeine fix ASAP or I will not be held responsible for my actions." I warned her good naturedly. "I am not even joking woman."
  5. # SYBIL

I stared at the pair of pink knickers that I had found stuffed down the side of the armchair in the den. They were definitely not mine. I knew this because gone, actually, long gone, hwere the days when I worried about having VPL and forced my butt crack to endure endless hours of being chafed raw by a G-string. Unhuh. No more of that ridiculous behaviour. Now, I made sure that I was comfortable, thank you very much and this frothy pink concoction definitely could not be mine. Not to mention I don't think I had ever been that small. It had to be a size eight or something and my natural black ass has been a size twelve for as long as I can rightly remember. A size fourteen in some places. The stupid clothing people never seem to get the sizing right, but if it fits I rarely quibble. What's in a number?

I heaved a sigh of discontentment. Did I really care? I couldn't even drum up the interest or effort it would take to confront Eric about the knickers. If he did that stupid trick of turning his soulful gaze on me and saying, "Baby, but you know I love you" in a solemn tone, I'd just be sick all over the stupid man. He could be such fuckhead sometimes.

It used to be the perfect get-out-of-jail-free card for him but its repeated overuse had made it so old, the line was tired, man. I'm sure Eric knew that it no longer worked on me and hadn't for ages but the lazy ass was just all out of lyrics and couldn't be bothered to come up with finding some new ones.

It was just like his lies. His lazy lies, so obviously pathetic it's almost as if he wants to tell me the truth but hasn't made up his mind yet.

All men lie.

FACT.

There isn't a woman on the planet that doesn't know this. There isn't a man on the planet that does not know that we know it. But they still lie anyway. Why? Because they just can't help it. That's fine, I understand that. It's wired into their basic mind set, yada yada yada. The problem isn't the lies per se. No, the only problem as I see it is the fact that we as women just can't ignore the indignity of being lied to, especially if the lie is so silly as to insult our intelligence. It is a wonder that the species has survived this long.

Those black widow spiders are on to something. Mate and then bite the head off the bastards. I'm sure it is only a matter of time before all the women of the world are reduced to fucking and then just killing our mates. Come to think of it, I'm sure there are a few gals out there whose lives would be a whole lot simpler and much more satisfying if they could just devour their spouses in one satisfying bite.

Crunch.

Looking at the little bit of pink nothing, I tried to picture in my head the size of butt it might belong to and shook my head.

Don't even go there, Sybil.

I mean, if Eric was going to give me an entertaining line or one that was at least a bit plausible, I would not mind talking about it with him. But knowing him, he would probably resort to spouting lame excuses or stupid ideas like maybe it was my sister's or some such nonsense and that would only serve as a waste of time for both of us.

Besides, I had my own side runs and adventures and I really was not a fan of the pot and kettle name-calling scenario. As far as I was concerned, we were both only mortal, which meant that we were fallible and human. When I took the time to think about it, I had to concede that Eric was entitled to his share of female companionship in whatever body form or clothing size that he decided that the female companionship should come in. If he had an itch he should scratch it as he pleased, although I'd prefer it if he had the decency to do his dogging in another yard, if you get my drift.

Some two or three years ago, I found that I had grown tired of swallowing pills on a daily basis just so he could mount and dismount at will without a care in the world, seeing as we were neither of us ready to be parents yet. To be honest, even though we were married, we were also not yet a hundred per cent sure that we wanted to be having those kids with each other. So, over time, I had resorted to a more pragmatic but highly effective form of contraception that had no side effects on my body that I could see.

I call it the "GET OUT" method of contraception and I'll swear by its efficacy before any medical board in the world. It basically entails me telling the horny bastard to get the fuck out of my room whenever he came sniffing around my draws. It isn't that I don't like sex, cos I do. It's just that I don't particularly like sex with Eric anymore and until that changes, frankly, I'm having none of it.

I laughed softly to myself at the memory of his face the first time I had unleashed the magic prophylactic on him. It had been quite a comical sight as he stopped short and took a couple of steps in retreat before he mumbled an apology of sorts and stumbled back to his room.

Poor Eric, he never really knew what next to expect from me. I couldn't really be mad at him though. Although we had grown apart in recent years, I still loved the silly goose.

"Well I sure hope he used a condom, cos I'm not nursing him through AIDS, that for sure."

Bearing in mind the recent popularity of grown men's confessions, I didn't know why Eric couldn't just man up and let me know that he was creeping with so so and so, you know, just spill the beans in true Usher style. I'd respect him a whole lot more if he did. Sheesh, I'd even write a song about it, make it a husky duet with the chick in question playing an accompanying sax. Hahaha. That is so not funny right now.

Truth be told, I wasn't quite sure how I would react if it ever came down to an open no-holds-barred conversation about it. After the years we had spent together, we were quite comfortable and I didn't see myself leaving Eric in the near future but you just never knew what might happen. You couldn't predict what one could say in the heat of the moment, what might just pop out.

Maybe it's better to just keep on keeping on, I mused quietly.

I tossed the panties in his waste paper basket and wished that I would be around to see his face when he caught sight of it. I was sure it would be another classic moment. I couldn't help but wonder who it was this time. Probably some skank from his office, no doubt someone who assured him that she got him, laughed at his dry jokes and ignored his ever increasing bald patch and pouch. In any case, I wished them well. I honestly didn't care anymore. I wondered if that was normal or if it was just me.

Unfortunately, coming from a broken home myself, I didn't really have any role models in the happily ever after department and I really didn't give two shits about the "till death do us part" stuff either. Unless of course Eric decided to obligingly keel over and die during one of his skank sessions.

Besides, I had gotten a boost on the companionship side when I hooked up with three other likeminded women in our small urban centre. In other words they were as crazy as I was and I loved every minute we spent together.

We had met in a small café about six months ago and something had just clicked between the four of us. Ever since then we had met at the same café twice a week for lunch and then once a week in the evening. We called ourselves the Sapphire Club and we all had code names.

Robin, the sexy red head who worked as an administrator during the day was the sultry Siren. Sexy, sassy and with just enough bitch in her to keep the rest of us from hating her perfect little white ass. I mean if I didn't like dick so much, I'd do her myself. She was hot, no questions asked. She also had a naughty streak that was a mile wide and several miles long. She was pretty much up for anything.

Nancy, the part-time HR manager was our dedicated and knowledgeable Scribe. She was in charge of keeping our records. She did this in the form of the full length novels that she wrote about our exploits. They were fiction but based on true happenings and were bringing in a shit load of money. She was a cool blond with piercing green eyes and a body that would not quit. Originally from Lithuania, she had relocated to the UK with her family but for some reason had given up on her dreams of being a fashion model. Keenly intelligent, she handled the purse and the planning of all our operations. She was totally cool. Nancy was a good egg.

Don't know what we would do without her, and that's the God given truth, I mused.

In my mind's eye I pictured Makayla. She really was the icing on the cake. With her short androgynous haircut, her light brown, chocolate coloured skin, her looks and pixie face brought to mind the cute and adorable little sister that everyone wants to have. Picture a young Halle B and you'd get an idea of what a punch she packed in the looks department. She was Sphinx and to my mind she was to a great extent, the glue that held us all together. She kept the other two in shape and in order, a tough job at the best of times. Makayla was also a skilled hand when it came to communication and electronics. She was our gadget guy. Or gadget girl, as I preferred to call her.

And me, well, I already knew what I did. I handled the logistics, provided the accommodations and all the props that we needed. And since all the sexy code names were already taken, I just went by my own name, Sybil.

I smiled to myself. Anyone who read the novels that Scribe penned (or typed) would think they were filled with the stuff of fantasy and would never dream that those fantasies were actually being enacted in real life in modern day Britain.

We didn't do anything nefarious, I thought to myself.

We were all about making dreams and fantasies come true.

I had to meet up with the girls in about thirty minute's time. I'd already put in enough effort on the home front today so I headed upstairs to change. It was a sad but true fact that they always ended up waiting on me. I was always the last to get to our meeting point no matter how early I left home. I wished I could say that today would be better but I am an honest soul. Well most of the time anyway.

My personal philosophy is that it is alright to lie to everyone else but to yourself, it is imperative that you tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but. Lying to myself was something I had learned not do. It served no purpose and was often counter-productive.

I was going to be late; that much I already knew and I was sure the girls already knew this as well. How late was the only matter that was still up for consideration. I put an extra burst into my preparations. I could not wait to tell them about Eric and the G-string saga. That story would definitely provide us with some entertainment today. Our lunches were always fun but I knew the girls would enjoy the little bit of gossip anyways.

I got out my favourite red tee-shirt that had the "oy, I caught you looking" caption in white across my boob line. It never failed to perk me right up whenever I saw a guy's ears turn slightly red after they read the whole sentence. I smiled a little as I pulled it on, matching it with my latest pair of favourite dark blue jeans. People really couldn't help but notice my boobs though. My anterior aspect was a natural wonder made up of God's creativity and man's architectural prowess.

The suspension in these babies is totally awesome, I smirked to myself, jiggling the twins up and down a bit.

A pair of hot red wedges and my new winter coat completed the outfit. I was looking fly and I knew it. I was finally ready.

I picked up my bag, took one last look in the mirror and sauntered out of the house. As I got behind the wheel of the car I thought to myself: Those girls have better not have ordered yet, or else...
  6. # MAKAYLA

I got to the café with time to spare and could see Nancy and Robin already seated, laughing at something. I was sure that Robin was being her usual naughty self. That was what we loved about her. They were both looking lovely and the sight of them brought a smile to my face. I'd had a quiet day at work and was intending to treat myself to an extra-long lunch break.

"Hello ladies," I said with a smile as I slipped off my red coat and undid my scarf. I hung them on the back of my chair and slid in while asking them, "Share the joke you reprobates. What's making you laugh?"

This only provoked more laughter from the pair of them.

"What's so funny? Is Sybil here yet? What are we having for lunch? You naughty little buggers, what are you laughing about? Come on, share already."

"Ok, ok," Robin said, still laughing. "One question at a time."

"Well gimme an answer already then." I promptly replied.

"Well first and foremost, we haven't decided what we're having for lunch yet, but Meanie here wouldn't even let me order a drink till you came in so can we please get something to drink while we wait for Sybil." She blinked her baby blues at me and pouted adorably.

"Yeah well, we can all see what you have on the brain, apart from guys," Nancy said. "I don't know where you put it all," she added referring to Robin's svelte frame. The girl could really put it away but never seemed to gain an ounce.

"Oooh Makayla," Robin squealed, leaning in to me as she tapped my arm. "Check out the beefcake at the table behind. I have such great plans for that man."

"Great plans or great 'plan' plans?"

"Both. You know that I am a firm believer in mixing business with pleasure whenever and however that is possible."

"Yeah, we all know you," Nancy and I chorused happily. We sat in silence for a moment, just grinning at each other like a mutual adoration fan club. I'd missed them this week even though it had only been a couple of days since we'd all been together.

"Right," I said, "lets sort out the menus."

"But what about Sybil?"

"She'll just have to go along with whatever we pick cos..."

"Cos I'm late again, I know," said a voice from over my shoulder. Sybil had arrived, just at the right moment. She plonked her behind down on the chair. "Ok, I'm here now, let's do this."

I looked over the three of them, and felt something click in to place on my insides. For the first time that day, my world felt complete. These ladies knew my innermost dreams and desires, they had seen me at my best and at my worst, and they still accepted me. They were always there for me and we'd supported each other through a lot of stuff in the past six months. Huh, guess all that stuff about friends who stick closer than family wasn't all just a load of sentimental bull. These girls were truly closer to me than many of my blood relations. I loved them so much.

While we sorted out what we were going to eat and drink, we caught each other up with the happenings of the week, shared all the little things that had happened at home, at work and with the significant others. Sybil had this hilarious tale about her husband and a piece of string that was masquerading as a pair of knickers. There was a lot of laughter round the table about that one. Robin was droning on about a dream she'd had that morning and Nancy was talking about a meeting she'd had with the publishers that week.

That served as a signal to start discussing the main reason for our lunch gathering that day.

"So girls, what's next or rather, who's next?"

"I vote for the beefcake, I vote for the beefcake," Robin chanted over and over.

"Down girl," Sybil said, making a calming motion with her hands. "We've got bigger fish to fry."

Nancy turned her laptop around so we could see the picture on her screen.

"Ladies, meet Kevin Bain. He's thirty four years of age, single (we all giggled at the way she said that), and way past time he wasn't in my opinion," she added with a wink. "He works at a high street bank and his annual income is in excess of seventy thousand pounds. He likes dogs and blonds and he drives a silver Ferrari. The best part is he stays here in Hertfordshire and he owns his own house."

"Of course he does, he's a banker. What's his bonus like?" I asked.

It was a relevant question after all, in these days of multimillion pound bonuses. It could affect our game plan in a significant manner.

"I am not at liberty to say," Nancy said archly, triggering more giggles, "but I am quite sure Kevin," she drawled his name languidly, "will be happy to make a donation to the Sapphire Club after we've spent some quality time with him."

"Oh I can't wait. I need some distraction from this dry spell I've been having. I'm so horny these days I've been thinking of joining my neighbours Bill and Jenna for their daily a.m. sex marathons."

"Robin!" I gasped, half shocked, half amused. "I mean eww.. girl. Have you seen the wife?" I asked. "I mean the guy is ok, I'd definitely do him but that corpse bride is a different story all together."

"Darling, I've told you before. It's not really about what they look like," Robin purred like the vixen she was.

"Right then," Nancy said. "He will get his invitation tonight and if he is game, then we'll be up on the day after. Is that ok with everyone?"

We all nodded. To be frank, we were all looking forward to it. We had such fun on our escapades.

"Alright. I'll email this to all of us and will commence research on Robin's piece of eye candy over there."

"I'll jumpstart the process," the little minx volunteered. "I already have his pix on my phone," she said as she handed said phone to Nancy, "so I'll just say hello on my way back to work. That is if I ever get back to work."

She departed to the sound of our hoots and cat calls. I could see the table of guys pause and just watch her as she sashayed towards them. The poor suckers did not stand a chance. She'd get the guy whose voice had acted as a magnet and probably the other two as well. Oh well, she was code named Siren for a reason.

"Well, I guess I need to be getting along as well," I told them. "We can't all take a break from work whenever we like. Well I can...,"

"But you won't," Sybil completed. She knew me so well.

"How's the clan though?"

"Extremely loving and all up in my biz all the time as usual."

"Aw, don't knock it my love, family is important."

"I know, I know," I said.

"Ok babes. We'll meet up later once everything is set."

"Come prepared," Sybil warned.

"Will do. I really gotta go."

I got my stuff together and started walking out of the café. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Robin three deep in handsome hunks. The girl worked fast, I'd give her that. I felt a huge smile slowly spreading across my face and I just let it rip. It felt good to be happy for no reason.

Anyway, for me, it was time to head back to work. I had to remember to pick up some milk on my way back home. I debated doing it now, but soon decided that it would be best if I left it to later. Didn't want to forget it in the office fridge.

I plugged in my iPod and let the dulcet tones of Michael Bublé caress my eardrums. At that point in time, life was more than good, it was perfect and I was feeling good.
  7. # NANCY

Well, that went well.

I had thoroughly enjoyed myself and the best part was that the day was not over yet. After Makayla left, Sybil and I packed up my laptop and moved on to part two of our plans for the afternoon. We were going to indulge in a little bit of retail therapy before we headed home. We left Robin doing what she did best and wrapped up appropriately before we braved the cold again.

"So what are you in the mood for today?" Sybil asked me as we made our way towards the shopping boulevard.

"I was thinking that we needed some more sparkly dangly stuff, earrings and charm bracelets, you know, attention grabbers."

"Hmm, sounds good. Not that you girls need any more help grabbing male attention but I'll go along with that. I was in the mood for more tops myself. And I definitely need a new pair of jeans. These ones are getting too snug."

I stopped for a minute to give her a onceover.

"What is the matter with you huh? It's always amazing to me that someone who looks as incredible as you still has issues with her body. You look fantastic."

"Yeah well, I'll be looking fantastically fat and fantastically naked if I do not get myself another pair of jeans and get on a diet as soon as possible well," Sybil replied with a shrug.

"If you'd put on even a single ounce, Makayla would have said so. You know she keeps an eagle eye on such things," I told her.

It was the truth. I don't know how she did it but Makayla was phenomenal at such stuff. She could tell if we'd added a fractional bit of weight just by looking at us and her gestimates were usually spot on as well.

"I suppose you are right." She sighed.

That was strange. It wasn't like her to be so down and she loved her full and bountiful figure so I knew something was up.

While other pedestrians meandered around us and gave us both a number of dark looks for holding up the traffic on the pavement, I took the time to put a hand on her arm and look closely at my friend. She always came across as super confident and she was literally the motivating force for our little club. If Sybil was having troubles, then all of us had a problem.

"Ok, now you have to tell me what is really bothering you. Come on, Spill. You can tell your Aunty Nancy everything." I was genuinely worried now.

She smiled a little at the Aunty Nancy stuff but she let it slide for now.

"Well, it's just that the G-string stuff bothered me a little more than I let on back there."

The G-string? What was that all about? As far as I knew she and Eric had an understanding about the boundaries of their matrimony and if things had changed, this was the first I was hearing about it. It seemed they had a very modern take on things and while I was a little sceptical about it working out long term, in such matters I believed that 'to each her own' was a philosophy that served me well.

"It did? Are you going to say anything to Eric then?"

"Oh hell no!" she exclaimed. "Eric? What would I say to him?" She snorted at the thought of it.

"I don't know, I mean it's none of my business but should he be doing that at home?"

"I don't really care actually."

It would appear that I was missing something here. If it wasn't Eric's antics with his mystery lady friend that were bugging her about the situation then what was up?

"Then what's the problem girl? I mean really, I thought you were fine with the man getting his freak on wherever and with whomever."

"Well I was. I mean I am. No, it's not that. I mean, I'm not exactly the model of fidelity myself now, am I? No, it's because the damn thing was so small. I mean who wears size 8? What adult female fits into clothes from the kiddies' department?"

"I see your point," I said, eyeing her full figure. "But it's nothing to do with size. An Aphrodite like you," I continued in solemn tones, referring to the Greek goddess, "could never be a size 8, you've got way too much going on here"- I waved my hands in front of my chest "and here" and shaped my hands over my hips as well.

My clowning had the desired result and Sybil cracked a smile. I knew I had cheered her up a little. "Ok so let's go and make the girls in French Connection earn their pay for the day."

"Oh I like that image. They always turn their noses up at people don't they? It'd be fun to turn the tables on them. Shall we pretend to be snotty French ladies today, disappointed that they do not have the latest designs from Paris?"

"But naturally, Mon Cherie what else could fabulous people like us be, Oui?" I asked in an affected pseudo-French accent. "Unless of course we want to be plus sized models just in from Milan?

"Oy, that's enough out of you, Ms Chocolat, don't rub it in. Plus sized indeed. And just for that I am adding lingerie to the list. Let's see how you like that"

She knew I didn't really get the whole sexy underwear market, I mean it's called underwear for a reason so why spend a fortune on it when you are only going to cover it up but I was game. Anything to cheer her up

"Oh you wicked woman. That works for me though. I'm thinking a corset and some gloves would do me fine."

"Corset? For you?" She whipped her head back and forth dramatically. "Who are you and what have you done with my friend?"

I laughed in reply but didn't comment on my fashion choice. I just stood there smiling at her.

She took my silence in the sprit it was intended. She could see I would not be easily swayed.

"Ok. I can see it's going to be one of those days. Let's get started then. The good shops will be closing soon"

"Right, in here then. Lightest items first. Jewellery..."

"Seems like a plan, my lovely."

Arm in arm, we stepped into the first of the outlets we were going to terrorise that afternoon.
  8. # UNKNOWN SUBJECT – MALE

There is a slightly conceited smile on my face as I sit and think. I have been sitting in my living room, just enjoying some solitude in my favourite room. With its bright red carpet and matching chairs, it suits my temperament to a tee. There are ambitious landscapes from virtually unknown artists gracing my walls and brightly coloured cushions on the armchairs, relics from the days when I actually had persistent and consistent female company in the place. Those days are long gone and believe me, I remind myself of that with some relief every day.

Without looking at the clock I know that it is just about two in the morning. I know because this is a usual pattern for me, part of my daily routine if you like. The telly is on but I am not really paying any attention to the tired re-run of a soap opera that has been shown on the small screen over and over in the past few years. It must be truly cringe worthy for the actors themselves to still see these images of their then youthful selves being replayed endlessly on British television. It makes me wonder why I continue to pay my exorbitant cable TV subscriptions. I have watched some of these shows so many times I can practically recite them word for word. It's a little pathetic really but there you are.

Anyway, while the high school stars recite their stilted, scripted lines, I am miles away from my North London flat, lost in my thoughts. I like to think I'm the epitome of the deep thinker, a philosopher of sorts. There is nothing harder for a man to admit than for him to admit that he knows nothing. And yet, the true scholar knows that it is only in the acceptance of our fundamental lack of knowledge that true knowledge can be found.

Life is just full of mysteries. Mysteries that we will in all likelihood never be able to fully understand. Man is born, man lives his life and dies and so the cycle continues. Yes, this we all know. I myself am currently in my third decade. I was born, I grew and now I continue to eke out an existence on this mortal plain.

The question of the ages is why is man born? Why does he live...a year? One decade, or five? Who can say? And then one day with little or no warning, why does that life that man lives suddenly come to an abrupt, sudden and complete full stop?

I feel a pang of hunger coming on, so I get up and make my way to my kitchen. There I put together the magic ingredients for a proper midnight snack. A little cheese, a little ham, some toast and my meal is ready for consumption. I consider a cup of tea but decide to wash down my meal with a cheap mix of orange juice and vodka instead and return to my musings in front of the TV.

As I live alone there is no one to complain about the crumbs and I will doubtless tidy up in the morning. The joys of being single are being made manifest right before my eyes. I smile a little as I pick up the remote and flick listlessly through the channels. I happen on the BBC news channel and pause for a couple of minutes. The newscaster is reading the teleprompter with such self –importance that it turns my stomach. So there are people dying in the Middle East. Fighting over a spot on a planet that is just a temporary home to any of us. It amuses me that the details of the news never seem to vary from day to day. There is always war, an impending financial crisis or a celebrity caught with their pants down. You could swap out the tapes for different days and still have the most up-to-date global news.

The true irony is that no matter who we are, or where we are, we all have to pass through from this life. Though the manner in which we die may differ, but there is no doubt that we will die. We are not any of us exempt, no one is safe. From this fate, no human can escape. Nobody lives forever. In fact, I'd say we all die a little every little day.

The virtuous priest and the vilest of sinners, the learned doctor and his most feeble of patients. The incorruptible judge and the depraved felon on death row. We all go through the motions and deceive ourselves that we are different. That we are in some way better or more fortunate than the other ill-fated souls around us. And yet, Death sits and laughs, making jest of us all. For in death, all men are equal.

So we stay on the carousel and endure the carnival ride that is life till the machinery that is the human form comes to a graceless and jerky end. Some people decide to stop the ride early- they jump off a bridge or swallow a bottle of pills. Others decide not to know. They go along with the joke, with the game that life plays with each of us. They play a lottery every day, not knowing if this is the day when the engines that power their existence run out of fuel and grind to a standstill.

As a man of some discernment, I recognise this as a fundamental fact of life. It gives me an added edge so I play my role with gusto; I carry out my tasks with ease. I help the dark and horrid reaper called Death to pluck his unsuspecting victims out of the drab continuum that is their daily existence. I help those pathetic drones escape the monotony of their daily grind. I put an end to the endless turmoil that is their life.

I lean back in my armchair and try to quiet my restless mind. It has become commonplace for me to sit up musing till the early hours of the morning. The hours of solitary contemplation help to quell the grumblings of the beast inside. It helps to soothe us both. I have learnt the hard way that there is little use in me going up to my bed. My mind is too active and it takes a while to wind down. The aimless chatter from the telly acts as a white noise that soothes me. I will probably fall asleep in this armchair, just like I did yesterday and the day before and the day before that. It really is quite comfy, I must confess.

I huffed out a breath of air in irritation at myself. To my mind, whining over spilt milk is an exercise in futility. I do not regret the choices I have made in my life that have brought me to this point. I enjoy my work but my services do not come cheap. I will not offer my services to those who are unworthy. I have the cravings of a magpie. I must have pretty things. I have no use for the disgustingly inept and the ugly. They can take their time. Nature will cull out the undeserving. No, I keep my eye on the best of the pride. I have a thing for gemstones too. The shinier they are, the better they will look in my collection.

Presently, I've got my eye on not one but four beauties who I know will make a lovely collection of feathers for my cap. A rich prize that only a skilled hunter like myself could ever hope to bag.

Their passing will be mourned by many but will be witnessed only by a single soul.

Me.

So I sit in my chair and ponder the steps that will help me achieve my plans. My last thoughts as I slowly drift off to sleep are of pretty shiny things.

Pretty.

Shiny.
  9. # ROBIN

I didn't make it back to work that afternoon after all. I was rather sozzled and even in my inebriated state I recognised that it would be preferable to be absent from work than to be drunk on duty. I could imagine the field day Jeannette would have with me being tipsy at the desk. No, I didn't think that would be a pretty sight at all.

I could always explain my absence with the usual feminine excuse of really bad menstrual cramps that came on suddenly but there was no way I could make up an excuse for vodka fumes. I wonder who came up with the myth that drinks made with the Russian national drink did not smell of alcohol. Although I guess I could have claimed medicinal usage but I would still have to keep the cramps as the reason why I needed it.

Nah, better to just stay away.

Jeannette would just have to deal.

I'd had a lovely time with the hunks from lunch after the ladies had departed one after the other. He of the lovely voice had turned out to be an insurance agent while his friend was a landscape artist.

Nice work if you could get it.

We'd ended our time together with an exchange of business cards and an exchange of numbers and promises to call but I certainly would not be holding my breath. Mr Delectable Ear Candy had a slim band lighter than the rest of the skin on his naked ring finger but that could mean anything. I had learnt the hard way that men did not really like being quizzed about their status on the first date and besides, so what if he was married, I'd do him anyway if I felt like. Not my fault if the little lady could not keep her fella in check, now was it? But that was only if he called.

And the chances of that were slim. I had no illusions. We'd had fun at lunch but that was about it. I had higher hopes of his friend calling. The landscape artist had seemed more of a player than the other one though unfortunately he wasn't as cute. Nancy would be able to tell us if his bank balance would make it worth our while for the Sapphire Club to take a deeper interest in his affairs but I didn't think so. It seemed to me that the chap was strictly small potatoes. Oh well, I would simply have to take my jollies where I could get them, just like any single girl would do.

I eventually got my sorry self back home and settled down in front of my laptop to check my mail and sort out my outfit for the Sapphire club gig that we'd be having over the weekend. As Siren, I had to make sure everything was tapping and on point when it came to my looks. The honey trap wouldn't work as well if it was an ugly-assed hairy female spider on the web. I had some lady-scaping and maintenance to do so I got my lady shaver out as well as the hair removal creams and body scrubs I used to keep my body looking its best. I'd found that I could save a fortune on the spa treatments if I did some basic prep work at home. What joy! It was going to be a lazy night in for me.

I put on some music and then stepped into the bathroom to start my evening of my primping.

Thank God tomorrow's not a working day!

The five day working week was one of the small mercies of modern life as far as I was concerned. What was the point of slaving your life away if you could never take enough quality down time to enjoy the fruits of your labour? Life was for living. And living entailed having time away from the grind to loosen up.

I heard a curse and then some rhythmic thumping from next door. Bill and Jenna were obviously at it again.

Figures, I thought as I quickly hopped into the shower, determined to be done before they got started on the hot water tonight. A girl could only take so much. I'd prefer a leisurely soak in the tub but I'd settle for a shower instead. It would have to do. I just had to have hot water on my skin.

Standing under the spray I lathered my hair and just let the warm water wash away the cobwebs in my head. I let my hands run down my body and spread the exotic smelling body mousse that I used over my limbs and body. I let my fingers run gently down my body and enjoyed the combination of the caress of water and tactile sensations of my hands. I could feel myself loosening up, every tense muscle just easing up. Already, I felt much better.

In my bedroom, a man's voice was singing loudly about the lady who was always a woman to him. "La-la-la," I sang along at the top of my voice. Though I enjoyed my music, I could barely sing a note in tune to save my life. My friends always laughed that if I knew the tune I didn't know the words and if I knew the words, which I more often did, then I would have no idea about the tune. No matter. We all knew that I would not be winning any Grammys any time soon.

I let my hand slide down to the moist and warm place between my legs and let my fingers coax out some much needed relief. As I moved in time to the music and let the water add an extra layer of pleasure, I promised myself that I would take it all the way with the next client I entertained at Sapphire central. This dry spell was getting ridiculous. As tremors racked my body, a short sharp cry escaped my lips and I leaned back against the tiles to steady myself. Every nerve in my body seemed to have just fired and then shut down.

Bliss.

Grabbing two of the fluffy red towels that I had on the handrail, I wrapped one around myself torso and the other around my hair. I then sat myself down to sort out the other business I had in there. While I shaved my legs I wondered if I should go with cherry or peach for my nails this week. Hmm, decisions, decisions.
  10. # SYBIL

It was six o'clock in the evening and everything was in place. I and my girls were set to rock and roll. There was thankfully no more snow and the weather that evening was cool and nice. I had the windows cracked open to let in a bit of the lovely fresh air as I drove. The sun had set over two hours ago but the lights of the city centre were on and gave a warm orange glow to the world. The back streets of Barnet were quiet as I drove out towards Hatfield. I loved this part of town.

Traffic was light and I was just cruising as I made my way towards the heart of Hertfordshire. I was on pickup duty and would be meeting Sphinx and Siren at the site. They had come ahead to make sure the gentleman in question was home alone and ready to go.

We'd had occasions in the past where clients had tried to get a two for one deal by bringing along a friend. We'd made it clear that this was a violation of the rules and had been a little strict in enforcing this.

Sphinx and Siren were to get into the house, have a few drinks and give the client the light drug that would make him nod off for a few hours. With his consent of course. Although he didn't know that tonight was the night, he'd been prepared for this for more than a month. He had applied after all. By the time he woke up, he'd be deep in the Sapphire world. Scribe was waiting back at base to set up the monitoring station and the sensory room.

By site, I meant the gentleman's house. It was in a classy upscale locale and paid silent tribute to the financial status of its residents. According to Scribe, a number of top London footballers and other celebrities had sheltered estates around this place. Driving through, I could see why. The houses around here did not have street numbers, they had names. In fact calling them houses was mildly insulting to the spacious and luxurious manors and mansions I was driving past.

Mansions, yeah that sounded better.

Large estates, really large estates surrounded by six- foot tall fences camouflaged in greenery, topped with barbed wire and opening to electric gates watched by high-tech security cameras. I glimpsed a flood lit pool behind one house as I passed by. Nice.

Mr Kevin Bain had given us a key to his luxurious bachelor pad when he sent in the completed health inquiry form and the usual waivers. I think he was just up for a bit of adventure and hadn't a clue what we were really about. For some reason he thought we would be spending the 48 hour period in his house.

Wrong.

The first thing we did at the start of a Sapphire gig was to take the clients out of their comfort zones. It had to be that way.

Everyone thinks that people all have deep dark fantasies lurking in their subconscious that are only brought out to play in the dark. Since we had started this jaunt into the seamier side of life in the nation's capital city, I had found out that most people's fantasies were really quite mundane. Take Kevin, tonight's client for example. He had submitted a laundry list of acts that he would like us to do with him or to him during his time with the Sapphire Club. For a once in a life time opportunity, it didn't really have much on it. I mean, really, a full body massage with scented oils and hot stones? He really should have signed up at his local spa, I'm sure their rates would be a lot less exorbitant than ours. We did get to change the order of things though so that was something I guess. We started the club to put some excitement in our lives, not to die of boredom for Christ's sake.

Luckily, we had one free act to perform, a mystery pro bono, one guaranteed-to-blow-his-mind act. I was sure Sphinx would think of something interesting. I smiled when I remembered one of her more ingenious creations that involved the use of a portable zero gravity tent. I don't know where she got her ideas from but they were usually dynamite and spot on the money as well.

I'd noticed that most people found it hard to surrender to their innermost feelings and desires when they were in familiar surroundings. It seemed as if being in such places served as a reminder of who they were in normal circumstances and this prevented them from cutting loose and letting their hair down with us.

