Amy and Lucy (Part 1)

Amy and Lucy

Amy Druze

The sky was darkening and I heard the car door slam outside. I looked at my watch; he was early. Hurrying around the kitchen, I pulled the chicken out of the oven and carved it, throwing carrots and peas on to two blue plates. I smothered the chicken in my homemade BBQ sauce and placed it on the plates next to freshly mashed potatoes.
‘I’m home. Amy, where’s dinner?’ My husband stormed through into the dining room and I could hear his chair scrape on the new laminate floor as he plonked himself down in it. I picked up our plates and hurried into the dining room, placing his dinner in front of him.
He ripped apart the chicken brutally and tasted it, spitting it out almost immediately.
‘This is revolting! Cook me something else; no don’t even look at me. Cook me something else; I’ll be in my study.’ He stood up and slammed his study door while I picked up his full plate. I placed mine in the microwave so I could warm it up later and began pulling out ingredients for Harry’s dinner.
He never came into the kitchen as it was a ‘woman’s place’, and I never went into his study because it was a ‘man’s place’. It suited me as I kept the kitchen spotless and if I didn’t disturb him, he would be civil towards me.
Twenty minutes later, I had cooked him a completely new meal and had laid it out on the table. He came in and sat down as I came back in with my newly-heated chicken. I sat with my knife and fork poised, waiting for his approval on his new meal. He took a bite, and then took another and another. I sighed in relief and ate my dinner in silence, only sneaking glances at him as he read the business paper next to him and chewed.
His flawless features were only marred by the nose which had been broken during a university rugby match. His eyes were the perfect colour of the sea at its most tranquil, but when he got mad, they darkened as the sea does at its most dangerous. His eyelashes swept his high cheekbones as he blinked and his jaw muscle worked as he chewed noiselessly. His hair was nearly black without a fleck of grey despite his being twenty years my senior at forty six.
I had fallen in love with him eight years ago in a bar when I was at university in the first year of studying law. He walked in with his friends, trying to get over his divorce and loss of custody of his two children. My friends saw how wealthy he was and introduced us, all giggling like school children when his friends talked to them. Harry and I had ended up back at his house where he wooed me into his bed and promised me the world. After a few dates and several amazing sexual encounters, he proposed and I accepted, marrying two weeks later in Barbados with just one of his friends and one of mine as witnesses.
The honeymoon period wasn’t quite as glorious as I would have imagined. We spent a week in Paris ordering room service and another week in Venice where, admittedly, he spent most of the time with his new business associates in important meetings. I hoped that as we hit England things would improve, but they didn’t. We rarely slept in the same bed never mind have sex, and when we did, the sex was quick and loveless. If I asked him if there was something wrong he would freeze me out and sleep in the second bedroom. We hadn’t slept in the same bed for over a month and I was beginning to wonder how I could love him so much.
I looked at him again; he had finished and was folding up his newspaper.
‘Why don’t I give you a massage tonight, Harry? You’ve been so stressed lately, and I’d like to help you unwind a little.’ I put down my knife and fork and looked into his eyes bravely. They were darkening. His voice turned to stone.
‘No, I have got work to do. I will be up at half past five in the morning instead of half past seven, and I still expect my breakfast to be ready.’ He shoved the paper under his arm and pulled down his suit jacket, doing up the buttons. He walked to his study and I could hear him clicking on his laptop. I sighed and finished my dinner, taking mine and Harry’s plates and put them into the dishwasher. I picked up the house phone to call a friend and heard Harry talking. His voice was as soft as it had been eight years before as he proposed to me.
‘She offered me a massage earlier. My skin crawls if I even look at her, I couldn’t stand her having her hands on me; you, on the other hand, I can’t wait until you get yours on me. Anyway, I must go; I have some work to do. I’ll see you tomorrow; I’ll pick you up at six. Goodbye.’ He hung up and my heart was pounding so hard I was surprised my cardigan wasn’t fluttering. I set the phone back in it cradle and began to clean the kitchen, furiously scrubbing the impeccably clean marble counters with a scouring pad until my arm hurt with overuse. I looked at my watch.
Half past nine. I had to get up early so I crept up the cream carpeted stairs and dressed into a pair of pyjamas and turned off the bedroom light. I snuggled under the duvet and curled into a ball, hearing just the ticking of the clock next to me. I closed my eyes, trying to forget the day’s events and fall asleep. The same line chased around my mind; my skin crawls if I even look at her. My skin crawls if I even look at her. My heart started to pound again so I lay on my back, stretched out in a double bed, and stared at the black ceiling.
The silence between the ticks pushed against my eardrums. Suddenly, I heard a creak and strained my ears to hear. A shadow blotted out the light which came from under the door and it opened. I quickly turned on my side away from the door, willing it to just be the cat and that I wasn’t about to receive a beating. I felt the duvet lift up behind me and the sudden heat against my hip as Harry put his hand there. He pulled me onto my back and pulled off my pyjama bottoms, roughly parting my legs and entering me.
He didn’t ask if I was ok with it, or even look at me. I was so desperate for us to have sex that I responded too enthusiastically.
‘Oh Harry, I though you were mad at me. I love you so much, I wish you would stay and sleep here tonight, I feel rather lonely is this bed alone.’ He stopped moving and looked at me for the first time since dinner.
‘Don’t you dare try and make me feel guilty, I’ll sleep where I want, and it’s my house!’ He pulled his penis out, making me feel strangely empty.
‘I’m your wife, Harry. I have been for eight years, is it so wrong for me to want to sleep with my own husband?’ I searched his eyes in the dark and could feel his arm muscles twitch. He struck me with his right hand and got out of bed, walking silently to the room down the hall and shutting it behind him as if nothing had happened. I lifted my hand to touch my right cheek where he had hit me and was welcomed by uncut skin. I sighed in relief; at least I wouldn’t have to clean it up like the last time he had hit me. I pulled on my pyjama bottoms and curled up into a ball again, my back facing the door. I listened intently for another creak indicating Harry returning to apologise yet heard no such sound. Listening to the unrelenting tick of the clock, I fell into a fitful sleep.

Lucy Cavanaugh

I was late again and I knew what would greet me as I opened my office door.
My boss was perched on the edge of my desk and tapping the face of his watch as I flustered in.
‘I’m so sorry I’m late David, the traffic was horrendous on Main Street then I had to run up the stairs because the lift isn’t working again. Is our nine o’clock here yet?’ I set my briefcase down on my desk and tucked my blonde hair behind my ears. I looked up to see him watching me take things out of my case.
‘What? Do I have something on my face? I only had the time to grab one of Michael’s bagels as I raced out of the house.’
‘Yet you had time to apply mascara, eyeliner and lip-gloss. What’s the real reason for your lateness, Lucy?’ He stood up, crossed his arms and raised his right eyebrow quizzically.
‘I told you, the traffic was terrible. I did the make up when I was waiting in the traffic jam. I had to drop the kids off at school and I arranged for Jenny to pick them up and have them this weekend so we can go to Madrid and see the show. All via a hands free headset while signing Henry and Emma’s planners for school as they jumped out of the car.’ I smiled proudly and David smiled too, letting his mock anger go. He leaned over my desk and kissed me, letting his hand linger too long on the back of my neck. The intercom buzzed and we sprung apart.
‘Mrs Cavanaugh, you’re nine o’clock who moved to half past is here. I’ll send her up. Also, I’ve moved all your appointments back half an hour. Also, Mr Cavanaugh called; he said he’ll pick you up for lunch at half past one as you didn’t have time for breakfast this morning.’ I pressed the speak button and thanked my secretary, Maggie.
‘So the loving husband is taking you to lunch. Cancel and tell him you’re working, we can have lunch in my office.’
I laughed, shaking my head. Perching on the edge of my desk, my pencil skirt gathered a little, showing my shapely legs. David stood in front of me, trapping me by putting his arms around me.
‘I’m not cancelling on my husband. We’ll be apart for the weekend and I’m already working late tonight so I’m going to lunch with him.’
‘I’ll extend your break if you come to me instead of to lunch with him. We’ll see who you choose.’ His voice flowed around the soundproof room like velvet and his mouth tasted of spearmint gum as he kissed me again. He smiled and walked into his office, shutting the door behind him.
There was a tentative knock at the door and in bustled a small thin lady, arms full of fabric samples and design portfolios.
‘Hi, you must be Novella Bentley,’ I said, standing up politely and tugging down my skirt. ‘Please take a seat; I’ll just get Mr Benson from the next office. Feel free to take off your jacket and spread your designs on the tables behind you.’ I excused myself from her company, walking into David’s newly decorated office. This room was soundproof as well; it was a necessity as he and I had spent many afternoons having loud sex on his many desks when we had a free slot.
I walked around the desk and sat on David’s lap, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him passionately.
‘Novella’s here, let’s give this one a chance, she looks like a classic beauty and her fabric samples seem adventurous.’
‘I wish I could have you right here, Lucy. I could just rip off that pencil skirt and bring you to orgasm using just my tongue.’ He kissed my neck and grasped my hand, guiding it to his stiffening penis which showed as a bulge under his trousers.
‘Now, now David. It’s rude to leave a potential designer waiting. Calm down and I’ll go and look at her designs.’ I got up and smiled at him, picking up the pencil he deliberately knocked off. ‘Behave yourself Mr Benson. Don’t be too long, we have a free slot after she’s gone and I’m starved of attention.’ I winked and joined Novella back in my office. Standing behind her, I apologised for being so long.
‘These designs are very adventurous, Mrs Bentley.’ I flicked through her folder and pictured them on models.
‘It’s actually Miss Dandle now, my husband and I divorced and I went back to my maiden name, he had an affair you see.’ I flicked through the book idly.