And if they did finally find it in themselves to explore all their deep and dark fantasies with us ladies, it was not uncommon for them to find it harder still to stay in same surroundings after their last vestige of resistance had been removed. Not to mention that the risk of being walked in on by their family, friends or significant others was guaranteed to put a damper on their enthusiasm.

So it was actually for the wellbeing and safety of all parties involved that we sorted the accommodations first thing.

My having a friend who was an estate agent made life easy in this regard. Finding sites for our activities was easy and since a lot of them were furnished luxury apartments, it worked well. We tried not to use the same site twice as we wanted to stay anonymous. Also to keep under the radar, we made it certain that no one got an invite twice. We were literally offering a once-in-a-lifetime experience. We'd had gentlemen trying to re-live the experience by booking under a false name but Sphinx was always one step ahead of their tricks and her vetting skills were unparalleled. If anything smelled even the tiniest bit hinky, we walked away. It was that simple.

I tapped the earpiece in my left ear.

"Scribe, what's up with Sphinx and Siren?"

"They are all set, Siren has made a new friend and they've been downing shots like there is no tomorrow. He has had his medicine like a good little lad."

"With a spoon full of sugar?" I asked with a grin on my face.

"With a whole lot of sugar, much more than a spoonful." She laughed.

She had such a dirty laugh, full bodied and sexy. It seemed at odds with her quiet persona but once you got to know the way her mind worked, you knew it suited her down to a tee.

"Ok, Scribe. Keep it down. I get the picture."

"Everything is ready for your arrival, Sybil."

"Ok. I'm almost at the site, will pick them up and head back ASAP. Fingers crossed for a flawless extraction."

"Copy that," Scribe said with a laugh.

I turned the truck into the driveway at the address I'd been given and beeped the horn once. Just one short sharp burst. It brought instant results. There was a flurry of activity as the girls came out of the house, wheeling Kevin on the collapsible chair that we kept for such purposes. Carrying upwards of seventy kilos of a hundred per cent solid male was not something any of us was prepared to do a lot of, so the chair was a necessity. Luckily it folded away and was not conspicuous in size, though we kept it out of sight till it was needed anyway.

I checked out the bloke they were wheeling towards me. He looked to be a well-built man in his mid-thirties. He had a full head of brownish hair and even in repose I could see his muscle tone was solid. I felt my mouth watering.

Ooh, tasty, tasty.

We were definitely going to have fun with this one. He had specified that he wanted the all-out Level One experience so he was in for a treat as well. I went to help them get him into the car.

"Hello girls," I chirped happily. "You alright?"

"Yeah," they echoed.

"Have a good run?" Siren asked.

"Yep. I had a lovely drive down. Love the neighbourhood too."

I glanced at her, and took in what she was wearing.

"Hmm, love the outfit girl. You're looking smashing as always babe."

"You like?" She preened as she gave a little twirl, showing it off.

"I really like. Nice one. Wish the real ones looked like you. Hmm mm mm. Lord have mercy," I quipped in a very bad Bill Cosby impression.

"He liked it too" said Sphinx dourly, grunting with the effort of keeping him in the chair. It did get a little wobbly at times.

"Liked it a little too much in my opinion."

Siren had changed into her nurse's uniform and had strapped an authentic looking BP machine to his arm. If we got pulled over for any reason, it had to look legit. No way were we going to cool our heels in a jail cell while waiting for Kevin to wake up and explain to the police that he wanted us to kidnap him. No, that would never do. Although looking at the way she filled out the nurses' uniform, I had my doubts about whether or not the disguise would work. She didn't look like any of the nurses I knew, that's for sure. Those NHS nurses were always looking tired and stressed.

"All aboard," I said once we got him and his 'nurse' situated. Let's get this gig started. Scribe is waiting on us."
  11. # NANCY

I was seated at my station where I had all the cameras and audio feeds wired into the communication station that Makayla had put together. That girl's tech skills were legendary. She was a true wizard with a knack for making electronics respond to her every wish. I was making a recording of our session with Kevin. His extraction and delivery had gone smoothly enough. We'd laid him out on the specially designed work top that could be manipulated to function as a slab, chair or lounge bed that we had in the basement of this luxurious house that Sybil had arranged and he had woken up slowly under the ministrations of Sybil giving him a hot stone massage.

From the moans and deeper groans that had been wafting up through the speakers, I could tell he was having himself a grand old time. The tactile sensations seemed to be hitting all the right spots on Mr Bain. She'd used scented body oils and warm towels to make every bone in his body go limp except for the newly developed bone he seemed to be growing in his groin.

Using her handheld body massager, I watched as she had started from the back of his neck and worked her way down to his toes. Wiping her hands on a towel, she'd placed the small black stones used for the hot massage in a straight line starting from the small of his back towards his shoulders. After stones had started to cool, she had encouraged him to turn over. I could tell from his face that he didn't know what to expect next. I smirked to myself, alone in my watchtower, when I noticed that whatever it might be, he seemed to be up for it. Literally.

The basement doors opened slowly to show a new addition to the party. Siren came mincing in on her six inch stilettos wearing only the skimpiest of attires – a skin toned two piece that revealed more than it covered in my opinion. Although to be fair you could probably see much more flesh on display in most music videos.

With an impish smile she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek, allowing her long red hair to fall over his face. He was looking up at her like a kid in a candy store. She and Sybil then adjusted the slab into a chair-like setting. When he was positioned to give Siren the best access to him, she proceeded to give him a front seat view to the best of her lap dancing skills.

She walked around him, toying with him while the music and the scents around him acted as an aphrodisiac to his senses. When you came in already stripped to the level Siren had been, you'd have to have some serious skills if you were going to keep the other participants engaged. From the look on his face, I'd say Kevin was pretty well engaged.

As I watched, I kept the recording on and started making preliminary notes in my notes. I was hoping for at least three chapters in my next book from tonight's escapades and it looked like I would get them.

I got up to use the bathroom and get myself a hot drink. It would soon be time to call for a break anyway. The poor man's nervous system could only take so much stimulation.

In my head I was trying to make an assessment of how large a donation we could ask Kevin for. It was tricky. Though I felt we could never ask for too much as we were well worth every penny, it wouldn't do to seem too greedy. Too little and it would make us seem like we were merely two –bit whores masquerading as wish providers. Yes, we have had sexual or near sexual relations with our clients in the past and I had no doubt that we would again in the future. But no, we were not prostitutes. We were fantasy service providers. Every client requested a specific list of acts or activities that they craved and we did our best to oblige them on return for the contributions that we left entirely to their discretion. With a helpful little nudge in the right direction of course. That went without saying.

But we only slept with clients if we wanted to and that part of it wasn't paid for. As Siren would say, that was just scratching a biological itch when it arose and it was a mutual service. We were only human after all and some of our activities would turn a nun into a quivering bundle of desire so we'd learnt to pace ourselves and take relief where and where we could. Sometimes our partners at home where the lucky recipients of our hungers, sometimes we couldn't wait that long. For me though, it was only on the rarest of occasions that I didn't make it back home to Stephen, preferring to content myself with temporary forms of relief at Sapphire central.

Walking back to the communication station, I stopped to look out of the window. With the blue patterned curtains drawn back, the clear glass was framed nicely and the views from up here were spectacular in every respect. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly as I fed my eyes on the landscape. The places that Sybil got for us were always very picturesque, she claimed the ambience helped to convince our guests that we were in the big leagues.

I wish I could live in a place like this for real.

It was one of my driving ambitions. I wanted a home of my own, a permanent place where I could put down my roots and know that I had found a place for me and mine. With any luck, if our side line activities continued to be as lucrative as they had been in recent times, I just might get my heart's desire. Nevertheless I still shuddered to think what Stephen would say if he ever found out about my covert activities.

I walked back to the computer. The images on the screen started to blur as I allowed my thoughts to drift, though I noted Sphinx had joined the party. Her golden skin seemed to glow on my little screen and I marvelled afresh at just how beautiful she was. The girl had everything going for her. I settled back into my chair and swivelled slowly from side to side. I was not on rotation for active duty with this client so I was taking it easy. He had another couple of hours with us before we returned him to his home.

I fiddled with the speaker dial, trying to tune out the earthy sounds piping through the wires. I put in my earphones and leaned back in my chair as I let the DJ at Capital FM play me a selection of the week's top forty. I was really loving some of the tracks that had been playing today. I wondered where the artists got their inspiration. I glanced back at my computer screen and grimaced. This was where I got my inspiration but I wondered if I didn't need something new, something different. Maybe it was time to shake things up.
  12. # ROBIN

When we were done with Kevin, I left Mr Bain to Sybil's tender mercies while I made my way up to the watchtower as we called it, to have a little chat with Nancy. Sometime she looked a little isolated from the rest of us and I didn't like thinking that we were leaving her out of all the fun parts of our adventures. She never complained though and personally I sometimes got the impression that she preferred her computer to human company. Just on the odd occasion though. At other times she was just Scribe; nice and fun with a killer sense of humour.

I swished my hair back as I refastened the ties on the emerald green silk robe I was wearing and stepped into her office space. She had the uncanny ability of being able to reproduce her workspace in every venue where we set up, down to the smallest detail.

Talk about being obsessive compulsive.

Nancy took it to a whole new level.

"Did you get all that, Scribe, my darling?" I asked, knowing it was a purely rhetorical question. I knew she'd have her eagle eye on pretty much every little detail.

"Yeah, pretty much. This one was really intense. It should make for a good story line as well."

"Goodie, that's what I like to hear. More books, more money."

I stepped closer to watch her work. She was clicking and typing away at her computer station as usual but out of the corner of my eye I saw something that made me stop and take a closer look.

"Are you saving this? I though we all agreed that there would be no tapes, no copies of this and that the cameras were for surveillance only."

I didn't really mind the idea of having a backup copy of the day's activities but if there were kinky tapes of me in existence, I wanted to know about it. And maybe get a few of them for myself. I wasn't a prude but the other ladies had agreed that due to the sensitive nature of our entertainment sessions it was best if the only records were in Scribe's books where they could pass as fiction if the press and gossip columns ever got wind of our adventures.

"I know, of course I'm not keeping it. I just wanted to play it back one more time so that I could make up my notes."

Her excuse sounded a little flimsy but I let it go. We were all in this together after all. And this was Scribe, no less. Who was I to question whether or not she needed more visuals for her notes? I put the whole thing out of my mind. It was no biggie.

"Ok, no worries but did you notice that Sphinx really seemed to like this guy. I was watching her face when I was doing my down and dirty routine on him. Oh boy, from the look on her face, I was sure she'd turn me into little bits of sushi if she could."

Nancy just laughed. She knew I tended to exaggerate at times but she hadn't seen Makayla's face and I had.

"Has she gone already?" She asked when she'd gotten her mirth under control.

"Yeah, she mumbled something about PMS or something on her way out."

"Maybe that explains her mood."

I perked up a little. "You could be right. Whatever. Anyway, she's headed home."

"That's the last place she should go. The attentions of clan from hell will just make her PMS worse." We both chuckled.

The tales we'd heard about her overbearing and ever loving family were so funny you couldn't possibly make them up. I envied her a little, no matter what she said. You could tell she loved them and their support and approval meant a lot to her. There were just so many of them. I wondered how they all managed to keep track of one another. And in such detail as well.

Shaking myself like a wet puppy, I started walking towards the door. "Alrighty, then. I'll be on my way. I'll go clean him up and give him something to help him sleep it off. Sybil will deliver him to the hotel later today. He should be able to find his own way home."

"Perfect. Makayla set it up so I could gain remote access to his surveillance cameras. The images of the van and you guys picking him up have all been erased from his security files. We should be fine."

"Atta girl. You are the best."

I meant it too. Between her and Makayla, they made all the gadget stuff seem like child's play.

"Well I do try," she said, fluttering her eyelids coyly.

"Right. See you later. I'm seriously looking forward to wiping down that gorgeous hunk." I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. "He's really something, girl."

"Don't I know it? I got a real close up view from up here you know."

"How could I forget, you have the best seat in the house, you little porn queen you."

"Hey! That is exotic movie viewer to you."

I left her there by her pc but that niggle of doubt was creeping back into my mind. I made up my mind to ask Sybil and Sphinx if they knew if Scribe had been keeping some videos for herself. If she was, I wanted in on the action. It was only fair as I had a starring role in most of them.

When I got back downstairs, I met Kevin and Sybil deep in conversation. She had started the process of buttering him up for the donation that we were hoping to get from him. If his level of participation was anything to go by, I would say we had one very satisfied customer on our hands. Without conceit I knew he had enjoyed his time with us over the past few hours. As I drew nearer I could overhear part of their conversation. It seemed he was anxious for a repeat performance.

Sucker!

I knew we'd nailed this one but for poor Kevin, this was the end of the line. I smiled to myself as I left them to it and went to have a quick shower myself. Sybil would get me when she was through.
  13. # SYBIL

I'd almost lost my tongue tonight watching the girls go to town on our guest. It seemed we were unanimous in our assessment of his physical form. The man was fine with a capital F. Robin and Makayla had a lot of fun teasing him but not as much fun as I'd had rubbing my hands all over that lovely body.

Ooh.

I'd creamed myself just looking at him. It seemed like the fun came to an end too quickly. I could hardly believe that forty-eight hours had passed since I went to pick him up. Guess it is true what the old people used to say, time flies when you're having fun.

Robin, that lucky wench, got to wipe him down while I showered and changed and then we would all head off. I was sure he'd be asleep soon as Robin would have fed him his pills. Once we were all set, I'd drop him off at the nearest Primal Inn where he'd be left to recover at his leisure. He'd wake up tomorrow and this will all seem like the best dream he's ever had. The only proof he will have that this ever happened would be the deduction of ninety thousand pounds from his bank balance.

I smiled happily to myself. That had a nice ring to it.

Ninety grand, for forty-eight hours of pure undiluted fun.

The girls and I had no reason to complain, none whatsoever. My smile broadened when I remembered Kevin's desperate attempt to charm me into letting him have a second play date with the Sapphire club. He'd even offered to raise our pay to a hundred and twenty grand per session if I'd let him come back. We should all be flattered.

Unfortunately, tempting as the offer was, there was just no way he was going to get another go. At least not right now.

I mean nothing is written in stone, now is it? I thought with an inward titter.

Maybe in another couple of years the girls and I might decide we needed to hold refresher sessions one last time. You know, for old times' sake. But in all honesty I seriously doubted it. If things continued to go as well as they had been, we'd retire in a year or two. Besides we could only keep this up for so long without having a massive scandal on our hands. So far we'd been lucky. Lucky and vigilant but everyone makes mistakes. I didn't want us to keep doing this until our luck ran out. It could have very ugly implications for both us and our clients.

With my hair still a little damp from my shower, I made my way back to where the girls were seated together, having a bit of a chat. I'd changed into a pair of jeans and a buttoned down plaid shirt. Makayla had headed off home earlier.

I think she must have been one of those kids whose teachers had often sent home with a note for their parents Makayla does not play well with others...

Something seemed to have pissed her off today although she covered it by claiming she had PMS. While that might be true, it's a little strange that it didn't show up all day or even yesterday. Though now that I thought about it, she had been a bit snippy yesterday as well. Whatever the case, I just hoped she got over her snit soon because we simply couldn't function without her input.

"Hey girls, are we set to go then? Does anyone need a ride?"

"No, Sybil, we're fine," Nancy replied, looking up at me with a smile, her green eyes still sparkling with mirth over whatever she and Robin had been yakking about. "I drove down and Robin's hitching a ride home with me. I'll drop her at..."

"...At Edgware station," Robin interrupted, bouncing up and down in her seat. "I can't waste all this fabulousness all by myself at home tonight. I'm going into Soho and I'm going to have me a good time."

"Well, just make sure you can get yourself home in one piece. You can't be too careful these days you know," I cautioned her gently, ever the voice of wisdom.

"I'll be careful, though it would have been more fun if I could convince one or both of you to come with," she added slyly.

"Go on with you, you little minx." Nancy said. "I told you, I am going home and that's it. Home, home, home and nowhere else."

"Ditto," I added hastily as she turned her baby blues on me. "I seem to have a craving for a brambly apple pie and oodles of vanilla ice cream."

"Ooh, that sounds good. Guess the PMS must be catching then."

"No, I've already suffered through mine, thank the powers that be. No, this is just purely a bout of hedonistic desire for the benefit of my sweet tooth."

"And the detriment of your backside." Robin quipped cheekily.

We all laughed.

"Well ladies, I'm sorry to announce that I must love you and leave you, taking the scrumptious Kevin with me. He dropped a whopper of a donation on us by the way."

"He did?" they chorused.

"Unhuh, ninety grand ladies. Ninety fucking grand. We did good girls, we did real good."

Robin stood up and walked with me a little bit of the way.

"Sybil, is it ok if I give you a ring later? There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

"You're not quitting, are you?" I asked her in alarm.

"Oh no," she chuckled. "It's nothing like that. I just wanted to ask your opinion about some stuff that's been bugging me, that's all."

"Well, don't be shy, ask me now. I don't bite, ok I do but I won't bite you," I said with a dirty laugh.

"No." She glanced over her shoulder at Nancy, who I was surprised to see when I followed her gaze, was staring intently at us both.

What was that all about?

"It's better if I call you."

"Alright, but with the night you've got planned for yourself I will not sit up waiting for you to call, missy. If you get in late, just leave it till morning and we can sort it out over breakfast."

"Yeah, that might work. I'll give you a call tomorrow. Thank goodness it's Sunday, I just couldn't bear to have to deal with Belinda today."

"I know what you mean, I'm glad it's not a workday either. I'm happy I'll have tomorrow to lie in as well."

With a last wave to both of them, I got into the van, checked that Kevin was well positioned and unlikely to fall over and bruise himself and slowly reversed out of the drive. In my rear view mirror I could see the girls getting into Nancy's car and easing out behind me. I honked twice and sped away.

****

When I got home, things were quiet, just the way I liked them. I gently eased my way through the common areas and headed straight for my room. As I turned on the lights I got the shock of my life. Eric was lying on my bed in the dark, all by himself. What the fuck did he think he was doing, invading my personal space like this?

I kicked his left foot as it lay dangling off the bed, just a few inches off the floor.

I could barely remember the last time he'd crossed my threshold and I didn't really mind to be honest. All I knew was that I definitely wasn't in the mood to deal with his pouting or tantrums. Not after the lovely day I'd had with the girls.

Seeing that my first kick generated no response, I kicked him again, harder and higher. The snoring that was just one of the many reasons why we had evolved into having separate rooms stopped abruptly. He turned over and looked at me with sleep-glazed eyes.

"Ah, honey, you're home," he said.

"And you must be lost, mister" I replied sourly. "What the fuck, Eric?"

"I was waiting up for you and I got sleepy. I guess I must have dozed off."

"No shit, Einstein! And you couldn't just take your dozy self to your own room and sleep like the bed-hog you are."

"I wanted to talk to you."

I sighed, a deep and heartfelt sigh.

Why did this have to happen to me? Tonight of all nights?

"Of course you did." I took another deep breath to try and calm myself and let it out slowly. "Look I've had a very full day. What's so important that it couldn't wait till tomorrow?"

"Where have you been?"

"Have you lost what little crumbs of sanity you have floating about between your ears?" I asked him, totally taken aback by his question.

It wasn't as if he had any right to question my goings and comings anymore.

What brand of smack has he been smoking and where can I get some? I wondered, amused despite my rising level of irritation.

"Look, if you have something to say just say it and get out. I can't take any hassle tonight. I'm serious."

Eric sat up and pushed his lower half off my abused queen-sized bed so that both his feet were firmly planted on the floor. His handsome face was oddly serious as he looked up at me.

"Sybil, what is happening to us? I never seem to see you anymore, you are almost never home and I don't remember the last time we spent any quality time together."

'Spend quality time together' was Eric's way of politely hinting that he was keen to exercise his husbandly rights. It was so not my problem.

"What's the matter," I asked him snidely. "The hoochy with the G-strings left you hanging or what."

"G-strings? Sybil I haven't a clue what you are talking about. All I know is that I am your husband, I love you and I miss you and tonight I really do not want to sleep alone."

"And all I know is that I simply can't be assed to accommodate your every whim."

"Please, Sybil."

It was the please that did it. Or maybe it was because seeing him all sleep worn and cute waiting for me in my bed assuaged a part of me that had been bruised by finding that piece of butt floss in my home. Or maybe I was just a little bit horny myself, what with the day's activities with the delectable Kevin Bain. Whatever it was, it made me look at Eric with tender eyes for the first time in a long time.

"Eric," I said gently.

"Yes?"

"If you wanted to fuck, all you had to do was ask."

"I'm asking now." He replied, looking at me expectantly. Christ, he didn't think I was going to just pounce on him, did he? He obviously did. I did my best to stifle a petulant inner voice that was whining about the obvious differences between the body in front of me on the bed and the one I'd had my hands on earlier on. The inner conflict made my voice sharper than I intended it to be as I barked out "Well, don't just sit there."

He stared back at me dumbly, not sure what next to do.

"Go on, go get yourself a condom, I don't know where your sausage has been lately and you are not riding me bareback, cowboy."

He got himself sorted in a rush. As he returned to the bed, he started to go on about how much he missed me and how much he loved me, his equivalent for sex talk I suppose, while he reacquainted himself with my curves and lines.

"Eric?"

"Hmm?"

"Shut up. I'm trying to imagine I'm with someone nicer than you. You are totally ruining my fantasy."

To his credit, Eric wasn't even fazed; he just kept on doing his trademark horizontal bop and grind, the randy little bastard.

"That's it. Silence is golden my love. Now, try shifting a little to the right."
  14. # MAKAYLA

It was getting a bit late in the day but as I sat there at my kitchen table watching the birds flit about in my little garden patch and keeping a close eye on the sun, I didn't really mind the passing time that much. If anything, I was willing it to speed by a little faster. I'd been having a Sunday afternoon chat with my big sister Sheila (#4) and it had been going on for some time. It appeared that my activity with the ladies had left me with less time for all the family palavers and the clan had finally noticed that something was up with my participation levels and availability.

So they conferred among themselves as usual and then decided to send Sheila over. The plan was for her to stage an intervention of sorts. I knew the drill. She was to check up on me and make sure I hadn't taken up with any bad guys, inspect the contents of my fridge and cupboards to make sure I was eating alright and saddle me with a project that would give me something to do and so leave me no time to mope about. Moping was particularly frowned upon in our family because moping signified idleness and that was a most grievous sin.

Oh, and I knew that they would be expecting detailed feedback on my general physical and mental state so showing her that I was getting a little frustrated with her well-meant meddling would only bring them down on me in greater numbers and with greater intensity.

Truth be told, I was getting off lightly since it was only Sheila they'd sent over. I shied away from memories of the times when they had invaded my little home in numbers of six or more adults that had one singular focus – Me- and were hell bent on pulling me out of the dumps as they liked to term it.

They all worried over me like I was one of their own kids, never minding that I was a grown woman. I snuck another peek at the sun. Nah, it hadn't fully set yet though with the weather it should get dark pretty soon. That suited me just fine. The sooner it got dark, the sooner she'd have to round up the little family love fest we'd been having and head on home to her own brood. She had four kids waiting for her so I could understand that she had a whole lot of mothering going on at home. Why she felt the need to spread the mothering - and smothering - my way was what I didn't get.

"Are you sure you are alright then, Makayla?" She asked me for the umpteenth time that day.

"Yes, Sheila, I am just peachy. All is well."

"And you haven't been having any bad dreams or any sleepwalking recently?"

I shook my head. Casting back to when I was five, Sheila? You guys must really be desperate, I mused to myself.

When I was younger, I used to have the most horrific nightmares that at the time had been attributed to me spending time with some of my less savoury relatives, although to be fair I cannot remember anything untoward actually happening to or around me while I stayed with them. Maybe it was just my own unique brand of home sickness, who could say?

At a point my folks had taken me to see a child psychologist who had collected a nice bundle of money from them for the weekly sessions we had. Usually, I just went over to Dr Barbie's office where we sat and talked about nothing in particular. At the end of each session, she'd pat me on the head and give me a lollypop. My parents soon discovered that all they were paying Dr Barbie for was a weekly supply of the world's most expensive lollypops and they soon settled for buying them for me directly from Quidland instead.

In time the dreams subsided but I still slept with the lights on, just in case. As for the sleepwalking, as I grew older I'd discovered that I was prone to having episodes when I allowed myself to get totally exhausted. Therefore I took precautions as required and the whole family, including Sheila, already knew this.

"No, Sheila, I'm serious," I replied with a laugh. "I'm fine. No depression, no nightmares, no bogey men hiding in my closet. And I'm sorry I missed the brunch we were supposed to have over at Mark's place but like I told you and Henry on the day, I wasn't kidnapped by gangbangers or abducted by aliens..."

Mark was my eldest brother and Henry was the sibling born immediately before me so we were quite close. To tell the truth I quite enjoyed having big brothers looking out for me and for guys they were really quite sweet in their own overprotective way. They just didn't know when enough was enough. Though I would always be their sister, I wasn't their little sister anymore and they were finding it hard to reconcile themselves to that fact. Sheila was still stressing about the missed brunch, you'd have thought I missed a national assembly or something instead of a simple family gathering.

"And a good thing too because how would we ever come up with the ransom if you were?"

"You could always tell them you'd pay them a nice round figure of, say, a hundred pounds or offer to give them Paul and Rita in exchange, kind of a buy one get one free exclusive offer." I snickered at the thought.

"Paul and Rita? No way. If I was going to swap any of my offspring for you, it would definitely have to be Gavin and Fred. They are the two main terrors that turn my little house upside down anyway."

"Exactly! So if you left them out of the exchange, I'm sure they'd find a way to rescue the rest of your brood. Paul and Rita would never make it and I'm not even joking. Those two put the dork in dorky-ness."

"Well, they get that from their father. You know how he is. It's not their fault that they just happen to more studious than their siblings. I kinda prefer it that way."

"I know you do, big sis. Imagine if you had a house filled with four Gavins." I gave a mock shudder. Gavin could be such a handful at times; you had to wonder what he would be like as a fully developed adult. It made us all just a little worried about the future.

"Hmm, I know what you mean. Even having just the one Gavin is more than enough for me. If I'd had quadruplets and they'd all been like him, I'd simply have had to put them up for adoption or run away from home."

I knew that once I got Sheila going on the subject of her kids, I would have to sit there and feign interest at all costs or bear the consequences which could be quite severe. Without a doubt, I loved all my nieces and nephews, each and every one of them but I had a fair number of them as one would imagine and there was a reason why I was an aunt and not a mother after all. Anyway nattering on about Gavin and his siblings might keep her occupied for a while and take the attention of me and my life or so I hoped.

I ran my hands through my short hair and wondered if I could make my escape by telling Sheila I had to get a haircut. As an excuse, it had worked quite effectively in the past. Unfortunately, I think it had been Sheila I had used it on, just a couple of days ago. Shit! Even my hair didn't grow that fast. I really had to ask Nancy to come up with a new set of plausible lies for me to use in these situations the next time we met up. She was the born storyteller after all. And what were lies, if not stories condensed to their purest forms.

Glancing over at Sheila, I noted that she was just finishing her cup of tea and was looking round at the kettle like she wanted a refill. I could tell she was not yet through with her mission for the day. The look on her pixie face that reminded me so much of the face I saw in the mirror everyday clued me in that something was going on. She had her 'plan' look on. As if on cue her phone started ringing with a catchy tune by about a mama and a hump. Hmm. Guess mama must be a camel. Or have a camel.

"Yes, Betty," she said into her Bluetooth headset.

"Yes, she's right here. No, no, ok." She paused for a few seconds, tilting her head to one side. "Ok," she said slowly, "that might work. Ok, not immediately of course. No, that can't be it."

She listened intently for a few minutes, narrowing her eyes as she paid attention to what was being said on the phone. Knowing Betty, who was my sixth sibling and a major strategist when it came to organising events and people to suit her needs, she was probably giving out an itemised list of instructions for Sheila to follow.

"Yes, yes, ok, I get it. I said ok. Alright, hold on for Makayla and I'll try and get Henry on my other phone. He's supposed to handle the refreshments. Yes, yes, that's right, ok, here she is."

She handed me the phone but switched it to handset mode so I could use it without the headset while she used the headset to call up Henry on her other phone.

"Hey Betty, what's up?" I asked with more enthusiasm than I was feeling at the moment.

"Are you alright, Makayla?" She asked in return, "I haven't seen you in ages."

She made it sound like we'd not hooked up for a couple of months instead of just a few days. I shook my head ruefully.

"I was with you on Tuesday evening, we had dinner together at your place, remember?"

"Yeah, like I said it's been ages. What have you been doing with yourself lately?"

I hadn't told any of them about the Sapphire club for one simple reason. To tell one was to tell all (our family grapevine was a fearful and wonderful thing) and I could just imagine what their reaction would be. No, this was one secret they would not wheedle out of me no matter how many spies they sent to ask.

"Nothing, nothing." I hastened to reassure her. "Just the usual, you know how it is."

"You should get out more. Come and spend some time with me and the girls, you can even go to work from here."

Over my dead body, I thought to myself.

"No Betty, not right now. Maybe around the bank holidays so we'll have time with each other. There is no point in my coming over to your place and going to work from there, we'd hardly get to see each other and it's a further commute for me."

"Hmm. Ok," she conceded. "I'll wait. But you must promise to come over soon."

"I will, I will. Don't worry about me so much. I'm a big girl; I can take care of myself, you know."

"Alright. If you say so. By the way, has Sheila told you about the surprise birthday party we're holding for Mark? It's his fortieth after all and we want to make it special. We'll need you to put in your special touch for the arrangements and the planning. You know, for the venue and everything."

And there it was.

The plan.

I knew they had one and it was a good one, that I had to admit. I made eye contact with Sheila as I said "No worries, Betty, you know I can sort that out easily. Just get me the time and the guest list and I'll get it sorted."

Sheila looked away guiltily and pretended to be totally engrossed in her conversation with Henry.

Huh. The coward.

While Betty carried on, yapping away happily in my ear, I let my mind wander away. I tried to remember what I needed to get together for the next Sapphire gig and how best to plan some new entertainments for our guests. I also wondered if Sybil had gotten us a venue with a pool for the guy who wanted to swim with naked mermaids as he put it.

I sighed quietly as I imagined the stress the tail fins would cause the girls. Naturally, I would have to make sure they had enough buoyancy to stay afloat.

Could Sybil even swim...?

Sheila was making fluttering motions with her hands to catch my attention. She pantomimed switching phones so I interrupted Betty's flow and swapped phones with her. As Henry's deep tones rumbled out of the cell phone, I braced myself for another round of inquisitions and reassurances and consoled myself with the hope that they would surely tire soon. I thought Sunday was supposed to be a day of rest, not stress.
  15. # UNKNOWN SUBJECT – MALE

Death is such a curious thing. I find it fascinating myself, to be honest.

One minute the person is an awesome creation of nature that thinks and breaths and moves, the next they are just a slab of butcher's meat, good for nothing except burial. And liable to stink up the whole place too if arrangements are not made swiftly. I have watched closely at all the deaths I have been privileged to witness - and keeping in mind my predilections, I must confess there have been a good many. Still, it never ceases to amaze me that one can never tell with any accuracy which breath will be their last. Even in hospitals, some people who are terminally ill linger on, clinging tenaciously to life for hours or days or even weeks on end while others expire from the mildest ailment in the shortest period of time.

It is uncanny.

I consider death to be the most exciting, the most sublime of all human experiences. Too bad it is such a fleeting one, over too soon. Agreed, the process of dying itself may take longer than a couple of minutes if one has a gifted hand like mine aiding you on your way but for the most humdrum of passings, the whole affair is over too soon. One minute they are alive; the next they are gone to whatever construct our society and norms tell us is the most fitting.

I believe heaven, hell, the afterlife and all such nonsense are just coping mechanisms dreamed up by their advocates as a way of preserving the sanity of the masses. Because to realise, to understand, to concretely grasp the concept that after living a shit life like so many Homo Sapiens on the planet today, existence comes to an abrupt and appropriately shitty end would simply tear the fabric of sanity into shreds, resulting in chaos and anarchism. So to preserve life as we know it, they invented death as we do not know it, transforming it from an event or endpoint to a transition or journey.

What bollocks!

I'm sitting in my usual chair in my living room, enjoying a mild chardonnay while going over the latest pictures I have collected of the beautiful ladies that make up the Sapphire club. I wonder who came up with that name. I would have gone for almost any other gemstone or precious metal. I mean, really, who even has sapphires in this day and age? Silver, Gold, Ruby, hell even Blood Diamonds would surely have been a more appropriate moniker, especially without the 'club' tacked on at the end...

Hmm.

The Blood Diamonds.

Catchy.

Maybe I will leak that name to the press instead of that archaic and dull Sapphire club.

Oh yes, because if I have my way, (and I will have my way, I always do) the press will definitely be all over this once I am through with these girls. They have been very naughty, naughty girls. I have been watching them for a while now. They think they are so clever and that they keep their tracks well hidden but no one is smarter than I am, especially not a bunch of babes. They have their tricks I'll agree but come on. We are not even in the same league intellectually. I only bother with them because everyone needs a hobby, even someone like me. And because they definitely need to be taught a lesson they will never forget.

They did a better job with their individual call names and I find myself intrigued with one or more of them at any particular time. But I must not be diverted from my purpose. My goal is not to cuddle up to these devious beauties. No, what I am going to do is rock the so-called club to its very foundations and turn their lives inside out. And then, I am going to have myself a lot of fun with each one of them before I finally grant them the mercy of ending their pathetic little lives.

Anyway, being a fair minded individual, my plan is to give them each a sporting chance. Survival of the fittest is essential for progression of the species. It will be amusing to see if their bonds of friendship and loyalty will stand up to the tests I will set them. Oh, I can hardly sit still for excitement. My throat is parched so I finish my drink and refill the glass. My focus is unwavering, my purpose is sure. I have made up my mind and have resolved that nothing will stand in my way. I will leave the strongest of them till last and give her the chance to win her life back.

Oh, I like that. I think I will have a lot of fun.

I sift through the pictures happily as I contemplate that lovely image of one last member standing after all her sisters have crumpled.

But who will it be?

Siren?

Sybil?

Scribe or Sphinx?

The only way I will find out is to start putting my plans in motion. Let the games begin, and let the best gem win. Hurrah!

I do not know why I am so fascinated with death. Could it be because I am weary of life? No, such thoughts must not cross my mind; I must be strong, focused. Precision is necessary. I need to feather my nest while I wait to bring home my treasures. I will need lures for my prey.

Now, let us see if I can get their attention.
  16. # ROBIN:

I'd been sitting there admiring him for the past few minutes while my latte cooled rapidly in front of me, the frothy top congealing into a kind of milky sludge. I took an absentminded sip and grimaced involuntarily but even awful taste of the cheap coffee drink I'd gotten at the terminal wasn't enough to make me move my gaze from his face.

His eyebrows were kind of bushy but they suited his face. He had a gentle demeanour and laugh lines fanned out around his eyes, making him look like the kind of person who enjoyed life and laughed often. Or he could just be very short sighted and squint a lot, too vain for glasses and too stupid for contacts.

"Girl," I asked myself under my breath, "With this half-empty mind-set of yours, is it any wonder you have social integration issues?"

I looked back at the guy. Hmm. He'd make a great Marc Anthony, I reflected. Or an Alexander the Great. Maybe Achilles.

Having just come from the ancient Greek and Roman display at the museum, I had ancient populations on the brain. Though the girls were unaware of this side of me, I often enjoyed pouring over the wonders to be found behind the ancient doors. History still had a lot to teach us and it could all be seen for the price of an admittance ticket which was, when you thought about it, relatively cheap.

Especially when you compared it to the vastness of the visual feast that was waiting for you on the inside. The displays were so majestic and opulent; they gave me a sense of grandeur and pride in human accomplishment that had lingered long after I had left the premises.

I was often awed to think of all they had accomplished in ancient times. Even with the limited technology and infrastructure of the times, they had conquered the world as they knew it and bent nature to their whims.

Things that were common place today - air travel, under water tunnels, the internet - would have seemed like magical tales of the future to the people who had lived in the times of Cleopatra and her Anthony. And yet, they were just part and parcel of human life today. It was the persistence of those who had gone ahead that had brought these marvels into existence and the museum was the best place to see the building blocks of modern society.

"Okay, the time for mooning over random strangers is over," I said to myself. "It's way past time to get a grip, girl." Despite my strong words, caving in to temptation was inevitable and I knew I would surely look at him one more time, in a vain attempt to fix an image of his face in my head.

As I took one last glimpse at the handsome stranger, I was surprised to see the object of my covert looks gazing back at me. From the look on his face, he liked what he saw as well. Well really, what's not to like? I'd dressed with my usual flamboyant style. Under my eye-catching winter coat, my long legs were encased in a pair of slim blue jeans, while my upper half sported a bright yellow top. A pair of high heeled long boots completed the ensemble. My hair was as usual flowing all over me like a glorious red flame.

I raised my eyebrows, he raised his hand and smiled at me and pantomimed joining me at my perch by the door. When I nodded my acceptance, his smile widened. He got gracefully to his feet and allowed me to see the rest of his lovely physique, a move I thoroughly approved of. I could feel my own grin blossoming out of control as he gathered his coat and newspaper and started walking towards me with his wheelie laptop carrier in tow.

"Ok. Act cool, act cool," I instructed myself, trying to compose myself into the essence of cool, calm and collected. And fun. And flirty. And perfect. Down girl!

He was getting closer. I picked up the scent of his aftershave, something spicy with burnt amber and ginseng undertones. It smelt wonderful on him. I opened my mouth to speak as he neared my table – and walked straight past me. Without even glancing my way, he walked right into the waiting arms of a curvaceous blond with model-like hair who squealed with laughter and kissed him on the lips.

Shit.

Well that sucked! I thought, stung. He'd obviously not been smiling at me at all. He'd been smiling past me and I'd sat there, grinning back like a demented loon.

"It's official," I assured myself. "Robin, you are an idiot."

The gentleman probably though I was thick in the head, smiling like that. If he'd noticed me at all, which considering the enthusiasm with which he was still embracing the model-like blond was highly debatable.

"You'd think I was the invisible woman or something," I snorted.

I looked down at my totally unappetising drink and just shook my head. My taste for it had gone the way of my pride. All shrivelled up and totally diminished. I picked up my travel sized handbag and stomped off towards the refreshment end of the terminals at the Luton airport. I needed a proper drink in the worst possible way.

I wasn't in any condition to be picky so I simply entered the nearest eatery I saw with alcohol on the drinks menu. I ordered quickly and sat down on one of the high perch stools overlooking the main concourse. The wall colour and the floors were an attractive, shiny red and the table tops and chairs were a gleaming black. From my spot near the balcony, I looked down at the hustle and bustle of commuters struggling to get to their platforms in time for planned departures of their vessels.

I'd always had a thing for airports. So many interesting people walking around, so many fascinating things to see. If you knew what to look out for, you'd be entertained for hours watching live human drama in real time. You'd see happy goodbyes, sad goodbyes, relieved farewells, fond farewells, exuberant hello's and strained greetings as well. It beat sitting at home watching what passed for reality TV these days at any rate.

I sipped my glass of rosé slowly as I pulled out my cell phone. A quick glance confirmed that I'd had no voice mails or emails and no text messages either. I sighed despondently and continued drinking my wine.

"May I join you?"

I heard a deep voice rumble near my ear. Wary of a repeat of the incident at the walkway I lifted my eyes slowly as I swivelled slowly in my seat to make sure it was me he was talking to.

Wow.

If the first guy with the blond bombshell was a 10, this man was a solid 15. Sharp black suit, crisp pinstriped shirt, glossy black hair with a classic cut and a friendly open face. Pink lips that looked as if he'd borrowed some lucky lady's lip-gloss and damn, was he tall or what? His grey eyes twinkled down at me as he waited for my response while I gaped at him.

"By all means, please do, I mean." I said, recovering quickly from my stupefied state.

There should have been a hottie alert warning this morning, the UK was having an epidemic.

"I was watching you earlier," he said gently. "You seemed so sad."

"Sad? Who, me?" I shrugged. "Well, it was no big deal, just a couple of issues I guess. I get that way sometimes."

"Don't we all," he said with feeling.

"So what's your story?"

He leaned back and looked at me speculatively. I hadn't noticed him when I had entered early, too despondent and self-absorbed, I guess or I'd definitely have noticed him at once. Or maybe he'd come in after I had and that was why. He was such a piece of eye candy, I felt sure he'd have been pretty hard to miss. I wondered if he was model or something.

"I'm supposed to be going to Geneva to meet up with my fiancée."

Aw, Brother! I groaned inwardly. Fiancée. That sounded serious. What kind of rotten luck with guys was I having today? This was no way to bring an end to my man drought. Someone up there was having fun at my expense.

I tried my best to look sympathetic. "Don't tell me..."

"Yep. Delayed indefinitely. I've been waiting for my flight for the past four hours and there is still no information as to when we will be taking off. It's getting to the stage where I am wondering if it is worth my while to wait or if I should just go home and try again another day."

"Well, Geneva is not that far away. You can still make it today."

I tried to sound like I gave a damn but frankly I didn't. I did however give a fleeting thought to the idea of encouraging him to make a stopover for a longer duration so I could show him the sights and sounds but my heart wasn't really in it. Besides there was no way I was going to leave myself wide open like that after the day I'd had.

"Yeah, well it's not really a life or death situation but I did really want to get home today."

"Home?" I asked, with obvious surprise. From the way he spoke he sounded like a pure Brit and I hadn't pegged him as a European from any other country in the EU.

He seemed to surmise the reason for my surprise and answered self-assuredly. "Yeah, Gina and I have moved out there. I only come down to London on business a couple of times a month. I grew up here but now it doesn't really seem like home anymore."

I nodded sympathetically. I knew the feeling. "Well, even when there is nothing special waiting at home, home is still home."

"Nothing special or no one special?" he asked with a laugh.

"Well, both in my case. What I call home these days is," I shrugged as I continued "basically a familiar place where I know I can go to lay my head."

"I can scarcely believe you said that." He shook his head in disbelief. "A girl who looks like you, nah"

"Well, believe it, the guys just do not like me"

"Oh please!" He scoffed.

"I'm serious," I assured him with a straight face.

"Now I know you have to be joking. The men in London would have to be blind and stone deaf as well. Not to mention, Stupid. I don't even know you and I like you." He laughed.

I smiled, feeling strangely at ease with him.

Too bad about the fiancée, huh.

Just my rotten luck. The first decent guy in ages who'd taken the time to sit down and share a drink with me and he belonged to someone else.

Figured.

The guy was fine, friendly and seemed like a lot of fun. And honest too, as he'd come clean about the little lady waiting at home without any prompting on my part. The fiancée was one lucky lady. And she was a bit careless as well. If I had this kind of a man in my life, he wouldn't be travelling a couple of times a month without me.

No way!

I wouldn't let him out of my sight for a hot minute.

I tried to keep my attention focused on what he was saying instead of just watching his luscious lips move.

"My name is Thomas. Thomas Addison."

"I'm Robin, Robin Crestfield."

"A pleasure to meet you, Ms Crestfield."

"The same here," I grinned as we shook hands.

"So what are you doing at Luton today? Going somewhere nice?" he asked.

"Oh no, I'm not travelling today, I'm actually only here to indulge in a spot of people watching."

"People watching? That sounds interesting."

"Well, it can be. Very." I gave him a saucy look. "Especially at airports and stations with international departures. St Pancreas is my favourite."

"Why's that?" He sounded genuinely fascinated.

I looked up at him as I struggled to put my passion into words. It was something I had never tried to do before and I was finding it difficult to find the right words to express myself.

"I guess it is because it's so busy and full of people from all over the world. When people think that they may not see each other for a while or ever again," I paused to look at the door as a couple came in with their infant in a pushchair "their emotions are more visible, more palpable somehow. You can see who is relieved to be going, who's more excited to be left behind, who is concerned about what is waiting on the other side and who is so miserable to be leaving that they wish they could stay."

"Hmm, sounds like you have given this a lot of thought. So how often do you people watch?"

"Well I come here once or twice a month. I use the sights and sounds to distract myself, you see."

"Really? Distract yourself from what if you don't mind me asking." He sounded intrigued. "What from?" He pressed as I remained silent.

I was unsure how to answer him so that I didn't come across as more pathetic than I already did. It was at times like these that I wished I was with Sybil or Nancy. Sybil for her natural aplomb and calmness in any situation and Nancy for her tale-spinning skills. In the end I decided to let the truth out and let him make what he would of it. After all the likelihood of us meeting up again after today were very slim anyway. Why should I care what he thought about me? We were random strangers, just passing time together after all.

"From life I guess, my life."

It was the truth. I did careen headlong through life looking for things that could act as distractions. I needed to distract myself from how dreary my life could be if I let it.

He was looking at me with a keen look of empathy on his face and I hastened to change the subject.

"So what do you do?" I gestured to his clothes "From your attire, I'd say you work in the city."

He laughed easily. "On the contrary I tend to work outside the city every chance I get. I write books, more urban fantasy than adventure or sci-fi, I guess. I write about people."

"Really, then you must really be a damn good writer." I said, repeating my gesture at his attire.

"Oh still about the threads" he said mockingly. "No. I had a meeting with my editor and the head of our publishing house today and I wanted to look my best."

Well I didn't know about his best but the man looked quite fine to me. I had missed a few words as I started to drool over him again, picturing him sitting cosily in my room.

STOP IT ROBIN!

He was still talking.

"I definitely need to take up your hobby of people watching, it seems like it would be a great source of material."

"I suppose so. So what would you write about me?" I asked playfully.

"I'd write that 'The nice looking young lady with the lovely smile took the time to talk to a total stranger over a glass of wine. In sharing his company, she did him a great kindness and in the way that such things go, she earned herself a key that would unlock all the doors that she would meet...''" he laughed as I waved my empty wine glass meaningfully.

I snickered as well. He had a nice voice and when he lent it to narration, it got the listener engrossed in the story. Looking round for the wait staff, he continued, "'...along her way'."

"The attractive young lady" I interjected as the waiter came over and Thomas asked for a refill for both of us. He was drinking red wine.

"Hey, no editing till I'm done," he pouted. "This is my story."

"I do apologise" I replied with a mock bow, "Please, oh wise and knowledgeable master, do continue."

"As the attractive young lady," he wiggled his eyebrows at me "'had no inkling that the gentleman with whom she conversed was actually Hermes, messenger to the Gods and keen to pass the time as he waited for the weather to make up its mind on whether or not the sky would be clear enough for his flight to Geneva to depart and to take his mind off the anxiety he was feeling at the disruptions'." He finished with a smile.

"Not bad. I'd read that I guess. Though I must say I prefer spy stories and thrillers more myself."

"Hmm, I would have pegged you as a chick-lit reader myself."

"I'll read almost any genre I must admit but as far as I'm concerned, a story's a story. It is the telling of the story that makes the difference."

"It's a matter of personal preference, I guess," he replied evenly, "but everyone's got their fantasy."

I wondered at his phrasing that struck so close to home. It was the exact phrase that Scribe used in her correspondence with our would-be clients at the vetting stage. I shrugged it off. It probably didn't mean anything either. With the number of referrals coming our way I would have said a fair amount of people must have heard or read our catchphrase somewhere.

I looked at his lips again and found myself swallowing audibly. The atmosphere at our little table suddenly became tense. I knew what fantasy I was having at the minute but I wasn't sure he would appreciate me sharing it.

Whew.

I knew was still way too young to be having hot flushes over man. Every hormone in my body was doing a boogie dance. I willed myself to put an end to their happy little jig and lifted my gaze to his hairline and then back down to meet his lovely grey eyes.

"Yes, I suppose they do."

He stood regretfully as he drained his glass.

"I really should be going. I need to get to the customer service desk for my airline and find out what the latest info is."

"Yes, well, it was nice meeting you, Thomas."

"Same here. Listen, if you are ever in Geneva, give me a call. I'd love to meet up for a drink or something. You could even spend a while with Gina and I, we have lots of space."

He handed me his card.

"Ok, I might just take you up on that." I smiled back at him as I tucked his business card away.

The short time I'd spent chatting with him had lifted my spirits immeasurably. Speaking of distractions, he'd been a bloody good one.

"I hope you have a nice trip."

"Thank you. You are so kind." He picked up his briefcase and walked away, stopping at the door to wave.

I sat there for a little while, savouring the rest of my drink and the feeling of contentment that had settled over me during our impromptu chat. It was guys like this that made me keep hoping that perhaps the songwriters had it right and maybe it was a case of my not having met him yet.

I looked at the time. 7.45pm.

It didn't seem possible that I'd been at Luton for over four hours but the time was right. Another boring Sunday was coming to an end, just in time for a manic Monday. I bet myself five pounds that I would wake up late again in the morning. Either way my money was safe. No doubt I should have started my commute back home if I wanted to avoid the worst of evening crush on the tubes but I wasn't in a hurry to move. It was a Sunday night after all so I presumed that it wouldn't be that bad. I'd take the surface train going into central London and change along the way. With any luck I'd be home by nine.
  17. # DAVID

I walked off slowly, leaving the pretty redhead at the counter, enjoying her glass of wine. I'd enjoyed our chat and she seemed like a nice person. I would have enjoyed spending more time with her and if things went my way I hoped to do just that but there were a couple of things I needed to sort out first.

After leaving her, I didn't head to the customer service desk though. Neither did I return to the departure lounge. Instead, I walked leisurely down the corridor till I came to the men's room.

After checking to find an unoccupied stall, I propped my briefcase up on the concrete shelf behind the water closet and shrugged out of my suit jacket and shirt. In its place I pulled on a plain black tee-shirt. Pulling off my dress slacks, I changed into a pair of jeans and added a hooded sweat shirt. Having removed my fancy clothing I folded them neatly and replaced them in the briefcase I'd been carrying. I was done with these props.

I then stepped out of the stall and using water from the tap, slicked back my hair and put on a pair of sunglasses. There wasn't much I could do about my shoes so I left them as they were.

Few women noticed a man's shoes anyhow unless they were curious about their shoe size.

I checked out my reflection in the wide mirror that spanned the length of the loo. The harsh lighting in the airport wasn't doing me any favours but with the hood of my sweatshirt up I was satisfied with what I saw. The slight changes I'd made had resulted in a marked change in my overall appearance. I was sure that a casual observer would be unable to identify me as the same guy who had walked in here a little while ago.

Leaving my briefcase with my suit in it on the floor in the cubicle I'd used, I smirked to myself as I imagined the chicken headed response it was likely to elicit from the toilet attendants. Considering the measures in place in the airports and transit points all over the world in the post nine-eleven era, this would probably trigger a security alert.

Good. It wouldn't do for them to get complacent, I thought to myself.

What was the use of having protocols in place if no one gave our security operatives an opportunity to test them? I was helping them do their job to keep us all more secure, I really was.

Whistling under my breath, I took a more circuitous route to return to where I'd sat previously. No one gave me a second glance. I was just one of the faceless thousands that came through here every day. I saw my erstwhile companion pick up her belongings and head towards the platform for the trains to central London. I followed behind her at a more sedate pace, enjoying the view of her hair swaying in counterbalance to the motion of her well rounded rear. We got on the same train and I endeavoured to sit where I could keep an eye on her without being too obvious about it.

My name was David, not Thomas and I would not be travelling to Geneva that day.

Nor was I planning to go there any time in my foreseeable future.

I didn't have a fiancée called Gina either.
  18. # NANCY

I got home tired after a totally unproductive day at my local library. I'd sat for ages at my laptop, simply moping at the screen. I had spent hours scrolling endlessly through blank page followed by blank page. The dialogue was stilted, the imagery was bland and some key ingredient, the final bit of magic, was missing.

It was simply not going the way I wanted it to.

I kept hitting the delete button over and over again. My irritation was mounting with each push. With the never-ending stream of inspiration I was getting from the Sapphire gigs this should not be happening, and very rarely did but something was definitely off today.

I knew what the matter was though- I was in a totally rotten mood. I didn't know why I was so grumpy though.

Makayla's mood swings must be rubbing off on me or something.

I'd read somewhere that women who hung out together tended to synchronise their hormones and monthly cycles in a kind of weird fertility thingy. If there was any truth to that old wives' tale and if this was what it felt like, then no wonder the Amazons were always so pissed off.

Actually if I was really honest with myself I knew what was really bothering me. It was Robin and what that girl could have said to the others. The last time we had all been together I'd had a niggling sensation that all was not as it should be.

After changing into a set of marl grey loungewear bottoms and a plain white tee, I set about making myself a pot of noodles and fished in the fridge for a bottle of milk. It was time for my special remedy of hot chocolate and pot noodles in front of a mindless sitcom. Two hours of this and I was guaranteed to be back to my old self.

As I stirred the cocoa into the simmering milk, I let my mind wander a little. I pictured Robin and Sybil as I had seen them last. Though I knew they hadn't engaged in any lengthy discussions at the time, I knew that Robin would either call or meet up with Sybil later so she could air whatever was on her chest.

I frowned as I tried to remember what had been playing on my screen when she'd come up to the watchtower.

Oh well.

If she had any issues with me or my role in all this I'd be ready and waiting to give her whatever she needed to settle her down. I had learned earlier on in life that the simplest explanations were usually the best for two reasons. One because they were simple and thus easy to generate and easier still remember and two, because they were simple, they were more plausible and thus more likely to be believed.

Besides it wasn't as if I interfered with her expressions as Siren, so she really couldn't bug me about what I deemed necessary to carry out my functions as Scribe.

I emptied my frothy drink into my favourite black mug and settled down in front of an episode of one of the period drama's playing on Channel Five. I had just reached over for the remote to turn up the volume when I heard the front door slam.

Stephen must be home.

I had wondered idly where he'd got to. It wasn't like him to be out by this time. It wasn't like him to be out at all, period. I had never met anyone who stayed indoors as much as he did. It was almost as if he had an allergy to the great outdoors or something.

He stalked in with his coat still on, though he stopped to remove his shoes at the door. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he dropped some envelopes on the dining table and started shrugging out of his coat.

"Hey babe, you alright?" I asked him as I satisfied my need for a major carbohydrate hit, taking deep swallows of my chocolate drink.

He grunted something in reply

"What was that, Hon, I didn't hear you?"

He muttered something else.

It was getting irritating so I simply stopped trying to have a conversation with the cave man that had come home to me that day and concentrated on the chambermaid and the butler on telly who appeared to be plotting the demise of their mistress. I could hear him pottering around in the kitchen and although it was a little petty, found myself being rather glad that I hadn't fixed anything for him to eat. He knew how to cook and there was nothing wrong with his own two hands. If he was hungry, he could jolly well fend for himself. I was tired of playing nursemaid to a full grown man.

"So what are you doing at home?" He asked me in a snarky tone as he settled into his usual spot facing the telly. He picked up the remote and started flicking through the channels.

"Oy, I was watching that, can you turn it back please?" It wasn't like him to be so rude.

He didn't reply, just kept channel hopping, flicking through the channels one after the other so quickly that it soon became clear he wasn't really looking for something to watch, he was just being an asshole. I was seething but held my peace. I focused on finishing my meal and took my dishes to the sink to wash.

"I asked you what you were doing home."

Stephen had followed me to the kitchen and was standing belligerently in the middle of our little kitchen. As I turned to look at him I could see the tiredness and fatigue that clung to him like a second skin but I couldn't bring myself to care. It wasn't my fault he was stuck in his shitty job, now was it? Why should he feel he could take it out on me?

I had my own problems.

"I heard you the first time you asked," I replied, "but I didn't think such a silly question deserved an answer. Where else would I be?"

"Well I am surprised you could even find your way home seeing as you are almost never home anymore," he ranted. "You are always off with those girls you call your friends, or off to see the printers or off to see your agents..."

"Or I'm off at work, trying to earn a living doing something I enjoy, unlike some..."

"No, don't turn this on me. This is about you."

"Is it? Is it really? I don't think so Stephen. I think this is about you and frankly, I think 'this' is a long overdue 'this' as well."

"Oh really," he sneered, coming closer.

I wasn't really afraid; Stephen would never put his hands on me. I knew that but still, his posturing and belligerence were a bit alarming. I wouldn't hold my tongue any longer though because that wasn't who I was and if he thought he could threaten or intimidate me into being silent, he had another think coming.

"Yes really. You are not happy at work, so you want to bring that unhealthy attitude home with you. You're not angry because I wasn't home to nurse your fragile ego after whatever your boss did to emasculate you today, you are angry because I have a life and I am making it better every single day while you are still stay where you are, stuck in a rut, trapped in that quagmire that you call a job and sinking fast."

"Nancy...," he growled warningly but it was too late.

It was as if a dam had burst and there was no holding back the torrent of words that had been building or the emotion behind them.

"You are a loser, Stephen and I have had enough. You cannot face the fact that the reason things are not happening the way you want them to, is because of you and your attitude so you blame everyone else instead. Well I am damn sick and tired of it!"

I was shouting by this time but I didn't care.

"Yeah, well not as tired as I am, you useless hag!" he yelled back at me. "Do you think I haven't tried my best to make sure that I..."

"No, you haven't tried hard enough," I interrupted. "You simply haven't, but I have. I have carried your ass for as long as I could but now, now, it is over."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I want a break, Stephen. I'm saying I'm tired of the excuses and having to tip-toe around your feelings all the time. I saying, I've had enough."

He stood there for a while just looking at me. I met his gaze head on and let him see the fire in mine. I had hidden my true feelings for ages, trying to be supportive and stand by my man but in this moment, the truth was laid bare. I'd had enough of his whiny ass and I wanted him gone.

"Ok then, if that's the way you feel," he said after a long silence.

He went upstairs and packed a bag and without another word or glance in my direction, he walked out of our flat and out of my life.

It was only when I heard the front door slam with a finality that echoed round our little home that I allowed the tears that I had been holding back to fall silently down my cheeks. Though I brushed them aside angrily, they continued to fall, drop by drop till I felt I was drowning in tears, wallowing in my misery.

After endless moments had passed, I dragged myself to the bathroom and washed my face. With a deliberation and calm that I didn't know I had within me, I set about putting my outer shell back together. I picked up my wide-tooth brush and gave my blond locks a good seeing to. The repetitive action soothed me on a primal level. Picking out an outfit also helped and when I was done, I changed in to a pair of slacks and a floral print blouse and sat myself down at my computer once again.

****

It was almost 9.30pm.

I was sitting alone in The Tree House nursing a cold bottle of alcoholic ginger beer and waiting for Makayla. The low lighting in the bluesy jazz club suited my mood down to a tee and the atmosphere, designed to cater to a more sophisticated level of clientele than the average pub reminded me why The Tree House was one of my favourite places to be. I winced as memories of coming here with Stephen on his rare nights out floated through my head. I took another swig of my drink in an effort to drown the images.

"Nancy, my darling, you started without me," a familiar voice whispered in my ear. "Considering the circumstances, though, I'll let you off with a warning."

I looked up to see Makayla standing there with her keys jingling in her hands. She looked lovely as always.

"I needed something to wash the pain away."

"That's alright my love, you are entitled. Just let me get hold of the bar staff and I'll be right behind you."

She shrugged out of her white leather jacket and hung it over the back of her chair.

"I'll be right back."

She sauntered over to the bar, oblivious to the interested glances and comments that followed in her wake. Soon I saw her weaving her way back, carrying two pints of the house cider and another bottle of ginger beer. She placed one pint in front of me and sat down nursing the other one.

"So Stephen left huh?"

As I condensed the events of the evening into a manageable capsule of information, Makayla said little as she drank her cider and picked at the nuts on the table. When I was done she reached over and patted my hand.

"Don't worry love. Things will work themselves out, you'll see."

"Maybe, but I'm not sure I want him back. I love Stephen, I really do and I know I'll miss him but I also feel kind of," I groped for the right word, "free I guess. As if I lanced a boil or something."

"Or cut off a gangrenous limb or something?"

"Exactly!"

"Hmm, I know what you mean. From what you said, this has been a long time coming so maybe you needed to let off some steam."

I took a while to consider what she had said and had to agree that she had a point.

"Meanwhile," she continued with a tight smile, "I was surprised you called just me. Not that I'm complaining but I thought you'd be more likely to call Sybil. Or Robin, especially since you were planning on getting soused. What gives?"

I could sense a slight disconnection between my brain and my mouth. Maybe it was the alcohol that was already buzzing its way around my system and lowering my inhibitions. Maybe I wasn't thinking. Whatever the case, I found myself blurting out the truth: I'd called Sybil but her phone was off. And Robin had said she had a date or something tonight.

"So I'm third choice as usual," Makayla groused. "Thanks for nothing."

"No sweetie, not third choice," I hastened to assure her, trying to soothe her feathers, "I merely happened to call them first, that's all."

"Yeah, like you always do. Don't think I don't notice the clique within a clique thing that you all have going on."

"Don't be silly Makayla, you know we're all friends."

I thought she was joking but her body language was broadcasting loudly that something was off. It seemed I was not the only one with something on my mind.

"Yeah, well it seems to me that some of us are decidedly more friendly than others."

I took a few minutes to try and think of something I could say to patch everything up and it all better but I found I couldn't come up with anything.

I got nothing, I thought.

I finished my drink and started on the cider. Its rich taste caressed my palate and washed away the tangy flavour of the ginger beer. Since Makayla was being true to type and showing her moody side as usual I decided that I had nothing to lose if I asked her about something else that had been bothering me.

"Makayla, you remember the day we were with that guy, what's his name again, Calvin? Kelvin? Or ..."

"Kevin, yeah, what about it?"

"I was wondering if Robin said anything to you about what happened that day."

"What? What would she say?"

I hesitated, not knowing how to tell her what was going on but she must have taken my silence the wrong way.

"I don't know why you all are making such a fuss about that guy. So I liked him, big deal. It's not as if he's the first client one of us as ever liked. If you have something to say, then say it or else get off my back, you hear!" Makayla spouted, with a whole lot of venom and attitude.

I was slightly taken aback by her heated response and I took offense at her tone as well. After the day I'd had I wasn't really in the best mood to deal with anyone's tantrums especially since I was in the mood to throw a little hissy fit myself. Besides I hadn't even noticed she's taken a shine to our client.

Hmm, maybe I need to go over the events of that day again, I mused to myself. Seems like I missed something.

"Ok, ok. No need to get so uptight. I was only asking."

"Yeah but why were you asking? You see, this is what I was talking about. If it was Robin, everyone would simply smile and say 'Oh, that's just how she is'. If it was Sybil, no one would even raise an eyebrow. It's because this time, for once, it's me..."

"Oh get over yourself already, Makayla. What are you trying to say?"

The look she gave me spoke volumes.

"Jeeze, girl, give it a rest O.K. It was merely a question. No need to start world war three over it for heaven's sake."

I was starting to get angry myself. She was edging my buzz away and I resented it. Why had I even asked her over in the first place? I knew how damned temperamental the chick could be.She slammed her glass back down on the table and my glass of cider wobbled in response to the impact.

"Sorry, Nancy, but I think I need to turn in early tonight. I have to get to work in the morning."

"Don't tell me, you must be having another bout of PMS coming on." I queried in a mocking fashion.

"How did you know?" She asked sweetly, narrowing her eyes at me. If looks could kill, I'd have been turned to cinder on the spot.

"Call it a hunch," I told her. I doubt she heard me as she picked up her purse and flounced out of the bar.

For the second time tonight I was left alone with my thoughts but this time I had an edge of adrenalin and alcohol-fuelled bravado to stop me from falling apart. Besides, I was in public. Stiff upper lip my girl, that's the spirit.

I waved over a waitress and asked her to send me another pint of cider. I wasn't done yet.
  19. # SYBIL

All was well in my world as I finished up my tasks for the day and left the quaint little building that housed my office. I did a lot of work there but these days the bulk of my time was spent meeting clients and networking with other realtors and landlords. My ties to the world of real estate were getting more solid with every deal I closed and I was loving every single minute of it. Doing the odd showing and handling the nitty-gritty of property management for my clients served me new opportunities for personal development every day of the week. I was never bored and it sure beat the days when I was trapped behind a desk at the finance firm where I'd started out as a low level accountant back in the day.

I was walking down the street to the multi-levelled parking lot where I left my car when I was going to be at the office for a long stretch of time when a picture in the day's newspaper caught my eye. The man was dressed in the full dress uniform of the Police Department and his quirky grin and brown hair looked very familiar. I was sure that I knew that guy from somewhere.

I stepped closer to get a better look. It was only when I was almost pressed up against the glass that I finally made sense of the headlines that were screaming across the front pages of all the papers in the window of my local news agent.

POLICEMAN FOUND DEAD IN SHOPPING MALL. FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED!