‘I’m not a counsellor Mrs Bentley,’ I said bitchily, not removing my eyes from the designs in front of me. ‘I do not wish to hear about your private life, I wish to hear your reason for making shorts out of chiffon.’ I turned my intense blue eyes on her and saw her shrink back a little in her chair.
‘Well I,’ she stuttered, ‘they’re not really shorts; they’re more of a bikini cover-up for when you’re beside the pool. This is my summer collection, you see.’ I looked back at the design, and felt my heart flutter as I heard David’s door close behind him.
‘Mrs Bentley, it’s so good to see you. How’s your husband?’ He embraced her, kissing her on both cheeks.
‘We divorced; he got custody of Bruno because he moved in to a huge house with his mistress.’ She looked at the floor, as David set his face into a sympathetic expression.
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Novella. Let’s see these designs shall we?’ He stretched out his hand for the design portfolio and flicked through it, gazing intently at her scribbled notes and smiling as he looked up at her.
‘These designs are good Novella, but towards the end of the portfolio, it shows that you were unhappy when you designed the outfits. The colours get darker, bluer even and less imaginative. If you rearrange the designs, mixing the later designs with the earlier ones, it’ll present your ideas better. Also, this outfit is so unique.’ He pointed at the one that I had scowled at.
‘The use of chiffon is so innovative; I would never have imagined of using it for a pair of summer shorts. If your other portfolios are as good as this one, I think we may be able to produce some outfits and put them in next month’s magazine. Leave all of this with me and arrange another appointment with Maggie outside, I’ll look over all five portfolios in great detail and get back to you at our next appointment. See you, Novella.’ He kissed both her cheeks again and showed her out. He turned to see me in the position he was in when I arrived. My arms were crossed over my chest, and my eyebrow was raised menacingly.
‘You always make me seem like the bad cop, the use of chiffon for shorts is atrocious, and you know it is! The entire folder was junk; I’m not having that in my magazine.’ I stormed around my desk and flopped into the swivelling chair.
‘Firstly, it’s our magazine; secondly, she just got a divorce and she’s clearly heartbroken; thirdly, she’s a great designer. You haven’t seen the rest of her designs yet, they could be good.’ He walked to my side of the desk and pulled out the chair I was sitting on. He sat in front of me and pulled the chair back in towards him, spreading his legs so I fitted between them. I leaned back away from him and stared stubbornly out of the window.
‘She’s not a great designer David, she’s crap. She doesn’t know which fabrics to use for which item of clothing. I’ve seen all her designs before from every other designer that walks in here desperate for a chance to appear in the magazine. I’m not having her in the next issue, or in the summer issue.’ I crossed my arms and followed a plane with my eyes across the sky.
‘You, Mrs Cavanaugh, are a very tough woman to please. Why don’t we talk about it over my desk?’ I looked at him and he smiled suggestively. ‘Or we could talk about it right here.’ I shook my head and pushed my chair out.
‘I’m going to lunch. With my husband. I’ll be back in an hour.’

Amy Druze

Clumsily, I set out Harry’s breakfast and stared at my reflection in the window. Thankfully, a bruise hadn’t developed after last night’s incident. It was one minute to half past and I could hear him coming down the stairs. Punctual as ever. Harry hadn’t been a second late for picking me up for our dates. I hurried into the dining room and set his plate in front of his chair and waited for the door to open.
He sat down and ate it in silence, reading his notes for the law case he was doing today. He finished quickly, stood up and left for work, without thanking me for getting up so early and cooking his breakfast.
Sometimes I just want to leave him; run away somewhere and find a better person. A person who looks at me; a person who thanks me for breakfast; a person who kisses me; a person who is my husband and not just the master I’m here to serve as a slave.
I started the dishwasher and slumped on the cream leather sofa, switching on the wide screen television. I could feel my eyelids drooping and I let them fall.