Taking a deep breath to quell the trembling in my limbs, I stepped into the news agent to buy the paper. I juggled my purse and handheld device as I hurriedly fished out enough change to cover the cost of The News of the Globe. Waving an absent-minded goodbye to George, the shop-keeper, I made my way slowly out of the store, reading the article intently as I went along. A number of pedestrians had to swerve to avoid me and I heard a few muttered curses as I nearly collided with a couple that were walking hand in hand down the pavement but I was too engrossed in the information I was getting to mind very much.

The story said that a local police officer had been found dead in the rest rooms at the shopping mall in Watford. He'd last been seen a few nights before he went missing by his partner and his remains had been badly mutilated. His corpse had been discovered by the cleaning staff at the mall in the early hours of that day. Police were asking anyone with information that could help them piece together his last few hours to come forward.

When I finally made it to the car I barely managed to open the door before my legs gave way and I collapsed onto the driver's seat. I was badly shaken and I needed some moments before I could gather my thoughts together. With trembling fingers I sent a text message to all the girls:

"Something serious has come up, we need to meet. ASAP. Will be waiting at Café du Plaza in twenty minutes. This not a joke, Sybil."

I picked up the paper again. The paper named the murdered officer as Detective Jeremiah Hounslow. I'd known him simply as Jerry and he had been a client of the Sapphire Club a couple of weeks back. In fact, looking at the dates in the story, it appeared as if he was last seen the night before we picked him up. I racked my brain trying to remember if anything out of the ordinary had happened during Jerry's time with us but nothing came to mind. Though Nancy would probably have a detailed record of what happened, I remembered that I'd picked him up like I would any other client and as usual when the gig was done, I had dropped him off at a hotel to sleep it off. He was supposed to make his own way home but apparently he had never made it back home.

I swung my legs in and fastened my seatbelt. Taking my time, I drove slowly out of the parking lot and headed towards our meeting point. We were supposed to have a meeting the next day but with the death of one of our clients I felt we needed to meet up urgently. I was confused and I found I didn't really like the feeling.

At the café I met the girls already seated though for once no one commented on my tardiness. They seemed to sense that something major was up. I dropped the paper with its screaming headlines on the table and signalled for Andy, our favourite waiter to come over.

"Hey, I know that guy," Robin exclaimed.

"No shit, that's Jerry." I said.

"No..., Jerry-rub-me –all-over-with-coconut-oil-Jerry? Huh, who would have thought," Robin smirked. "I would never have pegged him as a police officer."

"Me neither," Makayla chimed in.

"Hmm, the persistent devil, wanted a second outing with us by any means possible. I had a little trouble getting rid of him." Nancy mused.

"Ah, now I really remember that dude. Didn't he say he was a teacher or something?" Makayla asked

"Yes, he did tell me he was a Special Ed tutor with Barnet," Nancy said, still perusing the details in the paper.

I could tell the minute the implications of the timing hit her because she sucked in her breath sharply and raised her head to look at me.

"What? What is it?" Robin asked her.

"It would seem Jerry went missing a little while after he left us," Nancy replied.

"What? No way," Makayla said. "That would mean..."

"That would mean it's likely that he never got back home after we dropped him off at the hotel and that if anyone saw us lugging him around, we are going to be in deep doo-doo," I explained helpfully.

"Shit!" Robin said. "You know how there are cameras everywhere these days. How can we be sure that one of those infernal CCTV cameras hasn't picked us up somewhere? We need to go to the police and tell them everything. It's the only way we don't get implicated in all this."

"Don't be so naive," Nancy barked. "What you think, we can happily waltz into the nearest police station and tell them, 'Hey, guys we just happened to be the last ones to have seen Jerry alive, apart from whoever killed him that is. Oh and we drugged and kidnapped him first, but only because he really wanted us to...'? Grow up Robin."

"Nancy's right," Makayla chimed in. "It would be suicidal to turn ourselves in, especially since we have no proof the police can even link us to him at all."

"So what do we do?" I asked anxiously. "I kinda agree with Robin. I think we should hire ourselves a good lawyer and then turn ourselves in. We haven't done anything wrong."

"Don't be absurd. Do you know how many innocent people are banged up each year on charges that had nothing to do with them simply on the basis of circumstantial evidence or some such shit?"

"Nancy, just calm down."

"Don't you tell me to calm down!" she hissed. "You need to calm the fuck down and take a long hard look at the monumental stupidity of what you and Robin are proposing we do. The guy was a cop for crying out loud. He's bound to have had enemies, probably from work. I am telling you this has nothing to do with us and I do not understand your desire to get us involved by hook or by crook."

We all sat in terse silence for a couple of seconds as the waiter came back with tea and scones for everyone. We waited till he had left and then the conversation started up again. If he noticed that we seemed a little tense today, he gave no sign of it as he retreated to the counter.

Robin was the first to break the silence

"So what do you propose, Nancy," she asked acidly. "We just bury our heads in the sand, pretend this never happened?"

"No, but we carry on as usual. If and only if the police link us to him we will simply tell them that we knew him socially and that we engaged in fun and games as free and mutually consenting adults. We tell them nothing."

She looked round at each of us, her green eyes flashing intently as we met her gaze, daring us to disagree with her.

Makayla agreed with her. "I think the last thing we want is for the police to get wind of our activities. Once they get involved, the press will definitely get involved and this is already a high profile case."

"So do we stop for a while, postpone our next appointments and lay low till this blows over?" I gestured towards the paper.

"Nah, I think we should really just carry on as usual. That way, even if the worst happens and we get interviewed by the police, we will be able to prove that we just carried on as usual. It will look less suspicious."

Well, someone's been watching their fair share of CSI. I thought, taking a measured glance at her.

"Besides it will help keep our minds of this, and God knows we'll need the distraction if we are going to pretend this never happened."

She had a point. So despite mine and Robin's obvious discomfort, we agreed to keep our mouths shut and carry on as usual. We rounded up the meeting rather swiftly after that and made plans for the next day when we'd be meeting up at our usual time.

As we filed out of the café, in a rush to get back to our daily routines which had been interrupted, I felt the hair at the back of my neck stand up and I broke out in goose bumps. I whirled around but saw only a teeming mass of people, mostly office workers on their lunch break.

"What's the matter, Sybil?" Makayla asked me.

"I could have sworn someone was watching us just now," I replied, still glancing around uneasily.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Nancy huffed. "Nobody is watching you, nobody is watching us. Just put this whole think out of your mind."

My gaze met Robin's and I could read in her baby blues what I was sure was reflected in my eyes as well.

There was no way I would be putting this out of my mind for a long while to come.
  20. # MAKAYLA

I was on my best behaviour, I really was. Despite the fact that I was tired, bored and frankly disgusted, I was doing my best to be a good sport and not run wailing into the night like a banshee the way I really wanted to. It was my fault I was here in the first place so I actually had no one to blame except myself but knowing that didn't ease my pain at all.

I'd let slip to Sheila that I didn't have a plus one for the birthday bash that we had planned for Mark and she'd told my other sister, Tasha, naturally. So Tasha had taken upon herself to arrange a blind date for me with one of the guys she knew from work. Just so I'd have someone to bring to the birthday bash. I can't be sure that Tasha and I see men in quite the same way but there is no accounting for taste so I really do not know what to think.

This guy she set me up with was a total nightmare.

Make that NIGHTMARE. Seriously, he was every single girl's worst fears come to life in humanoid form.

Do people like this guy qualify to be human? I thought sourly to myself.

His name was Ian. Ian Owens. He was short, baldy and had a very bad attitude problem, just like most of the short men that I'd had the pleasure of knowing in my little life. Within five minutes of my sitting down with him I could tell that he had a very derogatory opinion about women generally and was just so full of himself to boot. I could tell from the first 'baby doll' that I would loath him but for politeness sake (and for Trisha's sake), I tried my best to hide my feelings. That didn't seem to be working too well.

To add to his considerable charm or the lack thereof, he seemed to have ticks in his pubic hair as I noticed that he kept scratching his crotch. Or maybe he was just checking to make sure his tool hadn't fallen off.

I tried to keep my gaze on his face but the leer on his face kept making me want to retch. Seriously, the guy couldn't get a clue even if I sold him one on a buy-some-get-some-free offer. I shifted my gaze to the table cloth but his thick meaty fingers started drumming on the chequered material like sausages.

Ugh!

Despite my best efforts, I could tell that he'd noticed my growing antipathy towards him. Perhaps his skin wasn't as thick as I first thought after all. Bully for him, I guess. We ended up having a row over the way he treated the wait staff. I mean, sure they are paid to provide a service and yes, we'd paid for that service, but slavery went out in the dark ages for Christ's sake.

"A little politeness wouldn't do you any harm," I told him after he had verbally abused the second lady that had come to our table.

Things went downhill rapidly after that point until finally I was relieved to see him fling his napkin down on the remains of the meal he'd been gobbling down like the porky piggy he was.

"Don't need your attitude love, now do I? So, I'll tell you what..," He leaned forward, pointing his pudgy fingers at me for more emphasis as he glared. "Keep the drama and enjoy the rest of your meal. I've got to bounce."

I could hardly hide my relief. "Yeah, you do that. Keep bouncing about, you pathetic reject. I'll have a much better time of it if you do."

"I've met girls like you before" he sneered angrily. "Years from now you'll still be alone, old, wrinkled and dried up and wondering where it all went wrong. When you get to that point, remember this day Baby, this day you hear me, because today was the day that could have changed it all around."

"Oh, you arrogant son of a bitch." I was totally incensed. "I tell you what," I looked him over like he was a bit of rotten meat that had been left in my front room carpet, "Why don't you just shut up and fuck off, you egocentric little shit."

That seemed to get his attention as he stood there gaping at me like some primitive excuse for a fly-trap.

"I tell you what," I added with a killer smile, pointing a well-manicured finger at his chest, "Keep an eye out for me in the future. And when you see me, old, wrinkled and alone, remember that if you approach me, even then I will still say No, you stupid fuck head, even if you were the last man left on earth. Now piss off."

After all that, I was out of breath but happy I had spoken my mind. Not having the words at the right time would have made me more upset later on. This was better. At least I had put the silly man in his place.

"You just keep telling yourself that, Sweetheart" he said as he stalked off like a duck with wet feathers.

Well, that went well, I mused wryly.

Another disastrous blind misery date that I had Tasha to thank for. I really did not know why I bothered. Or perhaps I did. It might be because once I succumbed to Tasha and Betty's matchmaking skills and went on a date with one of the losers they invariably dragged home, I indirectly bought some time to myself after the date. They seemed a little reluctant to start on me again once I gave them full disclosure of what happened with the latest guy that they'd said I 'simply had to meet'.

I smirked as I recalled the look on his face as he was leaving. Priceless, it was.

Ah, if only I'd brought a camera.

It wasn't as if I deliberately went out of my way to mess up the dates, it was just that I didn't really care enough to try to impress anyone these days. I lived life on my own terms and anyone who wanted to get to know me had to do so without making my feel as if I had to change myself to be with them. If they did, the results were rarely pretty as evidenced by the gentleman who had just stormed out of our date.

I caught the serving girls giving me sympathetic smiles and glances. I could tell they were relieved the obnoxious oaf had gone though. Their shift had just gotten a whole lot better. I had to admit it'd made me heave a sigh of relief as well. I wondered what they must think of me. I probably seemed desperate for human company, seeing the prize specimen I had sat down with.

I wished I could find the perfect guy, I really did but who was I kidding. I was realistic enough to know that the odds of that happening in this day and age were worse than the odds of my winning the national lottery. It didn't bother me on most days but something about what that arrogant son of a bitch had said rankled.

With another sigh, I remembered the cute client that all the girls were giving me grief over. Seriously, if Ian had been a tenth as attractive as he had, I would have understood why Trisha had set me up with him, but as things stood, I just couldn't see it, not at all.

I turned back to my meal, determined to enjoy what was left of it. After all, I would definitely be paying for both our meals now, wouldn't I? The cheap bastard had left me with the bill. He looked like the kind of person who would skip out on a payment if he could; he had that shifty look about him.

What was Tasha thinking, setting me up with a guy like him?

I lifted my wine glass and took a sip of my white wine. On the plus side, the food really was excellent although at £22 per person, it damn well should be. I decided I would have both our deserts as a consolation prize. I had heard that the chef did a mean Crème Brûlée.
  21. # UNKNOWN SUBJECT – MALE

I am sitting in the quiet park that is a few minutes' walk from the home of one of the beautiful ladies that are currently all I can think about. For a winter day, it is a surprisingly mild and sunny day though it is a little cold. All around me, the trees are stark and bare and the grass is reduced to a few tuffs of sickly green sprouts here and there. Still, like most places on the planet, there is hope that winter will end and new life will start again in spring. The assurance that the world will keep on turning and the seasons will keep changing is one of the few things that has remained constant over the years and even that is changing, what with the threat of global warming and all. This thought depresses me and I turn my ruminations to more pleasant thoughts.

I have spent a considerable amount of time following the activities of my Blood Diamonds as I like to call them. It has been a very interesting time. The four charming ladies do get up to a lot of stuff and I must say they are a very lively bunch indeed. This is all very exciting and I must commend myself for my choice. It demonstrates again what flawless taste I have.

I take a sip from the travel mug I have in my hands and allow the mellow taste of Nescafé's Irish coffee blend to caress my throat. For an instant coffee, it tastes really good and this is as good a place as any to indulge myself.

Though I do have other activities to pursue, I have used all the means at my disposal to keep a close watch on the ladies and I have discovered quite a lot of information. I know where they live, where they shop, and have discovered a lot of their likes and dislikes. It pays to know what they are up to. Collectively and individually, my ladies all have quite a lot going on at any given time. It has taken a fair amount of juggling to keep on top of things but I must say I am doing a very good job of it. Sitting here enjoying my coffee I am sure I will soon be rewarded with a glimpse of my quarry.

Though we would definitely call them a bunch of very naughty girls, I have found that some of them have been a bit naughtier than others. Thinking about meeting them, talking to them and being with them makes my mouth water. It appears that there is more to these beauties than meets the eye. I will devote myself to plumbing their depths.

Heh, heh, heh.

I like that idea.

Over the past week I have noticed some minor fissures developing in the troupe and I am bending my thoughts towards the best way to exploit these tiny fissures till they result in gaping craters that will blow the whole group wide open. Divide and conquer has always been a very effective strategy.

A dog walker stops to scoop up the poop left behind by the small black hound he has on a leash. I watch as he tidies the mess left behind by his best mate and disposes of it appropriately. The mundaneness of his actions suggests this is a normal routine for him. It however makes me cringe to imagine myself in his place. Just the thought of the smell makes me want to barf. Besides, I hate dogs, the pretentiously friendly and overbearing beasts.

If I was to have a pet I'd probably go for a snake.

Or a newt.

Something reptilian anyway.

I find their cold blooded natures attractive and their scales are beautiful indeed. The dog walker glances my way as he marches off with his pet in tow. I smile to myself as they saunter off down the path. He doesn't realise it but he is actually the one on the leash. The dog is just living the life with his human slave towing the line and granting him his every wish.

Dismissing thoughts of the little canine tyrant from my mind, I refocus my mind on sifting through all the info my recent activities have unearthed. On the home front, each of my ladies appears to have a lot to handle as well. Their affairs are extremely volatile but I have implicit faith that my little darlings will be able to handle the pressure.

Hmm.

Perhaps I could help out in some little way.

I quickly nix that idea. I don't want to be too precipitate in my actions. This is a game that I intend to savour like a finely cooked meal, not rush over like a fast food burger. I think I will sit back and watch for a few days while I allow the seeds of discord to germinate at a natural and even pace. Then and only then will I strike - at the most opportune moment.

Oh what fun this promises to be!
  22. # ROBIN

We'd gathered as usual at our spot in the café. In spite of our collective misgivings, it seemed that Nancy and Makayla would have their way and we would be going ahead with our plans for the weekend. We had some entertaining to do in the next couple of days and it was imperative that we stuck to the plan. I was still not wholly convinced that we should not alert the police to our involvement but for the sake of peace, I was keeping mum.

For once we were all on time and Sybil had done the ordering for us, adding delectable muffins to the menu as a well-deserved treat for us all. Though we all grumbled a little about the damage it would do to our curves, we devoured each one, down to the very last crumb. While our sugar high was still giving us a buzz, we turned to the business of the day.

Nancy was in full Scribe mode. She revealed that we had two gentlemen to entertain and that their names were Tony Purcell and David Carrel. Tony was a plastic surgeon with a kinky side and David was an accountant who worked with the National Trust. They both sounded solid.

As Nancy outlined the specifics on each one, I allowed my mind to drift. There was no hiding the fact that today's meeting lacked the normal exuberance our meetings usually had but there was nothing we could do about it. In the light of recent events, our enthusiasm was waning and perhaps it was time for us to take a break. God knows we'd earned it.

Makayla glanced over at me.

"Robin, are you sure you are alright? You've barely said two words since we got here."

Though her concern was understandable, I resented her bringing my apathy to the attention of the group.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, just a little stressed."

"And understandably so," Sybil put in protectively.

That was Sybil, our big mother hen.

"I still think we should take it easy and booking two gigs to run over the next few days is not my idea of taking it easy."

She looked pointedly at Nancy while she spoke.

"Scribe," I started, "She has a point you know. Why are we doing a twosome this time around?"

"Look it's alright ok. I promise everything is under control. Two or one what's the difference anyway? It frees up more time for us next week. And I think we could all use a little rest. You girls are looking a little peaked."

As Makayla bristled under the implied critique and I opened my mouth to give her a blistering reply, she took the wind out of our sails by adding

"Besides, the second guy booked in late and we already have appointments for next week booked in advance."

"So why didn't you tell him we were already booked?" Sybil inquired quietly.

"Because he said he was going through a particularly rough time now and urgently needed the distraction. He got my number from a friend and promised to give us a cool two hundred and fifty thousand for our efforts."

Despite my concerns and moment of pique, the huge amount made my eyes pop.

Wow.

If I was a cartoon character, I'd have currency signs flashing where my pupils were supposed to be. I looked round at the other girls. They were equally stupefied. To have such an offer before a client had even sampled a gig was unprecedented. His friend must have really given us one glowing referral.

"Relax girls; I know what I am doing. It won't even be that taxing because his list was rather mundane."

"Yeah?" Makayla asked.

"Oh, Yeah," Nancy confirmed.

She swivelled her computer round so we could all look at the said list. I barely glanced at it as she continued.

"All he wants is a lap dance or two, to listen to some music in the company of scantily clad ladies and to talk."

"Define talk." Sybil asked warily.

I didn't blame her.

Who'd pay that kind of dough just to talk?

"Just talk, inane conversation, he said more than anything he wants the distraction. Said he wanted to be distracted from his life. On the phone, I got the impression he's a little depressed but not totally round the bend."

Hmm, my soul mate.

I thought to myself, thinking back to my conversation with Thomas. It looked like a lot of people were living lives that they needed to be diverted from. Suddenly, I found myself wanting to be alone and decided to make a quick exit.

"Ok, girls, listen I have to run." I told the ladies. "Jeannette has been breathing fire down my neck all day and I don't want to give her any excuses to rant at me today."

I stood and shook out my hair. I could tell from their faces that they weren't really buying my excuse but I didn't really care.

"Alright my love," Nancy said. "But remember, nice and early on Sapphire day, we start at 4pm so we can pick up both of them within hours of each other."

As I left them there I couldn't help but wonder about the odd tension I had noticed between Scribe and Sphinx. Those two usually seemed as thick as thieves but the dynamic was a little off today. We'd only spent a few minutes nattering about our lives but I remembered that Nancy's guy had packed out a couple of days ago and Makayla had been stressing about some humongous family event she had coming up.

Ah, no wonder things are out of whack.

I shrugged as I stepped out onto the street, tightening my scarf around my neck. We were all out of sorts, what with Jerry's death and all. That I hadn't even bothered to look at Scribe's pictures of our next guests showed just how distracted I was. I just hoped they'd be cute. It would help to make their time with us go faster.

*****

I was feeling a bit better by the time the pickup day rolled around. It was time to get to work. The girls were right. Jerry had most probably been killed in the line of duty, there wasn't anything we could actually tell the police that would be useful and we just might get caught up in the nasty business if we tried to be too helpful. We were right to stay out of it altogether.

I picked out an olive green top with silver tassels that I had gotten from Romanov Originals. It was a tunic shaped blouse that clung to my curves and suited my colouring quite well. Standing in front of my mirror I twisted back and forth trying to assess the view from behind. It was long enough that I could get away with just pulling on some tights and adding a pair of khaki coloured heels with a matching clutch bag. I hummed softly under my breath as I pinned up my hair in a style that guaranteed a captive audience when I chose to unpin it.

It was time to roll. I had just gotten to my door when I heard the honk of a car outside. As I stepped out of the house I saw the glowing end of a ciggy as the man smoking it stood under the streetlight a couple of doors down from our apartment building. I couldn't see his face as he raised his arm in a half-hearted salute and turned and walked away with a slow, unhurried thread.

Nancy honked again, two sharp bursts to get my attention and I scurried down to the car. I was definitely in a hurry to get myself out of the cold and into the relative warmth of the car. We were right on time.

"Who was that?" She asked curiously as I folded my long limbs into the cramped space in the front seat.

"Do you know, I have no idea," I replied.

"You should be more careful, Robin." She scolded lightly.

"Yes mam," I said in a mock school girl voice. "I know better than to talk to strangers."

"Well, it's true, you know. Hertfordshire is no longer a rural area you know. We've become quite cosmopolitan and as an urban centre, we have our fair share of crime."

"I know, I know already." I wasn't in the mood to continue the conversation and we soon lapsed into silence.

I turned to gaze out of the window as we sped through the backstreets of Hertsmere on our way to the rendezvous with the other girls. The GPS navigator was glowing on the dashboard as we made our way towards our target. 'Destination in twenty minutes' was displayed at the bottom of the tiny screen. I wriggled slightly in the seat, trying to ease the kinks in my neck and shoulders and get comfortable. We still had a bit of a drive to go. I wondered what kind of accommodation we'd have today and chastised myself silently for not paying more attention the day before.

Sybil and Sphinx were on pick up duty this evening for David. Later tonight, Scribe and I would pick up Tony. We were pairing up tonight, to be safe. With Jerry's demise still a source of concern for all of us, we were not taking any chances. We'd decided to limit our exposure at the houses and stagger our pickups so we'd have a little time to breathe.

My thoughts returned to Nancy's warnings.

Sheesh.

You'd think I was a teenager the way the ladies all carried on. I knew they were protective of me and I appreciated it but anyone who'd stayed the UK knew that the days of it being an urban paradise were long gone. Forget what the politicians had to say about the UK being the multicultural centre of the world, a centre for tourism and the last bastion of the free world. It was by no means paradise on earth. We'd all lost our vision of utopia and all that remained was the gritty reality of life in a fast moving and often hostile environment.

I'd survived this long by being smart. I didn't take unnecessary risks and I was as careful as I could be. Still I couldn't help but wonder: who was that smoking at the lamppost?
  23. # DAVID

Well, I try to keep an open mind but the stuff these ladies have going on has quite frankly blown my mind.

Wow.

Who would have thought such things were going on right here in the heart of London. When the lady answered the phone and asked me if I had any special requests, I didn't know what to think. I just said no. I was alright with the house special whatever that was. Turned out that the house special was really extra special. In the past few hours I felt as if I'd been turned completely inside out and then back again. I felt well rested and energised all at the same time. There was only one snag.

Robin, my redheaded friend from the airport, was rather ticked off to find me there, literally under her nose (and other parts of her luscious anatomy) when she turned up for work today. If you could term what these talented gals do as work.

I'd consider it more a vocational thing myself, I chuckled privately, hastily smothering my amusement as the lady in question shot me a dirty look.

Jeeze, she was pissed alright. I did my best to placate her.

"Ah, Robin, don't look at me like that." I said, affecting a little boy lost look that'd always helped me out of hot water in the past. It didn't thaw her out one bit. In fact it seemed to make her more incensed.

"Don't talk to me, you slimy piece of scum!" she snarled.

"Why are you so mad with me?"

"I'm not mad, Thomas or David or whatever you are calling yourself today," she snorted.

Oh-ho. I'd forgotten she knew me by a slightly different moniker.

"David is my middle name" I lied smoothly. "But most people called me Thomas."

She paused for a moment while she digested that little nugget.

"I see. Well, like I said I'm not mad, Mister, I am outraged and a little disappointed too. And disgusted to find you are a pig like all the others."

Huh?

I was a little lost. Didn't have a clue what she was on about.

"So, how is, what's her name...Gina, wasn't it. Yeah, how is dear Gina? And do tell me, what's the weather like in Geneva? How's the book trade doing? Don't tell me, you are here researching a new book," she tacked on, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

Aw, man, how could I have forgotten the fictional fiancée?

Sloppy my man, really sloppy.

She'd definitely caught me out twice already. I scrambled to recollect what else I'd told her about myself that day. Her superb memory was proving to be detrimental to my cause. On another level, I couldn't help but be a bit chuffed that she'd remembered so much about me following our brief interaction. It showed definite interest on her part and I was determined to try and play on that.

"I'm having a lot of stress in my life right now, Gina was cheating on me," I blurted out.

Her face took on a mixed expression of disbelief and horror. I continued as if I hadn't noticed.

"I think all the travelling I've been doing lately is taking its toll on our relationship."

She stood there looking at me as if she wasn't quite sure if she believed my tale of woe or not so I tried to butter her up.

"Seriously, I have been so stressed since we last met. My deal with the publishing house fell through, the editor and I had a major difference of opinion."

I sensed I was laying it on a bit thick but it seemed to be working.

"I got the number for your group from a friend so here I am." I finished lamely.

Her expressive blue eyes seemed to be boring straight into my skull but I remembered how impressed she'd seemed at the airport when we'd first met. I decided to wait and just sweat it out.

She surprised me by stepping forward to give me a full frontal hug, a proper cuddle. I wasn't sure what this meant but I wasn't about to miss an opportunity to be close to this lady. She could literally be the answer to my prayers. And she smelt good as well. I could feel blood draining from my head and redistributing itself to raise my blood pressure in other areas.

The other ladies filed past, giving us a quizzical glance or two but generally keeping mum. Robin whispered that she'd be right back and went to talk to them. I watched them idly through the open door while I waited for her to come back.

They were too far for me to hear what they were saying but there was a lot of gesticulation and heated talking going on. My red head seemed to hold her own though and a short while later she returned to my arms.

"Let's go, I'm taking you to a motel."

"A motel huh? Kinky." I grinned.

"Yeah, a night's stay in a motel is complimentary for the guests of the Sapphires," she responded. "Though usually, our guests are fast asleep when we drop them off there but..." her voice trailed off

"But what?" I prompted, wondering what she meant to say.

"Well, let's just say that policy might be under review at the minute."

"Why's that?"

"Look, do you want to go or not?" she asked. "I really have to get going."

"Sure, let's go." I answered.

She led the way to a grey town car and opened the back door. I got in and made myself comfortable. To my surprise she joined me in the back seat. At the same time, one of the other ladies slid into the driver's seat and fastened her seat belt. Our eyes met in the rear view mirror but she didn't say anything. Her cool green eyes seemed to be assessing me intently. I wondered how I measured up. From the expression on her face I wasn't sure I was getting any favourable reviews but who cared? I glanced over at Robin but she seemed lost in her own thoughts so I just sat quietly and watched the scenery fly by as we drove into town.

She dropped us off at a nearby Travel Motel. They had already checked me in, how thoughtful of them. I had no luggage so we made our way up to room 211 with a bit of unseemly haste. Once past the door, we were all over each other. The next few hours flew past in a blur. I lost count of all the places we went at each other.

Like the song said, we did it on the bed, on the floor and up against the door.

She was fantastic.

I wasn't too bad myself.

Sometime later, after the world had stopped moving, I rolled over to look at her and found her gazing back at me. I ran my hands through her wonderful hair, loving the feel of her luxurious length of red hair trailing through my fingers.

"Hey gorgeous," I whispered, my voice deep and husky.

"Hey yourself," she whispered back.

"I have to go, you know," I told her gently.

"Where are you headed?" she asked, getting up and padding towards the en-suite.

I decided to keep the myth about my travel plans alive for a bit longer.

"I have to be in Geneva tomorrow," I checked my wristwatch, "I mean, this morning by ten so I better hustle."

I dug in my back pocket for one of the bogus business cards I had done up at the self-service machine at Watford shopping mall and handed it to her. They were good quality too for the price - twenty cards for four quid. A relative bargain.

She took it gingerly, looking at it like a rattlesnake that might strike her given half a chance.

"Can I have your digits?" I asked, pulling out my cell phone.

"Nun –huh," she shook her head. "I don't give out my number that easy."

"Why's that?"

"You always ask me that. -Why's that?" She clarified when I frowned in puzzlement. "Anyway, call it a matter of principle."

"I want to see you again." I said, crossing the room to stand in front of her.

"Oh Yeah?" She asked, folding her arms across her middle defensively.

She wouldn't meet my eyes and for some reason I found that disturbing. I lifted her chin with my index finger until I was able to look into her eyes.

"Yeah," I replied quietly.

"And what happens when you get home tonight huh? What do you tell Gina?"

"I'll think of something."

"And I'll think about calling you. I have your number." She waved my card at me.

I had to be satisfied with that.

"I'll be back in London by the weekend," I told her. "Please call me if you can."

She mumbled something noncommittal.

Oddly formal, considering how we had spent the last few hours, we said our goodbyes and I left the room without looking back.

I really liked her. Too bad she was mixed up in all this. I tried to console myself by thinking that sometimes a man simply had to do what a man had to do. The thought wasn't as comforting as it was meant to be.
  24. # MAKAYLA

After Robin, that little nympho, went off with the other client, we all turned our attention to the one left with us at Sapphire central for that night. Or rather, the other girls turned their attention to Tony Purcell and I pretended to go along with them. I should have known better. Those girls are not dumb and they soon called me on my absent-mindedness. Naturally this pissed me off, majorly. It didn't help matters that Robin chose that time to return with a smirk on her face that said she'd been a wildcat and she'd had lots of cream.

"Well?" I asked of Nancy and Sybil, when they only smiled welcomingly at the little flirt.

"Well what?"

"Well aren't you going to talk to her about her attitude and the need for her to keep her mind on the job?"

They both shrugged as Sybil replied "No, not really."

"Well why not?"

"Because when Robin is here, she is Siren one hundred per cent and she does what she needs to."

"You mean she lets her skanky ass hang out all over the place?" I asked snidely.

"Hey! Who are you talking about girl? My ass isn't skanky. Sexy, yes, boo-tee-full, definitely but not skanky! Not skanky at all." Robin's cheerful interruption did nothing to improve my mood.

"Whatever. I can see you all are ganging up on me again."

"We're not ganging up on you," Nancy said firmly, "but you do need to get your act together. Something has been off with you lately and..."

"Something's off with me? Something's wrong with the lot of you, you mean!" I screeched.

"Yeah maybe," Sybil allowed, "I mean we all have our moments. But you are the only one who seems to have a permanent case of PMS around here."

"Really? Well, let me tell you something, just because I am not willing to jump the bones of every Tom, Dick and Harry that waltzes through our doors, it does not mean that there is something wrong with me."

"Yes it does," Robin said with a cheeky grin. "It means you aren't getting any and that's weird girl. Really weird."

"You know, you could be on to something, Robin," Sybil said jokingly. "It just might be that our super-geek's unresolved anger management issues are stemming from a decided lack of uh-hmm..." she tailed off meaningfully.

Oooh.

I was getting really close to blowing my top.

I'll show them anger management.

"Girls," Nancy called urgently, "You need to take a look at this."

"Don't we know this guy?" Sybil screamed then clapped her hands over her mouth even as her eyes bugged out.

With a sinking feeling on my insides, I slowly turned to face the screen. The news was on and the picture of a familiar grin nearly broke my heart. His face was plastered all over the screen. Kevin Bain, the client they had all given me grief over. Nancy walked over to the TV and turned up the volume. The newscaster's voice echoed in the unnaturally quiet room.

"... Found dead in a restroom in the Columbine & Harlequin centre in Watford. The police are urging the general public to come forward with any information that they think may be helpful. I must warn that the images that we are about to show may be distressing to some viewers."

The picture then cut away to show the police tape around the shopping centre and grim-faced police personnel walking up and down. They showed clips of his badly mutilated remains and the bloody cubicle where his body had been stuffed.

I stuffed my hand into my mouth to stifle the urge to scream. I heard Sybil gagging beside me and then she rushed off to the bathroom. The sounds of her lunch coming back up did nothing to ease the tension in the room. We all felt sick as well.

I moved over to the two-seater on the other side of the room and sat down slowly. Try as I might, I could not remove my gaze from the TV though the news had progressed to other stories. It just didn't make sense. Kevin had been so vibrant and full of life. And now, scarcely over a week since we'd seen him, he was dead.

Robin said what we were all thinking but reluctant to say.

"Just like Jerry, just like Jerry," she said over and over.

I wasn't even sure if she knew she was speaking aloud.

"This can't be a coincidence," I said. "Something is going on."

"What do you mean?" Nancy asked me.

"What do you mean, what do I mean? Are you dense?" I asked her.

"No need to shout girls, we need to sit down and think," Sybil said from the door.

She still looked green around the gills and I was sure the rest of us were not looking much better.

I gestured angrily towards Nancy. "There is no need for her to sit there and pretend like she can't see that when two of our clients are killed in a similar way in less than a month, we have a problem. How can she not see that?"

"Don't talk about me as if I am not here," Nancy ground out. "I can see why it would look strange but for all we know they were friends or colleagues or were referred by the same person. Most of our clients come to us by word of mouth after all."

What she was saying made sense but I wasn't ready to hear it.

"Whatever. I don't care if they were twins. This is no good. We need to do something."

"What should we do? Go to the police? Run out of town? Commit mass suicide?" she inquired sarcastically.

"Don't be such an ass," Robin replied chidingly. "Makayla's right, you know. We need to take a break for a couple of weeks and take time to assess the situation."

"Whatever for? What good will that do?"

"I don't know, Nancy, I don't know. But I do know that I am not doing any more gigs until the person who did this is behind bars." Robin had made her mind up.

"I agree." Sybil said

"So do I," I added. "We need to chill."

"Well I don't. I think it is important for all of us to just continue with things as usual."

"Fine, then you can run the gigs by yourself, Scribe."

I looked down as a reminder pinged on my phone.

Shoot!

Today was the day we'd planned to have Mark's surprise birthday bash and there was no way I could bail, though the Lord knew I was in no mood for a party.

"Girls, I have to leave," I said reluctantly.

"You are leaving? Now? What do we do with Tony?" Sybil asked anxiously.

"Let Nancy entertain him," I threw over my shoulder as I walked away.

If only they knew that I would rather have stayed there with them than face my clan in all their manic glory. I sighed gently to myself as I left the building. I had to hurry home for a quick shower and a change of clothing.

Wrapped in my towel, I sat in front of my mirror for ages trying to hide the worry and stress on my face behind oodles of dramatic makeup. The silver toned sheath I had on was a perfect foil for my complexion tonight and I added a pair of red heels to finish off my attire. I glanced at the clock. I was already cutting it very fine time wise so I hustled my way downstairs and out of the house.

When I made it to the Vineyard where we are hosting the bash I could see that the clan had encountered no problems with settling in and they were making themselves at home. The hall was decked out with colourful ribbons and balloons. I mouthed an apology to Sheila about my tardiness, citing work-related issues. I think she bought it.

"Don't worry about it, just learn not to work too hard," she yelled in my ear, struggling to be heard over the music the DJ had blasting out from large speakers situated all over the room. "You need to take time for yourself. Have some fun. Have you said hello to the birthday boy?"

"Nope," I said, weaving my head to and fro in an attempt to catch sight of him.

I smiled when I saw a couple of my in-laws trying to prove that they had the moves like Mr J as well and just shook my head.

Those dance moves really should come with an age restriction.

"He was over there a minute ago," she pointed vaguely in the direction of the dance floor.

"Never mind, I'm sure I will catch up with him soon enough."

I made my way around the room, trying to keep up appearances and not let slip to the family that I was in the middle of having a major melt down. The pictures of Kevin's tortured frame kept popping into my head, interspersed with images of Jerry and visions of the four of us in handcuffs. Whatever Nancy believed, there was no way we could stay under the radar. Sooner or later, the police would come sniffing around and then all manner of stinky stuff would be flying all over the place.

Trisha bounced up to me. "Hey Makayla, took you long enough! You should have been here ages ago. What gives?"

I smiled at her abstractly but didn't say anything.

"Are you ok?" She asked peering into my eyes

"Fine, fine, I'm alright."

"There she is." A booming voice announced as I was picked up from behind and twirled around.

My brother Henry had found me. He set me back on my feet and gave me a peck on the cheek as I turned to face him. For Henry, I mustered up the brightest grin that I could but he knew me too well for it to fool him.

"Are you alright poppet? You look a little peaky."

"I'm just a little stressed," I told him. "Hassles at work, you know."

"Ah well, you know what they say..."

"The bills have to be paid." We chorused together.

He led me to the buffet table and handed me a side plate.

"Right, young lady, you need to get some food down your gullet."

"Young man, I'll have you know that my gullet and what goes down it is no business of yours."

"Huh." He scoffed. "Says you. Now eat or else I'm telling everyone you've lost weight."

"Please," I begged him. "I've barely recovered from the last intervention."

"So how did the date with what's-his-name go, you know, Trisha's mate?"

"It was awful, truly horrendous. I wonder what I have done to deserve such misfortune." I told him honestly.

"Well, Makayla my love, you should know that you will never find such a prince among men like me so maybe you need to lower your standards and accept that sad little fact. It's a shame incest is such a social taboo isn't it?"

"Huh! Prince among men, my ass," I snickered.

He just grinned at me.

Someone clinked on a glass to draw our attention. I caught Mark's eye and waved. He waved back with a dopey grin. Honestly. Looking at him he didn't look a day over twenty-five. I could hardly believe he was forty. As the speech by his best friend and work mate, Ted, drew to a close we all clapped politely. The MC suggested a round of party games and so the fun continued.

My head was pounding and I was having a hard time keeping up the façade that all was well. The family mayhem was getting to me. As I tried to find a way to slip out gracefully, Betty announced that the next game would be a word /rhyming game and she pointed at Henry and me to get it started off.

When I hesitated, she started off with "Alas, my lass," and gestured encouragingly.

"The jerk was such an ass," Henry added, wiggling his eyebrows at me and looking meaningfully at Trisha.

That generated a lot of laughter around the room. I was sure the family grapevine had already let everyone know how my shitty date had gone.

It was my turn and the whole room was looking at me expectantly. This was one of our favourite games and when I teamed up with Henry we were usually unbeatable. I was still drawing a blank, unable to form a single coherent thought.

"Makayla...?"

"Pass...pass, I'm sorry," I stuttered.

As the game went on, Henry turned to look at me with his eyebrows raised. I answered his silent enquiry defensively.

"I have a dreadful headache. I think I must be coming down with the flu or something."

His keen gaze never left my face as if he was assessing me on another level. Finally he seemed to come to a decision.

"Come on then, I'll drive you home."

I stopped to give Mark a hug and his present and then quietly left without alerting anyone else. I'd give one or two of them a call in the morning.
  25. # NANCY

It was quiet when I got home and I felt a momentary sense of loss and nostalgia as I remembered that for now I was the sole mistress of my domain and all I surveyed. I chuckled to myself as I took off my winter coat. It had been frosty and very cold today and I had kitted up in my usual fashion despite assurances from the perky ITV weather girl that the sun would be out today. See, I knew I could never trust the forecast and my cynicism served me well. Last weekend, they'd claimed that it was to be 'sunny skies and mild and balmy temperatures ahead.' Now they keep trying to gloss over the fact that they were so dreadfully inaccurate. Their ability to keep a straight face is a skill most poker players would do well to learn.

Settling down in front of the TV, I turned it on and then switched it off again once I saw the offending weather girl was on again.

Ergh!

I was having one of those days. My skin felt too tight and I was on edge. I was cranky as hell too.

Huh, no prizes for guess why that might be, missy.

I knew that a lot of stuff was all up in the air when it came to the Sapphire Club and the fact that someone might or might not be killing off our client list one after the other. Talk about negative effects. If this got out, we'd be in a whole lot of trouble. I didn't really get why the girls are all shying away like unbroken horses. I would have thought they were made of sterner stuff. But no, they all are ready to turn tail and run at the first hint of trouble.

How pathetic!

Anyway, just because they are going on break doesn't mean that I have to. In fact with Stephen out of the house I seemed to have more free time than ever. Most likely because I no longer had to find time to be his supportive "other half" and possibly because I didn't have to keep doing a job hunt for him on the sly.

Whatever.

Free time is free time and I was determined to put it to good use. There was no need moping about. Time is money after all and my intention was to have lots of it. Oodles of cash sounds nice every single time I say it.

Oodles.

I returned to my usual perch in front of my home computer and continued typing. With any luck I would have this one finished soon and could turn my attention back to my masterpiece. I had determined that rather than concentrate my efforts on the Sapphire series of books, I'd take time to do a little solo writing of my own while the juices were flowing.

Whatever it takes girl, whatever it takes.

My email icon flashed at the bottom of my screen. I checked to see what was up. Two new messages, the notification read.

Fine.

I switched over to my inbox to see what had come my way. I had a letter from an old client confirming the cash deposit of thirty thousand pounds had been paid into my account.

Well done, I thought to myself.

I started singing the song from EVITA - and the money kept rolling in - under my breath. I loved that movie even though most critics panned the leading lady. I mean, come on.

Antonio Banderas singing what's not to like, I ask.

Still, I loved that song in particular and it never failed to perk me right up. I filed the email under business and correspondence and turned to the other mail. I tense a little when I saw the sender. This mail was a little bit more worrying. It came from Jerry's email and was dated that morning.

It read simply:

I am on to you.

I signed out of my box in a hurry and tried without success to ignore the shiver that had crept down my spine upon reading that short sentence. It was disconcerting to say the least. Perhaps Makayla and the others had been right to insist that we all laid low for a while. It would certainly do us no harm. I shut down my computer and just sat there for a while, planning my next move.
  26. # UNKNOWN SUBJECT MALE

I like the old Chinese proverb: May you live in interesting times. Although interesting can mean different things to different people, I like the idea of living in an age that will be remembered by posterity, be it for good or for bad. I strive to avoid boredom by all means. I resist it with every fibre of my being. If I have nothing to inspire my senses, I am sure that I would soon wither away like the trees in winter.

It has been very interesting to watch my beloved ladies wriggle and worm as I begin to put in place the bricks that will fence them in and contain them to await my pleasure. I have also had the added pleasure of terminating two unworthy gentlemen who have had the privilege of being my wake-up call to the ladies. I may have gotten a little carried away but what's the harm in having a little fun ay?

Now as I prepare to take things one step further I am excited by the possibilities that await me. I can hardly keep myself from rubbing my hands in glee. One of the ladies is about to have a very nasty surprise.

But who?

Hmm.

The beast is undecided. I defer to him in all things but our tastes seem to be changing, evolving and diverging. It's to be expected. Though our souls are united, I am man and he is beast. At a banquet, one's appetite will be sated no matter which dishes you decide to sample first. I will have my turn and he will have his. And we will both be content.

LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL!
  27. # ROBIN

We were all a little messed up today to say the least. I was lounging on my bed feeling a little sorry for myself while I ruminated on the events of the day. I felt a twinge of pity when I thought of Makayla having to grapple with the clan from hell tonight. After all we'd been through.

Rather her than me though.

I never understood why she didn't just tell them to all bugger off and let her live her life her own way. I cast my mind back to the argument that we'd been having earlier on in the day and smirked when I remembered taunting her with her lack of extracurricular activities. I was a fine one to talk. If not for David/Thomas, I'd been having a hell of a long dry spell myself.

Speaking of which...

I reached over and pulled my jeans jacket over from where it hung on my bed post. I fished in my pocket until I found the scrap of paper that I was looking for. It had his number on it. Holding it in one hand, I reached into the back pocket of my jeans and got my cell phone out. I dialled his number and waited for it to ring.

"Hello, David Carrel speaking."

At the sound of his voice I had a very clear picture in my head of his handsome face and my throat was suddenly dry.

"It's me."

I cleared my throat and tried again.

"It's me, Robin."

"Ah. You called." I could hear satisfaction in his voice.

"Yeah, I called."

"So what's up?"

"I was wondering if you would like to meet me for a drink."

"Sure. When and where?"

"Are you free now? There's this lovely place called La Biancá. In Stanmore...,"

"I know that place, I've been there before with my editor. Or I should say, my ex-editor. I'm mad hungry though. Can we make it dinner instead?"

"Sure, why not. Meet you there in thirty minutes."

"Ok. See you in a bit."

I hung up. Thirty minutes gave me enough time for a quick shower and a change. I pushed myself to my feet and moved over to my closet. It was a good thing he was still around and had not headed to Geneva as he planned. I needed to get out of here for a few hours at least and I wanted the added security of male company tonight. It would make me feel safer even if it was just an illusion. Plus there were other benefits to spending time with Thomas. I found it hard to think of him as David. He was still the kind hottie that I'd met at Luton who took time to have a drink and chat with me.

I got to La Biancá in good time and met him already seated. I let my eyes run over him and to my mortification felt myself flush a little when he noticed me giving him the once over. His smile was gentle as he stood like a true gent while I got seated and the waiter came over to take our orders.

We asked for drinks and told the wait staff to come back for our main orders. While we busied ourselves with the menus we made small talk and chatted about the weather and London in general, the latest gaffes by the politicians and that kind of thing. I found out that he'd been a Liberal Democrat when he was resident in the UK which I found a little funny. He struck me more as a Labour kind of guy.

"What about you? Which party are you loyal to?"

"Well, my loyalties tend to change depending on who is in office," I told him. "Whatever party is the main opposition gets my vote."

"Don't you find that a little confusing?" he asked.

"Nope. I find it fun. It helps to make politics come alive for me."

After a while we waved the staff over. He ordered the lobster which was the dish that made restaurant so popular with the local clientele while I settled for some fish.

"So how did you find this place?" He asked me as we tucked into the rich fare that had been set before us.

"It's one of the only decent joints near my pad. I've had more than my fair share of dinners here."

I resolutely squelched the memories of eating here with Sam that tried to push themselves to the forefront of my mind. I didn't need that tonight.

I took a sip of my red wine, a full bodied vintage that had a sharp fruity tang to it which had been touted as the house special. It was very nice and went well with our chosen courses. We continued to enjoy our meal in companionable silence for a while till he broke the silence by saying:

"So how are your friends doing, the other ladies that you," he paused significantly, "work with."

The last thing I wanted to talk about was the Sapphire club. The whole purpose of this evening was to give me some much needed time away from all that. As a result my voice came out a little sharper than I'd intended.

"I really don't want to discuss the club if you don't mind."

"Sure, no worries," he said unperturbed.

I tried to make conversation as well.

"So what's the real situation with Gina?"

"I really don't want to discuss that situation either," he said wryly.

"Touché."

"Let's order dessert instead, shall we," he said with a neutral smile.

"Sounds good to me."

After a few minutes of silence over a sinfully decadent chocolate pudding, he relented and started talking.

"We've called off the wedding."

I looked at him in silence.

"Gina and I have called of the wedding." He repeated.

"I heard you the first time," I told him. "Why?"

"Well for a number of reasons but mainly because I'm developing feelings for someone else, namely a particular redhead who is proving to be a proper distraction."

I didn't know what to say. Wasn't even sure that I should say anything.

"Say something," he begged.

"I don't know what to say," I told him truthfully. "I'm not sure I even believe you at this point."

"What, you think I'm lying?"

"No, I don't think you are lying per se, but I do think you are leaving out bits of the story and not telling me the whole truth."

"Look, why don't we forget about the past. Forget about whatever you believe, just believe this my darling girl."

He leaned forward intently.

"I know it is a bit soon but I think I have real feelings for you."

I just looked at him. I couldn't deny that there was this huge attraction between us but he was right about it being damn too soon.

"Just tell me this is not all one sided, tell me you feel it too."

He clasped his hands around mine and caressed my wrist softly.

"It's not one sided." I affirmed quietly.

I took a deep breath and then continued.

"Thomas, just... look, I don't want us to rush into anything here."

"I know. All I need is for you to tell me that you'll be willing to explore these feelings with me, one day at a time."

"I think I can manage that."

The emotional temperature at our table was rising and I could see where the evening was headed, not that I minded. I gathered up the courage to ask him if he wanted to go to his place.

"I don't think I can last that long" he said candidly. "Isn't your place near here?"

I pushed aside my doubts about the wisdom of taking him to my pad and after paying the tab, we made our way home to my place, stopping to kiss and cuddle frequently along the way. As we were getting to the door I heard footsteps behind us. I turned slightly and saw Bill coming up behind us.

"Hey Robin," he yelled cheerfully. "Got company?"

"Mind your own business, you pervert" I retorted with a grin.

"Aw, don't be such a spoilsport, love," he whined playfully. "Jenna and I would love to come over later."

"What part of fuck off do you want me to explain to you in detail, Bill?"

"Ok, ok, I get it," he laughed as he made his way to his door. "Just don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Well that leaves me with a lot of scope now, doesn't it?"

I turned back to Thomas.

"That's one half of my incredibly freaky neighbours, Jenna and Bill. The walls are paper thin so if you hear any strange noises it's not aliens, ok."

"Ok." He said.

After that we had precious little to say but a whole lot of activity showed that we were communicating just fine. Once we got horizontal, I lost track of time and things just moved in a flurry of sighs, moans and flesh on flesh. After screaming out incoherently one last time, echoed by Thomas's more husky voice, I fell into a deep and satisfying sleep still spooned in his arms.

I wasn't sure what woke me, but I started awake suddenly. I couldn't tell if minutes or hours had passed since I'd slept off but I was alone in my bed. Still groggy, I reached out with a smile to smooth my hand over the side of the bed where he'd slept. It was cold to touch, which meant he had left me there some while ago. I was wondering if he had left the flat all together when a faint rustling caught my attention. Cautiously, I made my way towards the dining area that doubled as my office.

I stopped dead at the sight that met my eyes.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?" I barked angrily.

He turned towards me slowly, dropping the papers he'd been perusing on to my dining table.

"Robin, I can explain," he said calmly. "It's not what you think."

"Don't you dare tell me what I do or do not think. You rotten bastard! I knew you were up to no good."

My heart was in my mouth. What kind of guy had I let into my home, into my bed?

"I was looking for some Aspirin" he said unconvincingly.

"Of course you were. And my bills and correspondence just happened to look like the most likely place to find a medicine cabinet."

"Robin, there's something I have to tell you."

"No shit! Well, I do not want to hear it so get your sorry ass out of my flat right now."

"Robin..."

"GET OUT!" I yelled. "Get the fuck out of my home. I never want to see your pathetic face again."

He opened his mouth to talk but closed it again without saying anything. I watched as he picked up his jacket and left, closing the door behind him. I rush over and threw on the chain and dead bolt before I allowed myself to collapse to the floor and dissolve into tears. I felt angry, betrayed, frightened and very, very lonely.

There was a knock at the door and I started.

"Robin, Robin," his voice wafted through the door.

I cringed.

Why couldn't the fuckhead just leave?

"Please, listen." He stopped. "Look, I know you are mad but I need to call a taxi. Please?"

Despite the misgivings I was having, I opened the door a crack.

"Use your cell phone," I told him, eyeing him with mistrust.

I knew my face would be red and blotchy with the tears I'd shed but I refused to hide my feelings from him. The guilty look on his face told me that my objective had been achieved. Good. The lying bastard deserved to have his conscience put him in a chokehold and strangle him.

"I can't. There's no signal on it, look"- he thrust the offending phone at my face. "Please let me in."

Against my better judgement I wavered.

"Alright, one phone call. But then you have to leave. I don't want you here."

He walked in and went straight to the TalkTalk phone I had on the dining table. After a muted discussion lasting just over a minute, he hung up. We stood there awkwardly for a couple of minutes,

"Well, they'll be here soon," he said sheepishly.

"Good, you can wait for them outside."

"Robin..."

"Look save it loser." I pointed to the door. "Now will you please leave or do I have to call the police?"

With one last glance at me, he walked out of my flat. I listened to his steps going down the stairs as I softly shut the door and locked up tight. It was a long time before I was able to fall asleep again.
  28. # SYBIL

We'd rounded up the session fast enough after Makayla's departure. We cited unavoidable complications and told Mr Purcell that we would offer him another chance to savour our charms, such as they were at a later date. To say he was disappointed would be an understatement but we made it clear to him that this was an emergency and desperate times called for desperate measures. After dropping Robin off at her place, I made my way home.

The house was quiet. Without a doubt I knew that I was home alone again.

What else was new?

I changed hastily, removing my clothes and flinging them across the room. I was possessed with an urge to distance myself from the terror and confusion of the afternoon. I still felt a little queasy from my emetic fit when I'd recognised Kevin's picture on the TV. I did my best to put all that out of my mind. I needed to calm down a little. My mind was churning with thoughts. I was worried, there was no escaping that.

I decided that an evening jog/stroll might tire me out physically and combined with a bubble bath just might send me into the arms of Morpheus. Not even the thought of the long soak I had planned for later that night could perk me up as I made my way downstairs.

"A glass of white wine with the bath will be a good idea as well, Sybil." I muttered to myself under my breath.

I made my way to the fridge to check that my bottle of Jacob's Creek was still chilling. While I had my head in the fridge I heard footsteps approaching me rapidly and I whirled around in a mild panic.

"Hello my love," Eric said. "What's got you all wound up?"

"Nothing," I answered him as casually as I could. "I must have had too much caffeine today, I'm as jumpy as a cat."

He took in my attire of grey sweats and white sneakers.

"If you're going for a run, it's more than a few cups of coffee on your mind."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh nothing," he claimed innocently. "But if you want to burn off some calories, I can think of much pleasanter ways to do so."

"Eric, you have a one track mind."

That was Eric alright; his brain always seemed to be focused at groin level. Funny thing though, today I didn't seem to mind.

"I'm going to make a chicken salad sandwich, want me to make you one?" He offered.

"That would be nice." I smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

He made his way to the cutlery draw and started pulling out stuff he needed. He grabbed a loaf of bread and laid out all the condiments he wanted. I leaned against the kitchen's door frame and just watched him as he puttered around, putting together the meal. I had forgotten how good Eric was in the kitchen. He had gone to culinary school for a while before he dropped out to go to university but he still had some skills.

He looked up at me with a quizzical expression on his face. "You going to eat this before the run?" He asked.

"Nah, I'll have it later when I get back."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I won't be long. You go ahead though."

"Sybil..."

I turned back to look at him

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure you are ok. You seem...preoccupied. Sure there is nothing on your mind?"

I felt an unexpected rush of affection for him.

How sweet.

He was concerned about me. I always knew at the back of my mind that we still had a wealth of affection for each other and this proved it.

I smiled sweetly at him and to my private amusement, watched his eyes widen slightly as I walked towards him. Poor Eric. Was I really that unpredictable?

"Eric," I told him when I was close enough to look into his eyes. "I am fine. Yes I have a lot on my mind, but it is nothing I cannot handle." I made an abrupt decision. "I'll tell you all about it when I get back from my run. Don't go to bed yet."

"I won't," he said, giving me a soft kiss.

It was a rare and tender moment and I relished it. Maybe there was hope for us yet, maybe we could start again. I only knew that for the first time in a long time I was willing to give us another chance.

With a show of reluctance I tore myself away.

"Hold that thought. I am going for that run, but I will be back."

"I'll be waiting, in my usual spot." He lowered his head slightly and shot me a lecherous look. "My favourite spot in the whole house. Your bed."

I laughed out loud as I let myself out. Trust Eric to turn this into an opportunity to get some. Maybe a little hanky-panky would do me some good anyway. Lifting the hood on my sweat shirt I stepped out. I fumbled with my iPod and settled on my favourite playlist.

Moving my feet in step to the beat I made good time as I half ran, half jogged towards the park near my home. I was enjoying myself, listening to music and sifting through my thoughts. There was no doubt in my mind that we needed to be more careful. I thought about what Nancy and the other girls had said as I made my way down the road. It made sense on a number of levels but Robin and Makayla seemed more level headed than I would have thought. I planned to do a short jog down to Barnet Church and up to the hospital then loop back down to the high street. I had just crossed the road and was singing out loud "I don't wanna..."

Out of the blue I felt a wallop like a thunderclap at the base of my skull and the world around me went black.
  29. # DAVID

That could have gone better I suppose.

"Really smooth, my man," I berated myself under my breath.

I had pushed my luck a little too far tonight and I knew it was a bad idea to get involved with the sexy redhead but I hadn't been lying when I spoke about my feelings for her. Like it or not she had gotten under my skin and there was little or nothing I could do about it.

I winced when I pictured the way her face had looked when she found me leafing through her stuff but it was an opportunity I could not afford to miss. I'd needed some information and she and her clique of risqué lady friends were my best hope of finding any answers.

I saw a pair of headlights approaching and stepped out into the street. It could only be the taxi I'd ordered from my cell phone before going up to call my home from her landline. I'd wanted to have her home number and I knew damn well that she wasn't going to give it to me. I also knew it was highly unlikely she'd pick up her cell phone if caller ID showed my number.

I got into the cab and gave the driver my address and then settled back, trying to make myself comfortable for the short drive to the hotel where I was staying.

"At least the evening wasn't a total loss," I mused to myself.

I'd already found out where she lived on the day I'd tailed her home from Luton. Tonight I'd gained access to her flat (and the papers she caught me with), her phone number and I'd had some quality one on one time with the beautiful Robin.

Nothing to be snorted at. That much was sure.

It wasn't just the sex, fabulous as that was. No, it was the lady herself. She was lively and funny and I'd had a good time talking with her. Too bad I had a job to do and it was a duty that I felt honour bound to complete no matter what personal issues might crop up along the way.

It had been little over a week ago when my friend and partner, Detective Jeremiah Hounslow, better known as Jerry to his friends, had disappeared without a trace. We had worked together for years and been partners for over six years. We'd been friends for much longer and had both been having a lovely time working as police officers out of the Hertsmere Constabulary.

I knew he could be a wild child at times but he'd never gone off for days on end without at least giving me a call. I'd been expecting him to call me after he finished his mystery weekend as he had referred to it with a big shit-eating grin. He hadn't given me the details, just said it was going to be a whole lot of fun. He'd never come back. I'd checked out his place more than once since I had a key. The only thing I found were a couple of lipstick stained glasses and some cigarette butts. There was no sign of activity and no sign of Jerry either.

With the passage of days I got a bit antsy and made up my mind that I'd do a proper search of his place. I'd just made a foray into his home office and was flicking through his desk diary to see if he was working on anything that he hadn't told me about when my cell phone rang.

I wanted to ignore it but a sixth sense that I couldn't explain made me pick up my phone.

"Hello?"

"Dave, is that you? I've got some bad news son. I'm so sorry."

It was our Chief Inspector who was calling. He told me that Jerry's body had been found in a restroom at the Brent Cross shopping mall and taken to the county morgue. I could barely comprehend what he was saying. It seemed like a bad dream.

How could he be dead?

"David, are you there. You are the closet thing he has to family apart from his mom," his voice trailed off. "Shit, I hate to ask you this."

"Ask me what, Chief?"

"The thing is, we need you come down and ID the body. I must warn you, it isn't pretty. We couldn't even get a fingerprint ID."

I felt a surge of hope. "Then how do you know it's him. It could be anybody."

True. But the corpse had Jerry's badge and ID, son. And if it isn't him, then where is Jerry?"

My shoulders sagged in defeat as I realised the truth in his words.

"Where is he?"

"They've moved him to the morgue at Hendon."

He reeled off the address and driving directions. I told him I'd be there as soon as I could.

I was shaken. Jerry was the closest thing I had to a brother. I was an only son, though I had two younger sisters. Jerry's only brother had been killed in action in Iraq a few years ago. He'd never known his dad and his mum had been in a nursing home for the past five years. It wasn't that Jerry didn't want to take care of her. I knew for a fact that he did but her dementia made it dangerous for him to leave her at home unsupervised for long hours. And the nature of our job made those long unsupervised hours unavoidable. I shook my head.

What a mess. What a bloody mess.

I made my way to Jerry's built-in bar and poured myself a stiff three fingers of brandy and drank it neat. The fiery trail it blazed down my throat was a welcome sensation. It reminded me that I was still alive.

Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed the passing early morning scenery. My mind was still circling around the horror of seeing his badly mutilated body, of having to formally identify that broken and torn mound of flesh as my best mate. I threw my head back and ran my fingers through my hair. It was not an experience I would wish on anyone. I vowed once again that I would get to the bottom of this. Jerry's death had shaken the foundations of my world and I couldn't rest until I knew what had happened.

I regretted the scene with Robin but in a way it was inevitable. She and her bunch of friends were in this up to their pretty necks and dammit, I was going to figure out what was going on even if it killed me. I'd found Nancy's number on a memo pad in Jerry's apartment. When I accessed his cell phone records, they showed that the last number he'd dialled had been Nancy's as well.

That piqued my interest so I'd called up. That was how I had come to find myself booking an appointment with the Sapphire Club as they called themselves. With the help of our crime lab, I'd used GPRS locators to find the ladies where they were having a power brunch. They'd seemed harmless enough but I'd trailed Robin when she left that morning simply because she looked like the liveliest of the bunch.

Unfortunately, all the time I'd spent with them had yielded little information. However the techs at the crime lab had called me earlier tonight just before Robin had and told me they'd found something interesting on Jerry's home computer and in his email that they wanted me to check out. It would have to wait till morning. For now, it was late, I was tired and heartsick and I very much needed the comfort of my own bed. Pity I would have to settle for an anonymous hotel bed tonight but that couldn't be helped.

I paid off the cabby and walked wearily into the hotel. The lady at the desk didn't even raise an eyebrow. Obviously they were used to having guests come back at all hours of the morning. I made my way up to my room, walking slowly like an old man. I was bone tired. After a quick shower, I set my alarm for 6.45 am and promptly nodded off to sleep.
  30. # NANCY

I was walking down our high street doing some minor shopping before returning to the agency. One of the popular supermarkets had given our agency a contract to supply them with temps for their accounts department and because of the short notice, I was going to have to resort to outsourcing if I was going to meet their requirements on schedule. After months of quiet idleness on the work front, I was suddenly left shuffling, trying to cope with the deluge of requests and orders coming my way.

When it rains, it fucking pours.

I was almost at the office when a gentleman approached me. Still on edge about the email and the deaths of two of our clients, I scuttled backwards in alarm.

"Hey!" I snapped angrily. "What on earth do you think you are doing?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you"

I took a closer look at the guy.

"I know you. You're that fellow, David isn't it? What are you doing here? Are you following me?"

It had been known to happen in the past but thankfully, not as frequently as me and the girls had feared.

"Not at all, I just need to ask you a few questions."

Yeah, questions my ass.

I remembered the guy from his session with us. He had been all over Robin and if my memory served me right I had dropped them off together at the hotel. No doubt Robin had done her usual 'love-em-and –leave-em' routine and lover boy here was jonesing for some more sugar from the babe. Poor sod.

"Sorry love, I can't help you. I'm sure I explained our terms and conditions in full on the phone before we agreed to picked you up. And they include no further contact after we wrapped up our little rendezvous. Now you better leave before I call the police and have you arrested for stalking."

"Nah, doll, I know you are not going to call the police," he scoffed to my amazement. "That's probably the last thing you want to do."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means that I know that you and your birds do not want to attract the attention of the police at all, now do you?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." I persisted, feigning ignorance.

"Sure you do. But if you really insist that you want to call the cops, let me save you some trouble."

He reached into his pocket and despite myself I flinched. He withdrew his hand slowly and in it he clasped a police badge and ID in a leather wallet which he held out for me to see.

"I'm Detective David Carrel with the Hertsmere Police Constabulary and I need to ask you a couple of questions"

Jeeze! I wasn't expecting that. And so soon! How did they get on to us? On to me? What did he want?

Trying my best to keep my composure, I addressed him as firmly as I could.

"What do you want to know about?"

"What can you tell me about this guy?"

He held out the picture that he'd been holding in his other hand. Before he even showed it to me, I knew it could only be Jerry's.

"Him? I don't know him. Who is he?" I asked, playing stupid.

"Don't lie to me, little lady. His name was Jerry and he was found dead on Tuesday last week. He was my partner and my friend. I know he spent time with you girls because he told me about it beforehand and I know he never came back home afterwards either."

Busted!

"I'm sorry for your loss," I said sincerely. "But I can hardly remember him. We do have a lot of clients you know, how am I supposed to remember each one."

"Look, I don't have time to play games with you. Maybe I should just arrest you right now and see if that will jog your memory."

"On what charges?"

"Oh I'm sure I'll come up with something once I get you to the station. What with all the stuff you girls get up to. I'm sure the press would love to get wind of that story."

"Hey, the Sapphire club is just a bit of harmless fun," I told him hotly. "We haven't broken any laws. And, sure it might be a little embarrassing for some of our clientele if their patronage was ever exposed but when you get down to it, press involvement would just be good advertisement for us."

"You're bluffing."

"Am I really? I could well be but unfortunately, there is no way you can know that for sure, now is there?"

I was right and he knew it.

"Look lady..."

"Nancy," I told him huffily.

"Nancy," he acquiesced. "I need to know anything you can tell me about the time Jerry spent with you ladies. It might be the key to solving his murder and disappearance."

Something about his voice made me thaw towards him a little. His grief at the loss of his partner was palpably obvious when he spoke about him.

"Look, Jerry had a very routine time with us. We picked him up just like we did with you. Transported him to Sapphire Central and dropped him off at the same motel I dropped you and Robin off at. That's really all I can tell you."

At the mention of Robin's name an odd look came over his face but it went so quickly I thought I must have imagined it.

"Is there anything else you can think of that can help me?" he asked me.

I debated with myself for a while before I made up my mind to tell him about Kevin. It was better I told him now than he found out about it later I reasoned.

"Well, there was one other thing."

"Yeah?"

"The girls and I have been a little worried. Another one of our clients was found dead a few days ago. A gentleman called Kevin Bain."

Recognition sparked in his grey eyes.

"I heard about that guy and I checked it out because of the similarities to Jerry's case."

I could see him mentally linking the dots.

"Why didn't you ladies come forward with this?"

"Because there was nothing to link the two of them."

"Except you girls."

"Except us." I acknowledged.

"I'm going to have to see your full client list and any documents relating to this, you know."

"No way," I exclaimed. "We signed a confidentially agreement with our clients. There is no way I am releasing that information to you unless I see a warrant."

"Nancy, you will do well to give it to me and as soon as possible as well or else I will have you down at the county jail on obstruction of justice charges so fast your head will spin. You might want to remember that Jerry was a cop and we don't take the death of one of our own lightly."

Well, when he put it like that.

"I'm sure you don't." I sighed expressively. "Fine, but I am warning you that I am going to seek legal counsel over this matter. I know my rights."

"I know you do. All I care about is getting the maniac behind this and bringing them to justice."

"Can you come back tomorrow so I'll have time to compile the full list?"

"Sure I can," He said turning to leave. "But you'd better have it ready for me or the next time we speak, you will be enjoying the comforts of a six by six holding cell and I promise you that we will be on opposite sides of the grill."

I assured him that I would be here waiting tomorrow morning with the information he needed.

"I'll provide you with the list but you do know that our clients never come back so if Kevin and Jerry did meet, it was definitely not through us."

"I think I'll be the judge of that."

As I turned to walk off I heard him call my name gently.

"Yes?"

"Do you know anyone who goes by the name Scribe?"

"No," I lied without missing a beat. "Why do you ask?"

"Cos I found a note in Jerry's place that scheduled a meeting between him and Scribe on the day he disappeared. His bank records also showed two large cash withdrawals that day but the money was not found with his body."

I sensed that he was watching me closely to try and gauge my reaction but I managed to hide my concerns.

"Maybe this Scribe was a friend of his. He never mentioned it to me anyway and I doubt you can expect me to know all Jerry's friends based on the short time he spent with us."

I laughed airily. I couldn't tell if he bought it or not but I knew I had to get out of there before I gave the game away.

"I'll see you tomorrow with the list," I told him as I hurried away.

As I fumbled with the door I glanced over my shoulder and saw him still standing there, looking at me with an assessing look on his face.
  31. # SYBIL

I was dreaming. I was talking with the girls at our favourite café but something was wrong. Instead of the normal cute waiter, the people waiting on us and behind the counter were all ex-clients and their uniforms were all torn and bloody. Andy and his colleagues were nowhere to be found. The other ladies continued their animated chatter and did not seem to notice that anything was wrong and all my attempts to draw their attention to what was going on proved futile.

"We have to get out of here, Robin, Robin," I gasped, pulling on her arm. "Makayla, Nancy. Please guys, listen to me, something is not right."

I tried to urge Robin and Makayla to stand but instead of getting up they started pulling me between them. Their grips were tight and painful, cutting off the circulation at my wrist. I struggled and struggled but could not break free of them.

"Girls, what are you doing? What's going on?"

I wriggled and twisted my frame, putting all my strength behind my efforts, trying to get free but it was useless. I couldn't break free. Then Nancy got up and started hitting me on the head with her laptop while blood, bright red and viscous, poured out of her mouth as it opened and closed in a hideous fashion.

I gasped as I blinked awake, my eyes taking a few moments to adjust. It was dark and there was just a little light in the room where I was. My head was aching like crazy.

Whoa. Talk about bad dreams.

I tried to swing my legs off the side of my bed but I couldn't.

Huh!

My heart stuttered in fear as the memory of the sudden attack while I was jogging came back to me. I tried to move my hands but they were tied down firmly as well.

I tossed my head from side to side, straining my eyes to see further into the gloom around me. From what I could make out, I was back in one of the apartments we had used as a team in the weeks past. I was strapped down on one of the gadgets that Makayla had designed for some of our more kinky clients who liked to indulge in some light forms of bondage and S&M.

Was this supposed to be a joke?

Who could have done this?

Why would anyone do this to me?

I tried to free myself but in an eerie echo of my dream, I was unable to free my limbs. I shouted out for help. Shouted till I was hoarse but nobody came.

"Hello? Is anybody there? Eric is this one of your pranks? It's not funny. Let me go, let me go this instant, you hear? Robin? Is this your idea of a joke? You perv!" I forced a note of joviality into my voice. "I knew you were fixated on my charms. Let me go. Halloo. Is anybody there?"

All of a sudden the gloom intensified as the little light that had been seeping into the room was somehow extinguished. Everywhere was pitch black. I could hear someone or something moving about, a faint rustling of cloth or something but I couldn't pick out anything apart from some shadows that danced about at the edges of my vision. I was terrified and couldn't help the whimpers that escaped as I struggled against my bonds, trying desperately to free myself.

A sudden sound near my head made me crane my neck in alarm. I felt my bladder go as the horrific sight of a blow torch being powered up seared my retinas with the bluish flame. In the flickering light I could just make out the face of my captor.

He never said a word, just kept looking at my face as he steadily advanced towards me until I could feel the heat of the torch on my skin. He raised his other hand to caress my face and I stifled a scream as he moved it down to my neck and then firmly grasped my left breast in his hand. As he pinched my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he released a high pitched snigger. He was breathing heavily and I could see his mouth was slack with a sick kind of anticipation.

"You!" I gasped. "You sick fuck. What the hell..."

That was the last coherent speech I could muster for a while as my world turned red with agony. Time lost all meaning. I couldn't tell. I had no idea how long I was trapped in a haze of pain. It could have been minutes, it could have been days. Along with the irritating smells of urine, sweat and burning flesh, my flesh, I could only perceive an unimaginable burning pain that rendered me only able to scream.

And scream.

And scream.

When at last he paused, he stood for a moment admiring his handiwork. Then, he bent his head down and reverently sniffed at my charred skin. I heard him groan with pleasure. I could feel him prying at my nether regions and my mind recoiled at the thought of more torment to come.

Why? Why? I thought as mercifully, I fainted clean away.
  32. # MAKAYLA

It has been such a long day. I spent most of it dodging calls from the family, from the girls and from work. I wish they had never invented the mobile phone. Its usefulness is vastly outweighed by the demands it places on us. I know it dates me but I'm more of a land line girl. With or without an answering machine. So that if I do not want to talk to anyone I don't have to and I can always use 'sorry, I wasn't at home/at work' as a plausible excuse.

I shelved my inner rant for a minute after enduring a couple of rings from Betty. I sat there looking at her caller ID displayed on my screen but could not for the life of me break through my inertia and answer the phone. I was tempted to switch it off altogether but I knew that would only make things worse.

I'd called in sick today and I had no intention of going to work tomorrow either.

Shit! There goes my employer of the year award. Big deal, I snorted.

I was despondent. I had been sifting through my options and I didn't know what to do. I felt as if I was trapped between a rock and a hard place and being squashed to death slowly.

When we'd first started the Sapphire Club it was just for shits and giggles. Nothing serious, all laugher, jokes. And fun. Lots and lots of fun. The money we got from our clients was simply icing on the cake. I had a lot of fun rigging up stuff for us to use, wiring places for sound and special effects and generally flexing my tech skills.

Unfortunately, the work (such as it was) got too easy for me, the jobs too mundane and as all my brothers and sisters know, I am at my most dangerous when I am idle. My brain needs activity like my lungs need air and when I am bored I feel like I am dying.

It was while I was readjusting the security feeds on one of the security cameras at one of the swank houses that served as home to one of our clients that I had an idea that would change my life. It was so simple that the sheer genius of it took my breath away. I waited to see if there were any flaws in my plans and with a little tweaking I was able to make things work.

I rarely get involved in dropping off our clients after a gig. Usually it is either Sybil or Nancy that has that honour. And they normally drop them off at a hotel first and then make their way home. This means that their homes are empty for the duration of time they spend with us, give or take a few hours. That gave me more than enough time to do what I want to. So, while the girls were occupied with cleaning our guests up and transporting them to the hotels, I had been going back to raid their homes without the other ladies having a clue. Small but valuable items like gold, cash, minor art works are all I've taken. I take them and then sell them on. Nothing major. I try not to be greedy.

It has been an additional and profitable side line with almost zero risk but with two deaths now linked however minutely to our activities I am worried that the cops will start to take a closer look at what we have been up to in the past few months.

Though I have tried to reassure myself time and time again, I cannot completely quell the feeling that something bad is about to happen and I have no desire to be a part of it.

If my crimes come to light..., I thought shakily.

I knew deep inside me that I would not be able to cope in prison. I'd spent the morning destroying my hard drives and wiping my computer files clean. The remote connection I usually used to access the security cameras has also been disabled. I was ready to cut my losses and run.

Picking up a light green and brown suitcase from the back of my closet I began packing my stuff. I was determined to travel light and travel fast.

"Thank God I remembered to renew my passport last month."

Underwear, jeans, a couple of tee-shirts, two dresses, two cardigans. I toss them into the suitcase and try to arrange them in some semblance of order. I dash into the bathroom and emerge with my toilet bag and a few female essentials that soon take their place in the suitcase as well.

"What else? What else?" I muttered to myself as I looked round my room. At the bottom of my suitcase I have a stash of gold chains, pendants, cufflinks and bracelets that will serve as my alternate sources of cash. I also have a wad of cash in both large and small denominations and a number of credit and debit cards.

Trying to zip up my emergency travel case, I was distracted by my phone again.

Whoever it is bloody persistent, I'll give them that.

It stopped ringing and then started again. Ringing and ringing and ringing.

"Oh for fuck's sake," I groused, thoroughly exasperated. I yanked the small cell phone towards me. Caller ID showed it was Robin.

"What the hell do you want?" I snarled by way of greeting.

"Makayla, oh God, Makayla." She sobbed

"What is it? What are you snivelling about?"

"It's Sybil, she's dead."

"What? What has she done now?"

"No, I mean she's dead, dead, like deceased. They found her body."

"WHAT?"

"Oh God, it was so horrible. It was worse than Kevin and Jerry. She'd been burnt badly. She's dead, Makayla, she's dead."

The phone dropped from my nerveless fingers. As I sat on the bed with my heart pounding in fear, I could hear Robin squawking on the phone but for the life of me I could not bring myself to respond.
  33. # UNKNOWN SUBJECT – MALE

Fire is such a beautiful thing. Its heat is pure, its light is transcendent. It purifies and consumes all at the same time. It is one of my favourite tools for helping the dark reaper collect his dues.

She was better than I thought she'd be. I had meant merely to observe the buxom queen who seemed to be at the heart of the activities of the Blood Diamonds. She was not my first choice for the opening act of our little intrigue; I had my eye on another. I'd been sitting in the park, watching and waiting but the sight of her jogging alone that evening proved to be too much temptation for me.

Tired out by the day's activities, I have been resting gently in my bed, a rare occurrence for me. I am feeling mellow and blissed out. I was surprised when my thoughts and the beast's aligned so perfectly but in this we were in total agreement and our hungers are appeased for now. At least mine are. I think his appetite has been wetted and I know the brief reprieve I've had thus far will soon come to an end.

I can't hide my anticipation at this thought. If the first one brought me so much pleasure, I can only imagine what will happen when I get my hands on the other three. Though the snatch was hastily executed, it went well, probably due to the fact that she was totally oblivious to the danger coming her way. Jogging and singing was bad enough, but with her earphones in as well. It was almost too easy. The skilful hunter had his prey fall neatly into his lap.

What little effort it caused me was compensated in full by the time I took her back to my feeding ground. To her credit, Sybil impressed me with her strength. She didn't waste her breath on useless pleas for mercy. She was beautiful, magnificent in death and she took a long time to pass on to whatever construct she believed in.

Reliving the beauty of her screams and the way she twisted against her bonds is causing a stirring where nothing has moved or been moved for some time. I reached down and rearranged myself. It didn't help the situation.

The memory of her, writhing in pain and moaning when she was too weak to scream is exciting. Trying to muster some semblance of control, I swing my feet off the edge of my bed and make my way to the bathroom. My gaze falls on the newspaper cutting that I have made about the all my handiwork in the past few months.

A proud smile spreads over my face. I make a note to add the latest ones about Sybil to my collection. Apparently her husband, the poor sod is being questioned as a person of interest in the matter. The irony is breath taking. How obtuse are the local law enforcement that they cannot see the difference between the efforts of mere cattle and the work of a master. It is amusing to see them chasing their tails over this.

My lusts are side-tracked for the moment as I reach over and pick up my favourite picture of the blond one. Taken from a distance, the photo captures her ice cool beauty perfectly. Her beauty and the promise of our time together is almost more than I can bear to imagine. Soon, I promise her as I stare down at her lovely face. Very soon.
  34. # ROBIN

It was a closed casket, naturally. We all milled around the funeral hall looking lost and exchanging meaningless condolences with people we barely knew. I felt a pool of irrational rage and frustration welling up on my insides. Sybil hadn't deserved to die like that. No one deserved to go out like that.

The fear and the insecurity were telling on all of us as we sat there, huddled together. Draped in black like crows we tried to put on a brave face but we were all quaking on the insides.The question we were all asking ourselves was what comes next? Or more terrifyingly who went next?

The insane part of my brain was still being its irrepressible self and I wondered aloud what type of knickers Sybil would have liked to be buried in.

This drew a reluctant chuckle from the other two. I could see a couple of mourners glance our way at what they must have thought was totally inappropriate mirth but I couldn't give a fuck. It was our friend that was dead.

Gone.

Totally and completely gone with a grim finality that was terrible to contemplate. We were entitled to distract ourselves in any way we could.

"Well, we know it couldn't have been a G-string," Nancy smiled tearfully. "Comfort first ladies, comfort first." She said in a rather accurate imitation of Sybil.

We both laughed sadly.

I glanced over at Makayla. She'd been very quiet and subdued all through the service and she didn't laugh now either.

"How you two can even joke at a time like this is beyond me," she muttered.

"Makayla, much as we loved her, we can't lie down and be buried with her. Life doesn't work like that." Nancy was intense, trying to make her understand.

"Besides," I added softly, "it's what she would have wanted." They both looked at me. "You know it's true, girls. Sybil was always larger than life, always lively, optimistic and upbeat."

I found myself struggling to swallow a lump in my throat but forced myself to continue even though my vision was suddenly hazy with unshed tears. I blinked furiously but despite my efforts a couple still fell.

"I'm always going to remember her that way. Larger than life and totally full of it," I tacked on irreverently.

That startled a laugh out of both of them. We made our way out with the rest of the mourners as the procession departed for the crematorium. Only Eric would attend that small service.

"Right, I am in the mood for a drink. Or a couple of drinks, to be honest. Who's in?"

"I'm in." Nancy chimed.

"I definitely need at least three," Makayla agreed. "Just point me in the direction of the bar, my fine ladies."

I threw one arm around her shoulder and the other around Nancy's.

"That's it girls," I crowed. "Let's show them how it's done."

As we situated ourselves in front of the cutest waiter and ordered our drinks, I couldn't help but look around at the crowd of assembled mourners and sympathisers gathered in the hall. I found myself scanning all the men in attendance. Was it him? Was it that guy? Is that one watching us? Is that one pretending not to watch us?

No, I am just being paranoid I thought to myself and hastened to put a stop to my morbid speculations.

I made an internal decision right there and then that I would face my fears and focus on living life to the full in tribute to Sybil and all she stood for.

"Let's get this started girls," I told my comrades, reaching for my glass. "We'll party like it is 1979. To Sybil!"
  35. # NANCY

I supposed this would be the last meeting of the Sapphire club for a very long time. It would take ages for us to get over the loss of Sybil, if we ever did, and there was no sense in our continuing the gigs if our lives were at risk. It was not a good time to be a founding member of the Sapphire Club. We were all on edge, apprehensively looking over our shoulders, jumping out of our skins at every shadow and every noise. Though I knew I looked as if I had iced water running through my veins, on the inside my emotions were in turmoil and I was a proper mess.

Makayla, on the other hand, was a jumpy as a cat and in some weird way, her agitation soothed me. It helped my nerves to know that I was not the only one who was worried about what the fuck we had gotten ourselves into.

"Sweetie, you really need to calm down you know," I told her solicitously. "You are not doing yourself any good."

"I know. I'm chilling, I'm chilling." She replied. She took a big swig of her cappuccino and forced a lame smile.

"It just doesn't seem real you know," she lamented. "I keep expecting Sybil to walk in through the door," she gestured towards the café doors, "wearing one of her red tee-shirts, with a big smirk on her face."

"I know what you mean love," Robin put in unexpectedly. I was surprised to hear a hint of tears in her voice. "Ah Sybil."

"She was always larger than life," I started.

"Hey watch it with the larger, kiddo, you know she preferred to be called buxom not large."

The joke fell flat as none of us felt much like laughing.

As we sat there, sipping our drinks and munching on scones I decided that I should let the girls know that Jerry's partner had been sniffing around a few days before we'd gotten the news of Sybil's death.

"Jerry's partner?" Makayla gulped. "What did he want with you?"

"Well apparently, his partner was no other than Robin's latest conquest. Just how much have you spilled to lover boy about our activities as part of your pillow talk huh?"

"What?"

Robin looked totally lost but I wasn't going to be fooled by her guileless baby blues. I'd seen her use them one too many times to be taken in.

"Your pal, David. He's a police officer. Jerry's partner no less."

Robin looked decidedly disgruntled at this piece of news.

"No wonder. I caught him snooping around in my flat after we spent the night together. They must be on to us."

"On to us? Wait, you took him to your flat? What did you tell him about us?"

"Nothing," she snapped. "I know better than to discuss our biz with outsiders. I'm not a total idiot you know. Besides he had a session with us himself so it's not like he doesn't know what we do anyhow."

Makayla spoke up, her calm voice pouring oil on troubled waters. "You both need to calm down. We need to stick together. Bickering is not going to help."

She turned to me. "So what did he want with you?"

"Basically he wanted to know what happened when Jerry was with us and he asked for a full client list."

"What? No way, you can't give him that." Makayla was alarmed.

"It's too risky," Robin echoed.

"Well it was either promise to get it for him or find myself behind bars and I assure you I will do anything to stay out of prison. Besides he promised to keep it confidential."

"So what did he want it for in the first place?"

"Somehow he linked Jerry and Kevin and he wants to see if there are any other links between our clients that can help them find the maniac who is behind this."

I decided against telling them about his queries about Scribe until I knew why he wanted to know about that Sapphire in particular though I could hazard a guess.

"I think it is time we all went our separate ways, I mean face it, how are we going to continue without Sybil." Robin sniffed as she finished up her latte. She had a point.

"Obviously this stuff with Jerry and Kevin was all about us."

Makayla and Robin were very vocal with their "we told you so's"

"So now you realise."

"Finally she gets a clue. Duh! Of course it's about us."

"Can the sarcasm ok, Makayla. Yeah, I'd say the proof is kind of overwhelming at this point. But the question still remains - why? And what do we do now?"

We were all stumped. We sat there in silence for a couple of minutes, contemplating the situation.

"Well, I've got nothing," Robin announced finally.

"Me either." I responded glumly.

Makayla looked up at us both. "Look girls, before we go any further, there is something I need to tell you guys."

We leaned forward in anticipation.

Just then, Robin's phone rang, her ringtone loud and obnoxious in the silence.

"Oh shit!"

"Who is it?" I asked curiously.

"It's Thomas."

"Thomas?"

"Yeah, Thomas. I mean David," she clarified when Makayla and I remained confused.

The phone kept ringing.

"Ugh! The persistent little fucker."

"Just answer it already." I urged her.

"Yeah," Makayla said. "Answer it and tell him to get lost."

"Or don't answer it and let him get the message that he needs to fuck off."

The phone rang on, shrill and loud until we'd all had enough.

"Just answer the damn thing already, Robin."

With a sigh and a dramatic roll of her eyes, she proceeded to do just that.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Robin, it's David. I need to see you."

"Why would I ever want to have anything to do with you?"

"Because I have some information that I think you need to be aware of. Something about one of you girls."

Despite my best efforts I couldn't pick up much more than that as they continued their conversation and then went on to set a time and place to meet up.

"Ok, ok, I'll be there soon," she muttered as she hung up.

She met my gaze defiantly.

"I want to see him. Hear what he has to say for himself now that the cat is out of the bag."

"Hey, it's your funeral mate," I replied without thinking. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"Whatever, Nancy. Makayla what was it you wanted to tell us?"

"Oh nothing much. Just that I think I'll be going to stay with my brother, Henry for a while, once the funeral is over. You hurry along though. You wouldn't want to keep lover boy waiting."

"Makayla, don't you start," Robin warned playfully.

I held my peace as she got her stuff together and got ready to go. She leaned over and gave us each a quick peck on the cheek before she hurried off.

"Well I guess we should be heading off as well."

"Yeah I suppose so," Makayla said. "Nancy, you don't think Eric could have had anything to do with this, do you?" She asked worriedly.

"Eric? Nah. No way. Sybil would more likely have roasted him over a slow fire than the other way round. No. This isn't Eric's doing."

"I didn't think so either."

We didn't have much to say after that and we both went our separate ways soon after, promising to meet up on Thursday.
  36. # MAKAYLA

Attending the funeral had been hard. Harder still was the sense of lost innocence that hovered around me and my friends. Saying goodbye to Sybil had rocked us all. We had lost our arrogant assumption of the right to life and been reminded forcefully of our own mortality. The last vestiges of denial had been swept away. There was no way any of us could still pretend that this was not about us. We were neck deep in stinky stuff and had nowhere to go.

It had been a difficult few days but I was finally getting back on my feet. It was time to get my life back on track and I was hurrying around town doing my last minute preparations. It was time to take my life in my own hands. I was still in big trouble. The police could show up at any time and the idea of running away and leaving all my troubles behind was getting more and more appealing. David or whatever his name was already had us in his sights.

Whether we liked it or not, whatever was going on was linked with the Sapphire club and our activities. I wondered if my pilfering could have been the cause but dismissed that thought almost as quickly as it occurred to me. If a disgruntled victim of my theft was behind all this, what did he want with Jerry and Kevin and why go after Sybil and not me?

Unless he blamed the four of us as a whole?

However, if my clandestine activities were not to blame, than what did the perpetrator of these horrific attacks want with us? And was he done? I didn't think so and this was the root cause of all my worrying.

In my haste I almost missed the sound that was echoing behind me as I made my way down the side street that led to my place.

Footsteps.

They stopped when I did. I waited for a minute, trying to get a read on what direction they were coming from but I couldn't see or hear anything. I crossed the road and peered into the darkened shop front of an off-license liquor store, vainly trying to catch a glimpse of pavement behind me. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary but what did I even know to look for?

I crossed back quickly and put on a burst of speed, cursing myself under my breath. It was beyond stupid for me to be walking around in the dark like this, knowing what was at stake. I hurried home and put in a call to Fastcabs to ensure I had a ride out of here. One way or the other I was leaving here tonight and I doubted I would be coming back.

I stared hard at the bag that was sitting at the foot of my bed. It'd been packed and ready since the day I got that horrible phone call from Robin telling me about Sybil. I'd stuck around for the funeral but now that it was over I was reconsidering my options. I wasn't sure what to do. A part of me wanted to just up and leave. The thought of fleeing was seductive. Just pick up my bag and head for Moscow or Paris.

I sighed softly to myself. I had told the girls that I would be heading to Henry's place but I pondered the wisdom of taking the troubles we were having to his door. I didn't want my family getting caught up in this mess. This monster had taken out a seasoned cop.

I picked up the bag, checked that my passport was safely ensconced in my handbag and then made my way down to the waiting cab, still undecided. I made up my mind that I would mail the girls a letter when I got to my final destination and tell them everything. I couldn't imagine that they would ever want to see me again once I told them the truth. Maybe it was better this way. I could keep my memories of them clean and special, untainted by bitter recriminations and accusations of betrayal. I slid in to the black cab and pulled the door shut behind me. As I settled myself in and put on my seat belt, I heard a loud click.

"Hey!" I exclaimed.

The driver didn't respond. I tried to open the door at my side but it held fast.

Shit!

"Hey! Let me out of here," I screeched in a panic.

The cab started to pull away from the kerb, accelerating quickly and going in the opposite direction to the train station.

"Hey! What do you think you are...?"

My eyes met the calm gaze of the driver in the rear-view mirror and I fell silent with shock and apprehension. As I tried to gather my thoughts to ask him what he was doing, what he wanted, I noticed a puff of white fumes begin to fill the back seat of the cab behind the Plexiglas partition.

"Oh no," I moaned as I felt myself drifting off into unconsciousness.

Now I really am in trouble.
  37. # DAVID

I'd made up my mind that something wasn't adding up and I needed to talk to the ladies of the so called Sapphire club again. My investigation into what had happened to my partner seemed to be dragging its feet and I needed a lot more information if I was ever going to make any sense of what I'd found out so far. Of the lot of them, I concluded privately that despite the awkward nature of our last parting, Robin would still be my best bet if I wanted to get any honest answers today.

She struck me as having a more honest and forthright approach to things than the other lady I'd spoken to. There was no guile in that girl. What you saw was what you got.

And I'd gotten a lot.

I shook my head in disgust at my randy inner teenager. Damn I was still having totally inappropriate thoughts about the woman.

This has got to stop, my man.

I knew getting her to want to talk to me would be a bit tricky but I was willing to try.

I leaned against the wall in my living room and put my phone to my ear. It was ringing but she hadn't picked up. I had already left a number of messages on her answering machine at home but she hadn't called back. This time I was going to be persistent as hell. I let the call ring out and dialled again. I was a little surprised she hadn't switched off her phone or blocked my number but I wasn't about to second guess my good fortune. I would just use it to my advantage.

Finally she picked up, with understandable hostility in her tone. I could hear the murmur of other feminine voices around her and guessed the ladies must be having one of their infamous brunches again. With some difficulty I persuaded her to meet me at La Biancá.

"Ok, ok, I'll be there soon," I heard her say as she hung up with no goodbye or anything.

"What did you expect Dave?" I asked myself sarcastically as I slid my phone back into my pocket. "It's not like you're at the top of her list of favourite persons right now, is it?"

I knew she would be reluctant to see me but I was unprepared for the obvious chill in her voice over the phone. I could only imagine the artic freeze that would be coming my way when I told her why I'd needed to meet up.

****

I was sitting at a booth at La Biancá. When I saw Robin making her way through the doors I stood up and waved her over. She packed a visual punch as usual and for a few minutes I just enjoyed filling my eyes with the sight of her. To tell the truth, despite the mess surrounding Jerry's death and the possible link to her group of pals, my meeting Robin was the one thing stood out the most. It was the singular ray of joy and goodness that had come out of all this. I liked her, liked her a lot.

Too bad about that partner.

From the look on her face when she caught sight of me, the chill factor was still going strong. At minus zero degrees or less. It was too much to hope for that somehow her friend Nancy hadn't filled her in on who I was and what I was after. Oh well. At least she'd know I wasn't some weird stalker or thief or anything. Nah, I was just a cop who was investigating her and her friends and happened to sleep with her as well. Somehow I doubted that would win me any brownie points. I stifled a heartfelt sigh as I greeted her and scooted over so she could sit on the curved leather seat. I just had to tend to business first and let the chips fall where they may when it came to personal issues. We'd see what happened later.

"Robin, I'm glad you could make it."

"Really? Is glad the word you want to go with David? I guess now I know why you were acting so strangely and popping up all over the place."

I looked back at her silently but made no comment.

"At any rate you should already know that I am not glad to be here so why don't you just cut to the chase and tell me whatever it is you think I need to know so I can get out of here."

So much for observing social niceties.

I could see she was all about business today so I decided to get down to it like she had suggested.

"First I need to ask you a couple of questions." I noticed her shoulders stiffen in response but powered on regardless. "Which one of you girls goes by the name Scribe?"

She looked a bit confused. "Where did you hear that name?

"That's not the important bit. Which one of you is it?" I asked again.

"Why are you asking me that?"

I could see that she would not answer my questions without good reason. She had already demonstrated how tight lipped she could be when it came to her friends.

Don't think about her lips, you fidiot.

"Take a look at this." I passed her my mobile phone. "I'm sure you will recognise most of the people in it. The original is presently being analysed at our crime lab."

I felt sorry to have to do this to her but there was no other way to get the info I needed. She was the one caught on camera, doing a risqué dance with a feather boa to the obvious delight of my friend and partner, Jerry.

After staring at my phone screen in embarrassed silence for a couple of minutes, she finally shut it off and placed it slowly on the table

"Where did you get that?" She asked, her voice little more than a mortified squeak.

Her reaction left me slightly puzzled. She had never struck me as the shy type. One would think she had never seen the video before, let alone played a starring role in in. I decided it must be part of the little girl lost act that she liked to put on.

"That's not important, what is important is what I know." I found myself leaning towards her as I continued. "I know that you girls were blackmailing Jerry and that you killed him or had him killed when he would no longer pay up."

"We weren't blackmailing anybody," she denied hotly. "There must be some kind of mistake."

"Save the lies for someone who cares, Robin, there is no mistake. I saw the proof myself."

She opened her mouth to speak but I waved my hand to indicate she should be silent and carried on with my tirade, all the while watching her closely.

"I know that Scribe is the ring leader and I know that the only way that you can avoid going down with your felonious group of friends is if you come clean and cooperate fully with me and my investigation."

I could tell she was rattled but she covered it well. I felt a twinge of admiration for her but forced myself to stay focused on the matter at hand.

"I'm sorry to burst your bubble Detective, but you do not know squat. So you know that we spent some time with Jerry, big deal. As far as I know that's not considered a crime in the UK. We were all consenting adults after all and from the tape," she gestured towards the phone, "it is clear that he was under no coercion to stay nor was he obligated to participate. I don't know anything about any blackmail either." She insisted stubbornly.

I smiled wickedly. "A funny thing happened at work today. My boss told me that your finger prints and those of one of your cohorts were found at the home of a murder victim whose death my team is also investigating. He was found dead earlier this week. One Kevin Bain, I think his name was. Fancy that, Robin."

I took perverse delight in watching the blood slowly drain from her face, leaving her looking ethereal, pale and very frightened. Good. Perhaps now she would appreciate the magnitude of the situation we were dealing with.

"So we spent some time with him as well. It's still not a crime."

I continued as if she hadn't said a word.

"The security cameras at his place appeared to have been tampered with but our crime lab was working on some of the tapes to see if they would yield any info."

I tapped the back of her hand where it rested on the table top. "You know, you could save us some time by telling us what we need to know. How did you get mixed up in all this?"

Her lovely blue eyes met mine for a moment and for a brief second I thought she was finally going to open up to me. Instead she took a deep breath and struggled to compose herself.

"David, I wish I could help you but there is simply nothing to tell. I wish you the best of luck in your investigation but I fail to see how my friends or I can help you."

"Robin, you have to know that this doesn't look good. How am I supposed to help you if you won't let me in?"

"And why should I trust you? Since when did helping me become your priority, Mr undercover detective?"

"I know you are involved, I could tell by the look on your face the minute I mentioned that guy's name. What is going on here Robin? Help me understand."

"I don't know what you think you saw but I am under a lot of stress at the minute. I lost a friend this week and I am still distraught."

"What friend?"

I listened in silence as she told me about her friend Sybil and how she had been tortured and left for dead like Jerry and Kevin.

When she was through I reached over and picked up her hand, holding it in mine. I remembered our dinner here before the disastrous fiasco that ended with me leaving her place in the middle of the night with some chagrin.

"Robin, you and your friends need to be careful, you are all in danger. For all we know you could be next."

She yanked her hand back out of my grasp.

"Are you threatening me?"

"Merely advising, my dear. You can't deny that things are getting serious and your little sorority appears to be right in the middle of things."

My frustration was showing. She sat there looking at me but kept quiet.

"Look, Robin," I said in a gentler tone, "I am sick and tired of the stonewalling I am getting from you girls, so here's the deal: You and the others have twenty four hours to come clean and turn yourselves in or I'm coming after you."

I dropped some cash on the table for the bill and walked out of the joint, leaving her to her thoughts.
  38. # MAKAYLA

I came to with the sensation of weightlessness all around me. I appeared to be floating on one of the devices I'd made for a more demanding client. It was designed to make sure that our water play did not end with one of us getting drowned when things got more exciting.

That's odd. I wondered how I had come to be here. I tried to get myself out of the water but realised that I was chained to the pool steps. As I puzzled fuzzily over why this should be so, I remembered the taxi, the locked door and the gas. And the face I had seen in the car mirror.

Dear God, no, not like this, we had a deal remember. I know I didn't want to die as an OAP but this isn't an acceptable alternative, you must know that. Please oh please.

As my thoughts got jumbled up with fear, I opened my mouth to scream futilely for help. I knew that none was coming. I knew what lay in stock for me as well. Images of what had been done to the others were burning behind my retinas.

I heard footsteps approaching and heard something that sounded like a camera shutter followed by a bright flash.

Oh God, he was taking pictures now?

The thought of being captured on film made me conscious of the fact that I was naked within the floatation device and somehow made my predicament worse. I licked my lips in a vain attempt to moisten them and gathered up the courage to talk to my abductor.

"Hello?"

There was no response but I sensed I had drawn his attention. I wasn't all together sure that this was a good thing but what was the worst that could happen? Surely if anything, it would only serve to end my torture sooner. Because I had no doubt in my mind that whatever was going to happen next could only bad, very bad for me. I had nothing to lose.

"You don't have to do this you know. I know you don't really want to do this. It doesn't have to be this way."

I heard footsteps moving away. Was I boring him?

"I know who you are," I shouted out defiantly.

The footsteps stopped abruptly

"Yeah, that's right. I recognised you when I saw you in the taxi. What do you want with me you freak?"

At the back of my mind was the thought that it was probably not a good idea to taunt him or to admit that I had seen his features but I was mindless with fright.

After a while I could hear the footsteps resuming but this time they were accompanied by another sound, an expression of mirth. The bastard was laughing at me.

"You won't get away with this. You bastard!" I swore under my breath but by that time I was talking to myself anyhow. I was alone in what I was sure was soon to be my watery grave and there was not a damn thing I could do about it.
  39. # ROBIN

I'd been trying to get Makayla for hours now but she wasn't picking any of my calls. I'd left her a dozen messages but she hadn't called back. Initially I had thought she might be in transit as she'd said she'd be hanging with her family for a while but even if she was going to Aberdeen (which she wasn't) she should have been there by now. A trickle of unease slithered down my spine but I did my best to ignore it. I had more pressing issues to attend to.

After David had left me at La Biancá, I had sat for a while trying to grapple with what he had told me. If what he said was true, then there was a whole new ball game going on and I was just milling around in centre field without a clue.

Blackmail?

It was such an ugly word.

Extortion? Ugh! That was even worse.

I shuddered as I mulled it over. No matter what I had told David, there was no denying what was right in front of my eyes. I wasn't stupid. I'd had my doubts ever since the day I'd thought I'd seen her making a recording of one of our sessions but she had denied it so plausibly I'd let it go. And even when I'd raised my concerns with Sybil she had laughed it off.

Now it had come back to bite us in the ass. The happenings of the past few weeks suddenly took on a fresh tinge of malicious undertones. Nancy and her money making scheme had put us all in this mess. For a minute I speculated on whether she could possibly have had the balls to have done this on her own. Were any of the others involved? There was only one way to find out.

I picked up my phone again.

"Nancy," I bit out. "Is it ok if I come over? We need to talk."

"Right now?" She asked.

"Yeah, it won't take long."

"Ok," she acquiesced readily enough, "See you soon".

I left the restaurant in much the same way that David had about forty five minutes earlier but with a slight difference. I was madder than a wet cat and I didn't care who knew it.

****

I got to Nancy's place sooner than I'd expected. I had hoped to use the transit time to compose myself but it didn't seem to have helped any. I was still hopping mad.

She opened the door to my brusque knock and asked me to come in. From the look on her face she knew it wasn't good news but I wasn't sure if she even had an inkling about what I was here to talk to her about.

I waved aside her offer of tea and jumped right in. There was simply too much animosity roiling around inside me for me to be distracted by refreshments.

"Nancy, do you mind telling me, just what the fuck you were thinking? How could you be so irresponsible, so greedy, so, so... so EVIL?!"

I knew I was ranting but I couldn't seem to help it. She stood there, looking calm and collected as ever and at that moment I truly hated her.

"Robin, what on earth are you going on about? Calm down for a minute and just tell me what is going on."

"Don't bother playing innocent Nancy. I've just had the unexpected pleasure of seeing some of your handiwork. A little visual present from Scribe that has me and Jerry getting it on."

She flushed a dull and unattractive red but I wasn't done yet.

"Nancy, with all we had going on, did you really have to turn to blackmail?" I sneered the word at her with all the venom that was pooling on my insides at that moment. "How could you?"

"I did it for all of us. I added the profits to the pot anyway; I just hid it by adding it to other bulk payments."

I could tell she was lying but I was too incensed care.

"Nancy, don't you know what you've done?"

"What have I done? It was all going well and you never complained when you had a larger piece of the profits, now did you? No, you wanted very little penny you could get your mitts on."

I shook my head in disbelief. "This is all on you, can't you see? This is all your fault. Sybil, Jerry, Kevin. It's all because you wanted a few more stinking pounds in the pot."

"Now hang on just a minute. This can't be my fault."

How did I never notice how obtuse she was?

Even when the truth was staring her right in the face, she preferred to stay true to her own version of things. There was no remorse in her, no contrition that I could see. She didn't even apologise for making use of clips containing my mostly nude body without my consent.

"What do you mean this isn't your fault?"

"Exactly that. Jerry wasn't the first client I sent a video to, so why kill him. And it wasn't like he knew it who sent it to him either."

"He knew it was Scribe."

"Sure but he didn't know who Scribe was. If whoever was doing this was connected to my extracurricular..."

"Your extracurricular bull shit." I interjected.

"Whatever, why didn't they come after me or one of us from the start? Why go after Kevin or Jerry?"

"You mean because they were as much victims as whoever you pissed off with your little scheme."

"My point exactly, Robin. I'm glad I could help you think this through." She said smugly.

I was still seeing red and her cavalier attitude was not helping matters at all.

"Robin," she started tentatively, "David still doesn't know who Scribe is, does he?"

It was very satisfying for me to tell her "He does now." Even though I hadn't told him yet, I fully intended to. She didn't deserve anything from me. Not after this.

"You dirty little tramp," she said angrily. "Why couldn't you keep your stinking mouth shut?!"

"Because I came to tell you that I am through with you, with this shit. I will not go down for what you did. I also came to give you a head's up for old time's sake. David gave each of us twenty four hours to come clean and then he's coming after us."

"But we didn't do this. We're not the ones killing people. Why doesn't he go after the people who killed Sybil and give them a deadline?"

"Nancy, I really don't care what you think. I have been trying to get a hold of Makayla but if you speak to her before I do, please give her the same message".

"Makayla has been playing ostrich, hiding her head in the sands of family love and pretending that all this isn't happening."

"No, Nancy, that would be you, denying the consequences of your actions. No matter what you say, you did this out your own selfish need for more but I can't be bothered to continue arguing with you."

"I'm not surprised you couldn't get her," Nancy said snidely. "The little sticky-fingered thief has probably fled the country. I'm surprised she stuck around this long."

She laughed mockingly when she saw the look on my face. And I wanted to rip my nails across her face and wipe that smirk off forever.

"What are you talking about?" I asked tightly.

"Poor little Robin, you didn't know that Makayla was stealing stuff from each of the houses we went to, did you? I only figured it out recently myself. Who knows maybe she nicked something priceless from someone and that's why all this stuff is going on."

For once, I was left totally speechless. There was nothing left to say. She was right, I'd been a blind ignorant little fool but at least now, at last, my eyes were open. I knew what I had to do.

With one final glare at Nancy, I let myself out of her front door as I fished in my purse for my cell phone.
  40. # UNKNOWN SUBJECT, MALE.

Two down, two to go. My time with the one they call Sphinx was most rewarding. I can still feel my nerve endings singing with delight. My pleasure is difficult to describe. It is a delicious tingly sensation, sweeter than anything the beast and I have come upon during our many years of cohabitation.

Such a pity that the human mind is so fallible. No matter the wondrous sights that the eyes may behold, the ability to mentally retain and recall the grandeur that has been seen is limited. Having found that my memories of Sybil's glorious exit were beginning to fade in clarity all too soon, this time I made alternative arrangements.

This time I have a trophy to mount on my figurative wall. The photographs are exquisite. All my memories are on display. Makayla in all her priceless splendour, captured forever in that timeless moment when her breath ceased and her heart stopped beating. There is a rare and precious beauty that can be found when seeing humanity stripped down to its most empirical of forms.

In death there are no costumes, no artifice of any kind.

My work has brought out the poetry hidden in my soul. I quiver in anticipation when I think of the new inspiration I have received and numerous ways in which I can translate that brilliance into my work. I wasted a few moments simply wishing I could revive her just to witness that precious moment once again. Unfortunately, some things are beyond my talents.

The others will be on their guard now but it will only sweeten the hunt. I will enjoy lying in wait like a jungle cat until my prey is in my sights and I am ready to pounce.
  41. # NANCY

I was very disgruntled at Robin. The stupid little tart. Who did she think she was, coming over to my house, making all that fuss .What nerve! Still I supposed I had to make some effort to coax her into silence or else her actions could seriously upset my plans.

"More than what you are already wading through?" I scoffed silently to myself.

The police were already sniffing at my heels and Sybil's death had only complicated things. Much as I hated to admit it, I would probably have to up sticks and leave much as I imagined Makayla had already prudently done. I laughed out loud when I pictured Robin's face when I told our resident nymphomaniac about our lovely in-house kleptomaniac. Seriously, the look on her face had been priceless.

Regretfully, I reigned in my inappropriate burst of humour and tried to call her again. I wasn't surprised when she didn't pick up. She was probably screening her calls. Still I left her a voicemail.

"Robin, when you get this, please call me. I know when you get a chance to calm down you will realise that I did all this for us and that now more than ever we need to stick together." I hardened my voice. "And in case you have any smart ideas about turning me in, let me remind you that with Makayla on the lam it will be your word against mine as to which of us truly is Scribe. Do call me soon, I'll be waiting," I purred and disconnected the call.

Good.

That would fix the little tramp. In the meantime there were a number of contingency plans that I needed to activate. There was no way I was going to turn myself in and there was no way I was going on the run without putting in place the means to continue to live life in the way that I was accustomed.

It was a good thing Stephen was out of the picture, I mused reflectively.

At least I wouldn't have to worry about him relocating as well. It would have been a nightmare convincing him to do it without telling him the details of why it was suddenly imperative. And there was no way I was going to tell him everything in any case. I just wasn't that kind of person.

I seated myself in front of my home computer and started doing some creative online banking. I had a lot of work to do.
  42. # DAVID

I went back to headquarters in a sour mood. My non-date with Robin had turned me inside out. The girl sure had a way of getting under my skin. My head and heart were at war and the level of internal conflict was a sure sign that neither of them was winning at the moment.

As I entered the office I had shared with Jerry, I felt a now all too familiar pang at his absence and at the thought that he was never coming back. We would never sit opposite each other again while trying to figure out leads. We would never spend the day ragging on each other about our skill as lady's men. And we would never share an order of Chinese together again, right here in this office. I shook my head, helplessly trying to dispel the memories but there was no escaping the thoughts in my head.

I crumbled into my seat and just sat there, staring off into space. I couldn't escape the idea that I was missing some vital clue that was the linchpin of this whole palaver. Jerry, the other guy and now Robin's friends as well.

Jeeze!

What on earth was going on here?

I winced when I remembered her response to my well-meant advice but I steeled myself against any undue sentimentality. My chief had given me a lot of leeway in spearheading this investigation and I had to give him some positive news soon. We all wanted this solved and fast. For Jerry.

My thoughts turned to Robin again. I couldn't seem to stop myself from thinking about her. She had seemed genuinely outraged at the suggestion that the girls could be involved in blackmail.

Was she that good an actress?

I didn't think so. I wasn't sure how much I was willing to believe her at this point but I was inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt. Twenty four hours would pass soon enough and then one way or the other I would get to the bottom of this.

As if my thoughts had conjured her into existence I looked up and saw her making her way through the station lobby.

Huh?

I hurried towards the front desk and was just in time to hear her asking for me from the duty sergeant

"It's alright Chris, I'll take it from here," I told the pert young officer in full uniform. "She's one of mine."

"Ok, Dave, no worries," she said with a smile and turned her attention back to her computer.

I took Robin by the arm and hustled her into my office, shutting the door behind me.

"Oh David," she said tearfully, "you were right".
  43. # ROBIN.

It was such a relief when I turned and saw David standing behind me. I followed him wordlessly past the rows of cubicles in the outer part of the building and into an office with glass windows. I kept my focus on his full head of black hair as I trailed behind him. His familiar presence helped to keep me centred. I didn't realise how tenuous a hold I had on my self-control until he shut the door behind us. Suddenly it was all too much to deal with. Sybil's death, Nancy's betrayal and Makayla's perfidy.

Was I the only one who wasn't involved in something nefarious under the auspices of the Sapphire club? It was a hard pill to swallow but it seemed as if all my so called friends were just out for themselves. Nobody was who I thought they were.

While David drew the blinds and urged me to have a seat, I struggled to compose myself.

"David... Detective...," I began.

"David is fine, Robin," he said gently.

I swallowed but willed myself to continue. "I am here to turn myself in and I will cooperate with your investigation in any way I can."

He leaned back and steepled his fingers while he focused his grey eyes on me intently. I wished he wouldn't do that, it made me very nervous. I was sure I was in all kinds of trouble already plus I had a feeling that I had a big fat bull's-eye painted on my back due to the activities of Sphinx or Scribe or both of them.

I sighed. What had I ever done to deserve this?

It isn't fair, I thought bitterly.

"Look I'll tell you everything ok, just listen."

To his credit he was a very good listener and he waited patiently while I told my tale.

I told him how we'd started the club and how we'd gone about choosing our call signs. I also told him about the online books that Nancy wrote. He raised his eyebrows when I told him that Nancy was Scribe but otherwise made no comment. I stumbled through a recital of all the things I had discovered. I explained how Nancy had made recordings without our knowledge and how Makayla had been pilfering small items from our clients' homes.

I finished by telling him our normal routine for dropping off clients. I hinted at my suspicions that the deaths had to do with Nancy's activities.

"I confronted Nancy earlier, she didn't even deny it. She seemed proud in some sick way. I've tried to talk to Makayla, been calling her all day, to warn her and tell her to come in but I haven't been able to get her on the phone and she hasn't replied to any of the voicemails I've sent her.

And believe me I have sent a lot.

He tilted his head questioningly as he said "Am I missing something here? You've been trying to contact Makayla? Today? I thought you knew. Wasn't that why you came in?"

"Knew what? What are you talking about?"

He swallowed audibly before he said "Robin, I'm so sorry. I thought you'd heard already. Makayla is dead. They found her body dumped in the street near Canon's Corner sometime this morning."

I sat there numbly. I couldn't speak, couldn't think. I just didn't want to believe it. I blinked back tears as I wished unproductively that I could turn back time or wake up and this would all be a horrible misunderstanding.

"Robin, Robin are you alright?"

"I'm, I'm fine. This means... what does this mean, David?"

"From a professional point of view it means that the killer is escalating, getting more confident and hopefully more sloppy and likely to trip up and give us a lead on him. If there is any evidence to be found we will find it, I promise."

"Escalating?"

"Yes, the attacks are getting more frequent and more horrific."

He seemed to remember he was talking about my friend.

He stood up and walked around his desk to crouch in front of me. He took both my hands in his and I looked down at his large, well-formed hands as they cradled mine.

"Robin, I'll spare you the gory details but what that bastard did to Makayla, nobody should die that way. It was horrible. But him dumping the body in the street instead of finding a restroom stall in a mall like he did for the other three shows a deviation from the norm for him. We will catch him. It's going to take us a while but we will get him I promise."

I looked into his eyes and tried to believe him.

"In the meantime, I need you to promise me something."

"I don't know if I can." I replied huskily. I felt drained, as if I had nothing left to give.

"I need you to promise that you will be careful. Don't go out alone. Avoid crowded places and try as much as possible to avoid your usual hunts. We have to assume that this guy is smart. He is clever and organised and he has obviously been watching you lot for a while. I would not want us to underestimate him in any way."

I tried to ignore the fresh chill that his words caused but there was no denying it. David was right. We were not dealing with an amateur. This guy, whoever he was, knew exactly what he was doing. We could only try to make it harder for him to get to me and Nancy and pray for a miracle.

"So what do I do now?" I wondered aloud. I have to tell Nancy. She needs to know about Makayla."

Though I wasn't yet ready to let go of my animosity towards her, she deserved to know what was up.

"Leave Nancy to us. We'll be picking her up shortly anyway, we've got enough on her for multiple counts of extortion and blackmail while we try to sort out the rest of this mess. She'll be safe enough in a holding cell. I am more concerned about you."

I raised my gaze from our linked hands to his face as he asked me "Are you sure you are alright?"

"I guess" I muttered.

I couldn't have been convincing cos he didn't seem to buy it but what else could I tell him?

No I am not fucking ok. As a matter of fact, I'm scared shitless.

Wasn't sure how that would go over.

He stood and walked away stopping by the windows and looking out to the crowded pen.

"I wanted to call and apologise about the other night. I never meant for things to get so out of hand. And I am sorry about meeting you under false pretences."

"I understand," I said with a tinge of bitterness. "You were just doing your job. Catch the perp at any cost right?"

"Robin, you know it was more than that. You were never just a job to me."

"Yeah? And I'm supposed to believe that because...?"

A faint flutter of hope was rising in my breast but I squashed it ruthlessly.

"Because I'll prove it to you. Give me a chance to prove it to you. I wasn't lying when I said I had feelings for you."

I wasn't in a position to trust my feelings at the moment and I bluntly told him so.

"David I am too confused to know my own mind right now or who to trust. You'll need to give me some time."

"Fine."

He crossed back towards me and pulled me to my feet.

"Fine. I will give you all the time you need. But I want you to come and stay with me till this thing is over."

"It will never be over, don't you understand?" I yelled at him shrilly. "David this man, this murderer is out there. He is after me and he is not going to stop till he gets what he wants!"

Until he gets me.

I was getting hysterical; I knew it but couldn't seem to control myself. My nerves had reached their breaking point.

David grabbed me by my shoulders and kissed me roughly, his lips pressing and moulding into mine with passion. I could feel every inch of him pressed up against me and I couldn't help but melt into him. He felt so good, so warm and alive.

"Robin?"

"Hmm...?"

"Stop thinking and shut up," he said as he laid another whopper of a kiss on me.

A gentle clearing of the throat from behind us was what separated us.

"David, when they told me you had a lady in your office I didn't realise it was that kind of lady"

David flushed as he introduced me to the newcomer. I was sure I looked mortified as well because I certainly felt that way.

"Sir, this is Robin, she's the lady I mentioned to you earlier."

From the way he addressed him I gathered that this must be David's boss. He didn't look old enough to be a Chief Inspector but I guessed the police academy was getting them young these days. His eyes rested on me assessingly for a minute as I murmured a vague response to his greeting before he turned his attention back to David.

"Sorry Sir, I got a little carried away." He said sheepishly.

"Do I need to remove you from this case Dave? I know that Jerry was your partner but perhaps you are a little too close to the situation."

He glanced at me meaningfully before he continued.

"In the light of recent developments and all, can we afford to trust your judgement on this one?"

"Of course. I assure you there is no conflict of interest here. My goals are the same as the department's, Sir. I want this sicko off the streets before he has the chance to hurt anyone else."

"Fine. Just know that I'll be keeping a close eye on you and..." His gaze flickered towards me as he tailed off. "Anyway, I know you'll do your best."

"Yes, Sir."

I sagged against David as his boss left us alone.

"Robin, you are coming home with me." He said firmly.

I was too tired to argue and honestly I didn't even want to. David was my safe harbour at the moment and I wasn't inclined to go anywhere without him.
  44. # NANCY

Right, that was me sorted and ready to go. I was travelling light. All I really needed was my notebook and my purse. Everything else was totally replaceable. I had done some creative money transfers and with the kind of cash I'd have, where I was headed if the shops didn't have what I wanted it was simply because they didn't make 'em.

Haha.

I was all set to become Nancy Wainwright of no fixed address. Sounded good to me.

I made my way hurriedly to the grey town car that I'd gotten for our sapphire gigs. I was just reaching it when I saw a female uniformed police officer walking briskly toward me and speaking into the radio mic on her shoulder tag.

Shit!

I wheeled around and swiftly started moving in the opposite direction. I soon came to an abrupt stop as I saw another uniformed cop, a guy this time, coming towards me from the other direction.

"Going somewhere, Nancy?" He asked me factitiously.

I didn't even deign to reply.
  45. # ROBIN

I was standing just outside David's office when I saw a familiar blond haired figure being ushered into an interrogation room. As he had promised, Nancy had been picked up by David's team a short while after I had arrived and I was confident she'd be going nowhere anytime soon.

"I see your friend has arrived," David murmured in my ear.

"She's no friend of mine," I retorted angrily.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait and see her?" he queried gently. "I can make it happen if you wish."

"Not a chance. I don't even want to talk to her, the spiteful bitch!"

I'd gotten her voicemail a little while ago and I couldn't believe that she would stoop so low as to threaten me. I'd promptly shared it with David and his team. From the looks of things, she was going to have a hard time denying her involvement. He had shared my disgust at her attempts to divert suspicion my way but in the end he had convinced the rest of his team that we had bigger fish to fry.

We still did not know who was behind the systematic elimination of my friends. There was no way to tell for certain if the killer was one of the clients Nancy had blackmailed, one that Makayla had robbed or just a random entity that wasn't linked to us in any way.

A bigger concern was that we had no way of knowing who his next target would be. It could be another client like Kevin and Jerry or it could be one of us. Though it rankled, I knew that it was unlikely to be Nancy seeing as she was safe, locked up nice and tight behind bars at the county jail. I was the one who was still at risk. We had no idea what price I would pay for my part in all this but I had decided that I would face that when the time came.

Anyway the police were leaving nothing to chance and were already going over the client list that Nancy had supplied.

"David, please just take me home."

Throwing his arm around my shoulders, he proceeded to do just that.
  46. # UNKNOWN SUBJECT: MALE.

Hmm, of my two remaining gems, one appears to have acquired an annoying penchant for Police company while the other simply is in police custody.

This puts a calculated wrinkle in my plans but it does make things a little more exciting and that is a definite plus. The beast within is infuriated to see our desired prey locked up like a pet animal in a zoo.

But I have a plan that might help with that.

Considering both ladies, it is a toss-up as to which one is more enticing. The flaming red head or the icy blond? Both are flawless gems, rare finds for a connoisseur like me.

Last time the beast won the coin toss but this time it's my turn to choose.

I've always had a weakness for fair-haired beauties.
  47. # NANCY

I was sitting in the holding cell feeling sorry for myself when I heard a rattle of keys on bars near my head. I looked up to see a uniformed cop with a peaked cap on, shadowing most of his face smiling down at me. He looked kind of familiar.

He opened the cell door and stepped inside as I watched him wearily. He wasn't one of the cops that had interrogated me almost forever and I was dreading another session. I had already told them everything I knew. All the fight had gone out of me like the stuffing out of a ripped rag doll once they gave me the news about Makayla.

"Hey, haven't I seen you already?"

"We cops all look the same miss, must be the uniform. We haven't spent any time together today."

Something about the way he said that unsettled me and I felt a bit uncomfortable.

"How can I help you, Officer?"

"Actually I'm here to help you."

"Oh really, help me with what? I am afraid I don't need an interior decorator for these accommodations right this very minute but come back after they have thrown away the key"

He laughed appreciatively at my bit of satire before saying "I can get you out of here."

"You can?"

I was instantly suspicious. Why would a policeman come and offer to help me escape. What did he want?

"Why would you even want to do that?"

"Heard about the stuff you did. Pretty devious." He whistled admiringly. "I like that. I like the way your mind works, Scribe."

Now I was truly alarmed. "Why did you call me that?" Where did you hear that name?"

I took a closer look at him.

"Who are you?"

"Aww. Aren't you just adorable, all frightened and trembling like that?" he crooned. "Never mind. You do not have anything to be afraid of. I promise you, no one will hurt you where I am taking you."

It took a while but it finally clicked. I couldn't believe what an idiot I'd been. How could I have missed what was right in front of my eyes?

The policeman had seemed familiar because he was familiar.

He'd been a client of ours. I remembered that he'd been very impressed with our very unique skill set and had wanted a repeat performance. He'd not been too happy that we'd turned him down. He'd been more incensed when I'd followed up with a video memento of his time with us and asked for his contribution to the sapphire retirement fund. I'd forgotten all about this with all the excitement of the past month but now it was all clear.

I couldn't help the gasp that escaped my lips. He turned to look at me with a knowing smirk on his face.

"It's you. It's been you all along. You are not dead."
  48. # UNKNOWN SUBJECT: MALE

It had been a simple thing to find a spare uniform and kit up. Once I was appropriately attired, finding my way around the police station was relatively easy. No one looks twice at a cop in uniform. It provided the anonymity I needed to approach the blond one in her cell. She was the greater challenge after all and I found I couldn't resist. She really was the smartest of the lot of them. From the look on her face I could tell she was very close to figuring things out if she hadn't already. Oh well. This was why I covered for every eventuality. I had been counting on her willing participation in this jail break but if it wasn't to be...

I pulled out a wicked looking hunting knife, one of a pair that I had acquired a few years back.

"Enough talking sweetheart, let's move this party along. You are coming with me. And you best keep it quiet."

I pressed my blade into her side just above her ribs in silent threat and was gratified to see her immediate response.

Apart from a single whimper, she didn't make any other noises as she followed me docilely out of the cell, down the corridor and up the steps. We were headed for the roof. There was a nice fire escape that led down to a little monitored alley way behind the station.

As we went along, I noticed that it didn't even occur to her to make a run for it. My lips turned down in disapproval. That was the difference between stalkers and the stalked.

Only prey could be frightened into a state of stasis.

Predators like me attack when cornered.

Considering my line of thought, I found it very ironic that the next thing I heard was a voice from behind saying

"Stop! Stop or I'll shoot!"
  49. # DAVID

Despite a warm bath and a soothing bath massage, Robin was still riled up. I knew why but I was keeping my mouth shut for the moment. I wondered how long it would take her to see that she still needed to see Nancy. I could tell she still had a lot on her chest and I doubted she would get any peace until she had spoken to her. They hadn't spoken at the station, not even to discuss Makayla's death.

For now she was wearing a well-trodden path into my royal blue rug as she paced up and down in agitation. Her trademark red hair was flowing behind her as she paced to and fro and I had to admit she made a lovely picture in my short black robe.

When she paced past me one more time, I reached out and snagged her wrist.

"Hey babe," I said, pulling her down to sit beside me where I lounged on my couch. "You can't go on like this."

She met my gaze as she asked me, "Go on like what?"

"Like this, bottling everything up on your insides, not letting me in, not talking to Nancy..."

"Don't mention her name to me."

"Robin, you know that you need to talk to her. If only to say goodbye. If the charges stick and I think they will, she could be sent away for a very long time."

To my surprise, she didn't argue.

"Will you take me back?" Was all she said. "You are right. I do need to talk to her."

"I am always right."

"Don't let it go to your head."

I kissed her knuckles.

"Not that I mind, but are you going in my robe or do you want to change first?"

She looked down at herself as if she had forgotten what she was wearing.

"I am definitely going to change, you pervert."

"You are? Don't change on my account. I like the look you are rocking. You could start a new trend."

I was laughing too hard to dodge the cushion that she threw at my head.
  50. # NANCY

I was following along blindly behind the man I was sure had killed all my friends and clients when I heard what must have been the most beautiful sound I had ever heard in all my adult years: the sound of a cop telling us to freeze.

At the first shout my captor hesitated for about half a minute then accelerated at a speed that left me breathless and trying to keep up with him lest he turn my kidneys into a pin cushion.

As we made it to the roof, I heard the cop's heavy boots pounding up the steps behind us.

"Stop."

Finally the guy holding me hostage stopped.

"Put your hands where I can see them. Drop the knife. Drop it! Now turn around slowly."

He walked over to kick the knife away and in doing so his gaze fell on the face of the man in front of me.

"Jerry?"

Quick as a flash the guy pulled out another knife and drew it across the officer's throat. I watched in horror as a red smile opened obscenely across his neck. He grabbed at his throat with one hand as he collapsed to the floor, his other hand firing his gun in a dead man's reflex action. It happened so fast I didn't even have time to scream.

I felt as if a horse had kicked me dead in the chest and I looked down to see a dark reddish stain spreading across the front of my blouse.

Oh!

As if from a great distance, I heard more footsteps and voices coming our way. Robin and her pet cop came bounding out on to the roof. Our eyes met and the last thing I heard was her calling my name as I lost control of my legs and fell to the ground.
  51. # ROBIN

We'd gotten to the station and discovered that the cell where Nancy was being held was empty. No one could remember seeing her being moved to another cell or being taken out of the station.

I had a bad feeling about this and I told David.

"Relax Robin, how could he take her out of the station?" he asked me.

"Can't you see, that this is exactly what he would do. We already know this guy is smart. Why would he do the predictable thing and come after me when he could take a chance on getting Nancy first?"

I could see he was considering my words.

"If you wanted to leave here with the minimum of interference, where would you go?" I pressed insistently.

He shrugged. "I'd go up to the roof and take the fire escape. That would be the easiest way."

"Show me." I begged.

We started moving swiftly in that direction. We were almost to the roof when I heard a gunshot.

We burst onto the roof to see Nancy swaying there, a massive gunshot wound in her middle and a uniformed cop on the floor with his throat slashed open. The man responsible stood still for a split second and then scampered across the roof towards the fire escape.

David stopped on a dime like a clock work toy that had suddenly run down. His face looked as if he had seen a ghost and in a way I suppose we both had.

"Jerry? Jerry is that you? What is going on here? Where have you been?"

"Sorry Dave. I'd love to stay and play twenty questions and catch up and all that but I've got place to go, people to kill, you know how it is."

"Jerry, you know I can't let you go man." David had already drawn his service revolver and was pointing straight at Jerry with a steady hand while I watched in stupefied silence.

"If you are going to shoot me just do it already, you fucking pansy."

He started backing away towards the ladder on the fire escape.

"Don't do it, Jerry, stop. I'll shoot, I swear I will."

I could hear the pain warring with the determination in his voice. It was a shot he didn't want to take but he had a duty that he was honour bound to carry out.

"Dave, I'm telling you, just walk away. Pretend you never saw any of this. I'll even let you keep your little lady friend," he turned to leer at me, "as a consolation prize. From what I remember, she was one real piece of freaky smoking ass in the bedroom."

"You leave Robin out of this." I heard his voice grow warm with a thread of anger.

"Robin is it? I knew her as Siren. A very apt name if you don't mind me saying so."

He made a mock bow in my direction and used the gesture to cover the movement of his hand as his drew out another knife. I don't know how I saw it but I noticed in time to yell out a warning to David.

I heard him cry out and at the same time, a single gunshot rang out.
  52. # DAVID

I COULDN'T BELIEVE IT!

It all made a sick kind of sense now that I thought about it. No wonder the body I had to identify was so badly mutilated, even his prints were burnt off. He'd wanted to conceal his identity and it had worked, giving him the perfect alibi. We hadn't bothered with a dental identification because Jerry's badge and ID was on the body and the corpse matched Jerry's general physique.

It's hard to be a suspect in a murder investigation when you've been certified dead.

Even though I could see evidence of his evil activities right in front of me I didn't want to shoot him. He'd been my partner and friend for more years than I cared to count and despite all he had done, it had to count for something. I looked at the bloody corpse of the rookie cop who had tried to stop Jerry and I hardened my heart. If he wouldn't come in, he'd come in in a body bag. It was his choice.

"Jerry, this is your last warning."

I fired a warning shot over his head.

I caught a glint of steel and heard a yell from Robin. How silly of me to forget. He always carried his throwing knives, a set of ornately gilded blades that he had always been very proud of. The blade came spinning out of the darkness. I had a split second to try and dodge the knife but I must have been too slow.

I felt a sharp pain in my left shoulder but it faded away into nothingness when I heard a muffled scream and then a sickening thud.

Jerry must have lost his footing or grasp or both in his mad scramble down the ladder. His body lay in a twisted heap on the pavement below. Four stories was a long way to down. From up here he looked like little more than dark smudge.

Tears came to my eyes and I fell back onto the roof. I cried brokenly for my friend Jerry and for what he had become. I cried for the absolute senselessness of his death and the murders he had committed. It didn't make any sense.

I felt someone touching my face tentatively.

"David! David!!"

I could hear her calling my name. I moved my lips in an attempt to reply but the only sound that emerged was a wordless sound of anguish.

"Oh God, David, you are hurt."

I could barely feel the burning in my shoulder over the ache in my heart. It was as if my whole arm had gone numb.

I looked over at the two dead bodies lying a few feet away from me. The poor rookie cop who was just in the wrong place at the same place. And Nancy, who for all her scheming didn't deserve to die. I thought of Jerry, four stories down, really dead this time.

"Robin," I rasped. "Call for help."

I felt her fumbling around in her pocket for her phone. I thought she'd go down and get a posse of cops to help but she seemed reluctant to leave me alone. Her lovely blue eyes were glistening with tears as I succumbed to the beckoning fog of darkness that was swirling around me.

  53. # UNKNOWN SUBJECT MALE: AKA JERRY

Death is one of the most exciting, the most sublime of all human experiences. Too bad it is over so soon.

For a brief moment I was flying.

And then it was all over.
  54. # EPILOGUE ROBIN

There had been a flurry of news stories and graphic headlines. Trust the press to go for any titillating information like Alsatians after a bloody chunk of meat. Nancy, Makayla and Sybil's pictures had been plastered all over the news screens for a while and so was mine. The combination of a so called sex club/ fantasy providers and a string of serial murders was just too big and juicy a story to resist.

Luckily some of our more influential clients had brought pressure to bear and the story focus switched to the issues of the serial killer cop who faked his own death. That had also had a good run though most stories still ended with a reference to the Blood Diamonds as the press had taken to calling us. I had no idea where that name had come from and I hated the negative connotations associated with the name. Still not even I could deny that it had a certain ring to it.

subsequently, the shenanigans of celebrities like Gus Forman and Andy Montague soon eclipsed our little time in the spotlight. I could finally start to believe that it was all over.

After David had recovered minimally and was up and about again, we tried to piece together the details what had really happened.

It still felt a little odd to call him David and not Thomas but he had come clean while he was being treated for the knife wound he'd received that night. It appeared Thomas was not his middle name after all. He'd also come clean about Gina being fictional in all respects. I didn't mind. I understood the desperation he must have felt, trying to solve his partner's horrific murder. Besides, it was all behind us now and I was very optimistic about our future together.

It turned out that Jerry had faked his own death in order to cover his tracks. The keys in his pocket had led the police to a van and another apartment that David had known nothing about in all the years they had worked together.

The apartment had yielded gruesome evidence of Jerry's activities. His scrapbook and lovingly preserved photo albums and other trophies were all there on display. The documented evidence testified to a sickening and twisted mind that had been preying on society for many, many years.

It was all a bit much to swallow and scary as well. I shuddered to think that a policeman who was supposed to protect people had been slaughtering them in; and in such horrific ways as well.

The deranged human mind is a truly frightening entity because no one can predict what it might be capable of.

I felt bad for David though. It was doubly hard on him. He told me it felt as if he had lost Jerry twice. He had decided that there was no reason to tell Jerry's mum about any of this. It would only distress her and with her dementia he wasn't sure how much she would be able to grasp anyhow.

Today was my first day out in a long time. I had slipped out of David's apartment wearing large sunglasses and a black wig. The disguise was a necessary precaution as I didn't want any reporters following me. I had someone special to see.

I smiled down at the tombstone on the small heart shaped plot that Eric had arranged as a resting place for my dear friend's ashes.

"Sybil, my love, I miss you a little more with every passing day. Wish you were here."

I bent down to reverently lay the bunch of vibrant red flowers that I had brought along with me at the foot of the grave. They were the only type of flowers I considered fitting for the larger than life, vibrant woman that had been Sybil.

In her statement to the police, Nancy had confessed that she had been the brains behind the extortion and blackmail scheme and she had run it all on her own without the knowledge of the rest of us. So I was able to put away that tiny sliver of doubt that I'd had about Sybil's possible involvement. I felt a little guilty at ever doubting her. I should have known she'd never be involved in such sneaky or underhand stuff.

I brushed angrily at my cheeks and the tears that were falling despite my frantic blinking. There would be no more crying. The time for tears was passed and I made a fresh promise to Sybil that I would live each day with her as my inspiration and celebrate the gift of life every single day.

With one last look at the tombstone, I walked away. In my head, the words to an old song came to mind and I found myself humming as I went. The memories of my friend would stay with me forever so wherever I went I'd always have a little part of her with me.

"Come on then," I smiled to myself. "We have a date with one delectable policeman and we simply shouldn't keep him waiting."

THE END.

# AFTERWORD

Did you enjoy the book? Please consider leaving me a review wherever you bought it from. Tell a friend about it. Thank you for spending time with me and I hope you enjoyed the reading as much as I enjoyed the writing.

Meanwhile you can turn the page for a sneak peek at the one that started it all, Legitimate Issues. It is available from most E book retailers or flip over for a sneak peak at my next projects War Beast and First Do No Harm

Fiery gemstones and A Little Bit of BLACK MAGIC are also available

You can connect with Cassandra DeBrown via my fan page on Facebook, http://www.facebook.com/CassandraDeBrown

or

Via my Goodreads Author page  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5816839.Cassandra_DeBrown

or

on Library Thing. http://www.librarything.com/profile/brownscribbler01

You can also send me mail at cassandradebrown@hotmail.co.uk or at my wordpress blog: http://cassandradebrown.wordpress.com/

Legitimate Issues

Legitimate Issues: Ebook edition 2012.

© Cassandra DeBrown 2012.

First published February 2012 by Divine Delo Books, A part of Five for Five Entertainment. London 2012.

The right of Cassandra DeBrown to be acknowledged as the author of this work has been established in accordance with the UK copyright laws. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without the express and written permission of the author and publisher prior to use. All rights reserved.

CARL

He ran. He'd been running flat out for five minutes, or maybe even less. Five minutes during which his world had been turned to bloody chaos and life as he knew it had been irrevocably changed.

His heart was pounding in his chest, his breath was choppy and he was losing blood from the gunshot wound on his thigh. Still he ran.

Move your legs, move your legs his head shouted at him while at the back of his mind, cheerleaders were going, "oh yeah we are going to die. Can you spell die, D-I-E? We are going to die."

No, he thought, girls, this time you are wrong, we're already D-E- A-D.

He scuttled around the corner, keeping his head low. Miraculously, there were no more shots from behind him. He looked back at the monster that had be chasing him, the wicked monster with a human face that had killed all those people back there and then focused on him like a raptor fixed on his prey. Surprisingly, the man was just standing there, looking at him, his gun lowered at his side. His merciless black eyes looked amused as he watched Peter try to get away.

That's it? Has he's given up? I got away? How is that possible?

He turned round to keep running, just in case the man changed his mind about letting him go and rammed face first into six feet of solid muscle. He stumbled and fell to the floor, his hand going to his injured thigh, panting with fear and exhaustion.

"Don't hurt me, please don't hurt me", he cried out brokenly as he scuttled backwards, away from the guys. He came to an abrupt stop as his back hit the wall.

"Hello, Peter", the man he'd crashed into said laconically, leaning over him. He brushed his light blond hair off his face in a careless movement before continuing. "Leaving so soon? That's not really nice now is it?"

Peter flinched as sweat dripped off his brow. More terrifying than the fact that he'd been caught by the monster's accomplice, was the fact that the men chasing him, these murderers, knew his name. And he was afraid they were not here to kill him.

But he was wrong. They were there to kill him. Just not only him.

Two hours later.

Both men exited the bed and breakfast without looking back. Behind them they left 5 bodies and one gun, in the hands of the man they had so conveniently framed as being the maniac who had carried out a killing spree at his girlfriend's work place, shooting 2 of her co-workers and one guest before turning the semi – automatic on himself.

They got into the car and drove off, the younger one lighting up a Benson and Hedges as he wound down the window so the smoke wouldn't bother his partner too much.

"Poor Peter", his partner, Hank said, his hair flying in all directions in the breeze from the open window.

"Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Call them by their names, talk to them like they are your friends and all that shit."

Hank thought about it. "I don't know, I guess it's because in our line of work, we don't really get to socialise much. I like meeting new people."

"Meeting new people? You are joking right?" Carl asked sarcastically, looking over at him.

"Not really."

"Killing new people you mean."

"Yeah, but that is just the job. Take Peter, for example. Under normal circumstances, we could have let him go, I mean, the guy really put some effort into getting out of there, unlike those other bozos that just stood around screaming." Hank nodded. "He seemed like a decent guy."

Yep, poor Peter. He should never have dated that girl in the first place. If he hadn't, he'd still be breathing God's free air right about now. Women. Every man since Adam knew that they only brought a guy bad luck. He sighed.

The bad bit about it having to be a murder-suicide situation was that of course, the guy had to be killed near the bodies and look like he was the one who offed himself. Yeah, he bet that just sucked for Peter. Then again, one never knew what these lunatics would do. Like shoot themselves in the thigh.

"Oy. Genius", Hank demanded crossly as he remembered, "What was with shooting the guy in the thigh, huh?"

"I was just trying to wing him, you know, slow him down a little."

"Yeah well, a bullet wound in his thigh, it raises unnecessary questions. And unnecessary questions mean the cops who are bored and underpaid......."

"Bored and underpaid", Carl mouthed along with him. He'd heard this rant or a variation of it several times over the few months, ever since he and Mr Temperamental here had become partners in crime.

".....will start having wet dreams about solving what is obviously an open and shut murder-suicide deal." He noticed the bored look on Carl's face. "I'm serious about this, Carl. Do you not see the issue here?"

"Errm, no, not really, seeing as, duh, the bloke is dead so he can't complain about his thigh now, can he? And the girl is dead like we needed her to be, under circumstances that do not link her to our clients, in the manner that they specified, I might add, so what the fuck is the problem?"

"If you don't know by now, I simply cannot, just cannot be bothered to waste a valuable part of my lifespan trying to explain it to you. Just be more careful next time. You don't want to draw unnecessary attention is all I'm saying."

"Yes mother." Carl smirked. "Just one question though."

"Yeah, and what's that, Sunshine?"

"You always say we should watch out for collateral damage, yet we didn't just get the girl, we got the boyfriend and a few bystanders as well"

"Yeah and your point is?"

"Well, don't they count as collateral damage?"

Hank scowled, he just couldn't help it. Sometimes dealing with Carl was like handling with a two year old. "Yeah but the case in question needed it. Not all collateral damage is bad. You seem to be missing a few key facts. Let me make it simple for you- focus on the word unnecessary and you'll see what I mean."

"Ok Hank, whatever you say."

"Meanwhile, I gotta call Phil; let him know the job's been done."

"Oooh, that sounds good. One sweet payday coming up." Carl was quiet for a moment, thinking back over the past two hours. "You know, for what it's worth, you did a real nice job back there."

"Thanks, I think."

"No, really."

"Yeah whatever, ok. Keep your sick little man crush to yourself, Slick. I'm hungry. What are you in the mood for?"

Carl thought about it for a minute. "Ribs, spare ribs. Could murder some fries as well. Ha-ha murder some fries, get it?"

"Yeah, you're so fucking hilarious, you slay me, you know that? Har –fucking-har", Hank threw back.

Carl just shook his head.

"Alright then, ring 'em up at the usual place and have them deliver. If we time it right they should be getting there just around the time we get to Camden."

"You got it boss."

RAPHAEL

Raphael Adams was not a poor man by anyone's standards. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he'd come from a decidedly poor background quite all right, but the days of living hand-to –mouth were thankfully long behind him. He was a third generation French-Canadian citizen who was based in the UK but liked to think of himself as more of a global citizen. As someone who travelled all over the world and had a corporate base in most major capital cities in Asia, Europe, North America and South Africa, he felt the title 'World Traveller' was definitely coined for him.

No matter where he was in the world, though he stayed true to his roots. His apartments and furnishings were never gaudy or over the stop, just full of items chosen more for their elegance and quality rather than their cost.

He came across as a well-educated and cultured man with a mellow disposition. This was the appearance he had carefully cultivated over the years and it had definitely paid off. There were few doors that did not open to his name and fewer people still who did not know who he was or fall over themselves to satisfy his every need. They did this because apart from obscene wealth, he had the other thing that most people crave and very few ever obtain. Raphael Adams had power.

Unfortunately, right now his legendary mellow disposition was being threatened by a major pain in the neck that was refusing to go away and all his wealth and power simply did not seem to convince this imbecile that dealing with him was not a task for people who were still wet behind the ears. It was an unusual feeling and he found he didn't much like it.

He had spent the last week trying to get a crummy computer programmer to change his mind about signing over a programme he had written to Raphael's company Zetatech Corporation. The programme had potential for use in weapons defence development and he was damned if he was going to let it slip out of his hands.

The fellow had spouted some patriotic nonsense about making it freely available and handing it over to the UK military defence committee to protect the country and help the British Army. Screw that. Raphael had plans to sell it on the international arms market – for a limited time only, and then make it available to individual world leaders at an appropriately high price of course. In the meantime he would get someone else to design the bugs that could crash the software as well - for future use, naturally.

Raphael was not used to being told no, and besides, the ingrate had developed the basics of the programme while he was working at Zetatech, so proprietary issues be dammed. He had paid the slimy worm overtime and therefore all the work he came up with in that timeframe were legally his, or so Adams believed. Not to mention he'd been using his utilities and premises at the time.

Oh well. If the young fool could not see that Raphael was trying to help him out, he would simply have to be taken out of the equation. Life was too short for all this nonsense.

He looked round his office and decided it was time for a change of environment but first he would put in a call to Phillip, his go-to guy for tricky issues like this one that needed a gentle and professional touch outside the auspices of the company home. It was time to put an end to this rubbish.

He thought for a moment. He had recently gotten rid of the stodgy old lawyer that handled his corporate affairs and was in the market for some new legal eagles.

He crossed over to his cabinet and pressed a button concealed behind an antique inkwell. A painting on the wall slid to the side to reveal the safe embedded on his wall. He entered the combination for the lock swiftly and picked out the files he needed.

These two issues needed sorting quickly and efficiently if his plans for Zetatech and the other company Barrington and Co that he had floated as a dummy firm specifically for this EU manufacturing deal were to go ahead as planned.

He shut the safe. The picture slid back into place as he returned to his desk. It was time to make those phone calls.

FRANCES.

He stood there, leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his face. His green eyes twinkled as he looked down on his wife. With his impressive height and solid build, he was a treat for any eyes, not just sore ones. The evening shadow on his chin and his stylishly cut brown hair just added to the package.

"Babe, I did some shopping for you yesterday, I mean, shopping for us"

"For us huh?" she asked smiling up at him from where she sat.

"Yes, for us cos I know I'll get to enjoy the stuff as well."

"What did you get?"

"It's all in the pink bag in the bathroom", he laughed as he turned away, walking towards their in-built bar to pour himself a drink.

"You know about the pink bag", she exclaimed with a laugh, "Why, you master snoopy doo, you."

The pink bag was the reservoir for all her self-help toys and lotions, for when Larry was not at home. Her husband of three years travelled a lot but the brief separations only added spice to their time together when he got back.

Larry smiled mischievously.

"Of course I know about the pink bag", he chuckled. "What kind of husband would I be if I didn't know that's where you keep all the 'good stuff'?"

"Well", Frances said, sliding off the couch in a slinky fashion, "since you said you bought me , I mean us something, I think I had better investigate further and see if I need to charge you VAT for importing contraband into our living area."

"Contraband, is that what they call it these days?"

She walked off towards the bedroom and en-suite, swaying just a little extra to give him a sneak preview of what her behind would be getting up to later. Her long black hair swished like a satin curtain behind her. At just under six feet tall, she knew that she packed a visual punch when she was working it. And in her figure hugging red short shorts and white tee-shirt she was definitely working it.

It was all for Larry's benefit anyway. He'd been away on one of his trips overnight and they had missed each other. She had no doubt that he had picked up something naughty on his way back and she also had no doubt that she would thoroughly enjoy it too. Larry was fun like that. The last time he had brought her a pair of pink lacy and edible panties that he had proceeded to eat off her before he ate her. She got goose pimples just thinking about it.

They had been friends for a long time before they had started dating and because they knew each other so well the sex was simply amazing. Things were great in other departments as well. She giggled to herself. She was never afraid to be herself with him and he was never scared to try new things with her, both in and out of the boudoir.

In the bathroom, she couldn't help but gasp at the audacious gift her darling had left for her. A bottle of "O" by Durex, guaranteed to make her say oooh and a double headed mini vibe.

"Naughty boy", she grinned.

"This could have some seriously positive possibilities", she called out, turning around, "but if you think I'm using this baby on my own", she twirled the two – header round her fingers, "you are grossly mistaken."

She took the opportunity to freshen up her downstairs region and was just removing her contact lenses when she heard a loud crash from the living room and a sound of muffled struggling.

"Larry? Larry, are you alright?" She scrambled for her slippers and started running towards the sounds.

"Larry, what on earth..?" Her voice trailed off at the sight that met her eyes and she came to a dead stop.

"Larry??" she whimpered.

Larry was on the floor, lying in a pool of blood. A tall man wearing a ski mask was standing over him. As she stood there frozen, the man lifted up his eyes and seemed to notice her for the first time.

"Shhh" he said, raising a finger to his lips and slowly raising the gun in his hand. His gentle demeanour and quiet voice seemed an odd contrast to the violent scene before her eyes.

"Goodnight Miss."

Frances shut her eyes and prayed fervently that this was all just a bad dream, that she'd open her eyes and her world would be back to normal.

A single gunshot rang out in the silence, echoing around Frances and Larry's thousand pounds a week flat.
War Beast

War Beast: E book edition 2012.

© Cassandra DeBrown 2012.

The right of Cassandra DeBrown to be acknowledged as the author of this work has been established in accordance with the UK copyright laws. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without the express and written permission of the author and publisher prior to use. All rights reserved.

THE BEGINNING

For the Love of God, Queen and Country

Dec 2001

For Kevin Forrester and his family, as for millions of families around the world, life had changed irrevocably in the aftermath of the September 11 attacks on the world trade centre. His elder brother Martin had been one of the first to be deployed to Afghanistan. Just a few short weeks after the horrific attacks in New York, his platoon had shipped out and taken the fight to the heart of the Taliban. Martin had been one of first causalities of the war. He and five of his unit members had been shot by Taliban guerrilla fighters while on foot patrol. Martin had taken two bullets in the chest. The medical reports said that he had died almost instantly. The remaining two members of his eight-man team had escaped with gunshot wounds and emotional scarring but at least they were still alive so that had to count for something. The bodies of the dead soldiers had been recovered and shipped home in flag covered boxes. Kevin had gone to the airport to collect the body while his mum had stayed at home with their grandmother.

Martin and his brother had been very close but in the six months before his death, the war and the distance between them had placed an unconscious strain on their relationship. The letters that had been full of information and enthusiasm had dwindled slowly as the months went by and the quick war that had been foreseen by many did not come to fruition. Instead it dragged on and on. In time the letters from Martin grew more stilted and less frequent. After a while, they were just missives to say 'Hi, I am alive. No news'. Kevin supposed this was a natural consequence of Martin being in combat situations and on his part did his best to make sure that the replies he sent had enough content to remind Martin of the people he had left behind and the life that he would be returning to after the war. That Martin would not be returning home was a terrible blow but Kevin knew exactly what he had to do. There really was no choice in the matter.

He waited until the military funeral for his brother was over before he shared the news with the family. His mother had wept bitter tears when he had told her of his decision but in the end she knew that there was no other option left for Kevin. He would follow Martin as he always had. He would follow in the footsteps of his big brother, just like he had followed him to the junior league football team, to the boys' scouts, to university and the sports team. He had always idolised his big brother. In the absence of a father figure, Martin had been his role model and he had been an admirable one. It was a simple issue for Kevin to decide that he would go to Afghanistan as well. It made sense that he would go and fight the war that had taken Martin's life. If Martin had thought it was worth dying for, then the least he could do was to do his own fair share and fight as well.

Once the decision was made it was a simple thing to get his kit together, say his goodbye's and take himself down to the Royal marines enlistment centre. It was a little bit harder getting through the physical exams and the rigorous pre-enlistment training exercises. It was a good thing that he had always been a very physical person. He was determined to get through and his determination shone through. He dropped 2 stone and built up a lot of muscle bulk with the weights and machines at the training centre. He was not a muscle freak but he was well built and very athletic looking. At 6 feet 2 inches he was very close to the ideal specimen for military enlistment. His head had always been shaved and the only things that he really had to change were the piercings that he took out from his nose and nipples. The physical training was very intensive but the effort he put in was worth it. He soon got his enlistment papers. It was now official: he was bona fide member of Her Majesty's Royal Marine Corps.

His papers directed him to report to the military training base just outside Peterborough in the East Midlands. He arrived early on the day for processing. The non-descript compound masked a well-developed training facility. The guards at the door looked over his paper work.

"What's your name marine?"

"Kevin Forrester" he replied, forcing his voice out of a suddenly dry mouth and trying not to sound squeaky as the guard checked his photo ID and checked the serial number on his papers against the computer database.

"Forrester, Kevin Sir would be a more appropriate response marine," the guard said cheerfully . "But never mind, you'll learn soon enough Son. On your bike". He pointed towards a building right smack in the middle of the compound. "HQ central. In there you'll get your barracks number and your basic gear. Welcome to the Fort."

Kevin walked forwards towards HQ central. Despite the early hour, the place was teeming with life. There were marines and soldiers everywhere. It appeared this was one of the joint centres for UK military training. There were a lot of different coloured uniforms but most of the men were in camouflage trousers, boots and white tee-shirts.

The officer at the desk took his paperwork and issued him with a base ID card and showed him to the office where he could get his barracks bed allocation, mess kit and other gear. He was very pleasant and introduced himself as Corporal Collins.

"Where are you from marine?"

"I'm from London, Sir, North London." Kevin remembered to tack on the 'Sir' at the last minute. He didn't want to get another reminder today.

"Well, I suppose you will fit in alright here. We have many a London lad here."

"Yes Sir"

Collins signalled to another recruit and told him to take Kevin over to the medical quarters for his med exam and then to show him the mess and barracks.

Kevin found out that they would make a start in the training sessions in the morning. They would be undergoing target practice, rifle training, and close contact combat training as well. Kevin was looking forward to the close contact combat training. The programme was intensive but was designed to make sure that when they were deployed they were able to cope with the conditions on the ground.

It was during the intensive training programme designed to bring the new recruits up to the optimal fitness and training levels that they required for marine duties that Kevin had met his two mates Scott Wesley and Paul Morten. The three of them got rather close and did almost everything together. They volunteered for exercise and training missions together and generally had each other's backs.

Today had been a particularly interesting day at the Fort. They had been participating in close quarters fighting. Their course instructor had explained that a lot of the warfare on the ground in Afghanistan (where they were hoping to be deployed if the war did not end before they got their chance) would be done in the houses and compounds of the Afghani people, on well-defined battle fields like in days gone by. The three of them were still arguing the finer points of the day's training as they made their way off the demo village site.

"So what would you have done?" asked Scott referring to a demo situation that had been set up earlier that day. "The woman was holding two kids."

"And she was also holding what looked to be a pound of C-4 explosives, sucker. You left her alive that's why we got eliminated and those assholes in F- platoon won." Paul had a very competitive streak and losing to the other team had really stung.

"Yeah but aren't we supposed to do what we'd do for real in the field?" Kevin was trying to make sure he got the purpose of the FISH-ING (Fighting in Someone's House) training right. "The whole point of all this is because the war we're heading for is not a stereotypical one. I have no intention of being hauled up on a war crimes charge after this is all over you know."

"Unhuh. And I'm telling you that I'd have put a bullet in each of their heads cos I am not taking any unnecessary chances you understand?" Paul was adamant. He'd been trying to keep up with the guys on most of the physical stuff but he was a wicked sniper with a deadly aim. "Shoot first, regret later lads, it's us or them out there you know. And just because they're in civvies does not mean they can't kill ya deader than a bug you know."

Scott said "I'd still have an issue with the kiddies, man. I'd shoot the woman but the kids? It would be like killing hostages to get the hijacker, you know."

"Better a few to save a lot" Paul quoted back at him.

Kevin was quiet for a while letting the argument just wash over him. It was at times like this that he missed Martin the most. His brother would have known what to do. Then again, Martin had got himself killed over there so perhaps this was not the time to be thinking what would Martin do? Maybe Paul had a point. He needed to just get on with it. It would be hard enough taking lives of actual combatants. Civilian casualties would be harder still.

The men got to their barracks and stuffed their gear into their respective booths. They had a little down town before their next series of tests and the three of them had planned a foray into the neighbouring town to see if they could find some trouble or better yet let some trouble find them. They headed out on foot to the nearest pub and proceeded to let their hair down. Symbolically of course as between them they barely had more than a few very short strands of hair.

As they enjoyed pints of house's finest , they watched the game that was on TV and chatted up some of the town girls making time at the pub. They were getting comfortable when Scott's cell phone buzzed to life.

"Aw man," Paul said irritably. "I told you to leave that shit behind."

"I forgot I had it in my jacket. What do I do?" He showed the fellas the caller Id displayed on the phone's LED screen and they groaned in unison.

Just pick up already. The longer you leave it the more pissed he'll be. Besides we're on R&R time so chill.

"That's it. For him to be calling when we are off base cannot be good news. And why would he be calling me anyhow?"

'Stop being such a wimp. Or do you want me to get it for you?" Kevin asked reaching for the phone.

Brushing Kevin's hand aside before he could grab the Samsung, Scott picked up.

"Yes sir? Sorry sir, I couldn't hear it over the noise in here. He was silent for a bit as the person on the other end barked out some info. "Yes sir...Yes sir, No sir, of course not. Right away, Sir."

He hung up. The other two were still, waiting for him to fill them in. He took a swig from his pint before answering their unspoken questions.

"That was Chief," he said unnecessarily, referring to the camp commanding officer. "He said we should report back to base immediately. He paused as he met his friends' eyes.

"We are shipping out at 0500. We are going to Afghanistan."

FIRST

DO NO HARM

A NOVEL BY Cassandra DeBrown.

© Cassandra DeBrown 2012.

BEATRICE

It was quiet on the female medical ward that night. All the medications had been served and the on-call doctors had retired to the on duty room. All the visitors had gone home and staff nurse Beatrice Trope was doing the rounds to make sure that all the patients were resting comfortably and all was well on the floor.

It had been a pleasant week on the ward so far and Beatrice was looking forward to the weekend. She looked at the clock. The weekend will officially start in a couple of hours she thought to herself and as usual, I am here. She didn't mind though. She had spent a large portion of her life training to become a nurse and it was something she loved doing. Some people said they would do something else if they had to do their lives over. Beatrice could not imagine being anything else but a nurse. From a tender age she'd always been the one putting plasters on people and making ice packs for friends and family when needed. Nursing was in her blood and she liked it being there. Besides, if being a nurse was just a job, she'd have left it long ago. The pay did not make up for the unsocial hours and the stress of the job.

As she walked from booth to booth she thought she heard a noise like a soft thud but could not identify where it had come from. She gestured for one of the wards' health care assistant at the nurses' station to come closer.

"Lizzie, did you hear that noise?"

"What noise sister?" Lizzie asked.

"I heard something a minute ago but I can't seem to place it".

"What did it sound like?" Lizzie asked

"I don't know, just an odd thud or something."

She listened intently for a few more moments but she couldn't hear anything out of the ordinary. Only the hum of the specialised hospital machinery that was being used to monitor everything from the patients' blood pressure to the amount of oxygen currently being pumped through their systems.

"Oh never mind, it was probably one of the doors shutting or something. Have you finished serving the night time refreshments"?

"Yes sister. And everyone seems to be doing fine".

"Good. Good. It's a quiet night tonight", she remarked cheerfully.

"Oh don't say that sister, you jinx it, and then we will not have another peaceful moment till morning" Lizzie exclaimed, only half joking. It had happened before. Especially to her. It was on those nights, at the precise moment when you let your guard down that.... BAM! Something went wrong in a big way. She prayed to the Sainted Virgin every day before she came to this job. She wanted nothing more than for the night to end with no hassles so she could go home to Pedro and Miguel, her two young sons and know that she had survived another night. The hours were terrible but she needed the money and to be fair, it wasn't a half bad job, you merely had to be on your toes and alert for anything odd. An at least she got to be home during the day with her children so her partner could work days as well. It saved them a bundle on child care fees.

"Ok. I'll hold my peace. Let me finish my round all the same".

Beatrice was looking forward to having a little bit of a sit down and a warm drink. She had been up and about since she came on shift. She looked at the time – 2.15 a.m. She was to go on break shortly and would welcome a little down time.

As she approached berth 4D she noticed that one of the lady's legs was dangling off the bed and that the kidney dish that had been left on her bedside cabinet was on the floor. That was probably the noise I heard she thought to herself.

Harriet Richardson had been admitted six days ago and was due for discharge in the morning, once the doctors had finished their rounds. The poor dear had been itching to go home, bless her and would have gone home much sooner if she had had her way.

"Harriet darling, were you trying to sneak out of bed"? She asked, smiling. "Morning will come soon enough if you have had too much of us and then you can go home". She had grown fond of the old lady with her crusty ways and smart mouth. Though she was getting on in age "she was not doddery, no, doddery she was not!!" And she liked to let everyone know it as well.

As Beatrice got closer to the bed, her years of experience as a nurse kicked in and she got an inkling that something was not quite right.

The leg hanging off looked very pale and was tinged with blue. She rushed to the bedside. "Mrs Richardson? Mrs Richardson?" she called out. She pressed the panic button built into the bed head but she knew in her heart it was already too late. She reached out to shake her, to touch her and her body flopped over lifelessly. Her eyes were staring straight ahead and her mouth was opened wide.

Sometime in the past one hour, the dear old lady had breathed her last and would definitely not be going home in the morning after all.

Sure enough the on call doctor certified her dead at 2.30 am that morning. Lizzie shook her head at Beatrice in a disapproving manner. "I told you not to say it was quiet" she muttered darkly under her breath. Beatrice could only look at her mutely. She couldn't understand how someone who was so fit and lively at start of shift, who was supposed to be heading home with a clean bill of health in less than 12 hours' time had suddenly died on the ward with no warning. One thing was sure though. Lizzie was right. I should have kept my big mouth shut. It's definitely no longer a quiet night.

CARLA

It had been a glorious night for Carla. For the first time in six weeks she was not on call on the weekend and she was definitely making the most of it. She had been swimming early that morning at her local health club, soaking for an hour afterwards in the hot tub, simply letting the kinks in her mind and body melt away. She then headed to the beauty salon where her hairdresser, Mario, had whipped up a soothing facial to go with the hair treatments and pedicure that were all she usually had time for. After being pampered to the tips of her toes, she went for a dine- in at Marks and Spencer, enjoying a three course meal before setting of for the best part of her day yet- retail therapy.

As she walked through the huge shopping mall with the dense crowds and beautiful shop displays she reflected that the thing about shopping wasn't that she felt deprived, it was purely that a girl was never happy unless she could afford to spend money on something she didn't actually need at all but wanted at that time.

"That's the main reason why one works anyway ", she said to herself. Not to supply the basic needs of life because let's face how likely was she to starve for real even if she was unemployed. It was to be able to spoil oneself once in a while without feeling beholden to anyone.

She stopped outside a window display. That cat suit would really do wonders for her figure and guess what it was in her colour too. Talk about luck. Red was absolutely her favourite colour. No matter what article of clothing it was, a splash of red was guaranteed to lift her mood and brighten her outlook.