I woke up suddenly to the sound of someone banging on the front door. I jumped up and smoothed my hair down.
‘We’re here to survey the house.’ A tall man looked up at me and stared as if he had never seen a woman before.
‘Why do you need to survey the house?’ I was confused; Harry hadn’t told me about any survey.
‘I believe that Mr Druze is considering putting this house on the market to be sold by January next year. May I ask who you are in relation to Mr Druze?’ His voice was dragging and his hand was still frozen holding the pen and hovering over the blue clipboard he was holding.
‘I’m his wife; I don’t know anything about having a survey. But if Harry set it up, you better come in.’ I stepped back, fumingly angry at Harry for not having told me. I followed the surveyor around the big house and chewed my lip nervously as he checked things off his list and scribbled notes.
We ended up in the vast garden, overlooking the swan pond and staring at dull grey clouds. The bitter wind whipped my blue skirt around my knees.
‘Could you show me to the bottom of the garden? I see another building down there and I need to know whether to increase the asking price or not.’ He smiled politely, and I led the way down to the ‘man shed’ which Harry stopped using since he had become a CEO of his own company.
‘This is my husband’s personal area; it has a fully functional bar, study with internet connection, satellite television, a full size snooker table and a bedroom with en suite bathroom. How much have you valued the property at already?’ I was curious and a thought had just struck me.
‘Nearly one and a half million pounds, this final area might push the price up to two million; do you have a key?’ He looked at me expectantly and I pulled one out of the pocket of my cardigan. I kept this key in case my brother dropped by unrepentantly drunk and needed a place to stay. I unlocked the door, feeling as if I was breaking in. We were welcomed by the vast snooker table, perfectly set up ready for another game, and the shiny optics full of upside down alcohol bottles.
The surveyor gave an involuntary gasp at the size of the ‘man shed’.
‘This is as big as my whole house. I work on commission and if I sell this house, I’ll be able to put a deposit on one.’ He quickly scribbled out the estimate selling price and wrote a new one.
‘How much is it now?’ I was still curious as his eyes had lit up when he had written the new figure.
‘Two and a half million pounds, I reckon. You and your husband will be very rich people once this gets sold. If you want to put it on the market now, I need your bank details and your signature so we can put it in the estate agent’s windows.’
I pulled out a chair from the bar and held out my hands for the paper and pen. I knew my bank details off by heart and he didn’t say anything about needing two signatures. I handed the paper back and shook hands with the surveyor.
‘Which account will the money go in to when the house is sold?’
‘Well, seeing as you’ve signed the form, it’ll be temporarily transferred in to your account then at your discretion it can be transferred into the joint account if you wish. I’ll send you a confirmation letter that the house is on the market and then we’ll give you appointment times for viewings. Will you be in to show the house?’ I nodded. With Harry out a lot of the time, I could intercept the post and show the viewers around myself.
‘Thank you very much, Mr..?’ I held out my hand, waiting for his surname.
‘Pointer, Dan Pointer. It was nice to meet you Mrs Druze.’ I offered him my cheek in a final gesture yet my lips caught his. I jumped back as if I’d been burned and he looked equally as shocked. After a silent moment, we lunged at each other, kissing passionately. He dropped the clipboard and I scattered the snooker balls to the edge of the table. Dan lifted me up onto the edge and I undid his suit trousers hungrily. I kissed him again in the heat of the moment and let him pull off my knickers. I tugged off his trousers and boxer shorts and moaned with joy as he entered me.
I had been so desperate for sex that I didn’t care who I did it with.
All the time that we were having sex, Dan kept checking I was ok and if I was comfortable on the snooker table. I shook my head and he carried me over to the sofa.

Half an hour later, we were lying in the guest bed, the sheets wrapped around us.
‘Oh, gosh; we shouldn’t have done that. Harry will kill me.’ I got up suddenly, jolting Dan awake and he looked around the room. Realisation suddenly dawned when he saw my bronzed back. He jumped up.
‘I’m meant to be getting married tomorrow, I have to go.’ He picked up his shoes and shoved his legs in his boxers and trousers and grabbed his shirt and clipboard as he ran out of the man shed. I got up, the sheet still wrapped around my body. I walked into the main room and looked at the mess we had made. The snooker balls were out of place and the bar stools were not under the bar counter. I skimmed around the room and pushed in the stool as found the triangle for the snooker balls. I quickly set up the balls and raced around to find my clothes. I found my underwear on the bar and shoved them on. My skirt and blouse were on the sofa and I rushed to get dressed. I made the guest bed and rushed out of the man shed, locking it behind me and running up to the main house.

Lucy Cavanaugh

I sat down at the dinner table with Henry, Emma and Michael when the phone rang. Michael, expecting an important call from his business associate, ran to pick it up. He returned with the cordless phone hanging from his right hand.
‘Lucy, David Benson’s on the phone. He says that you should be at a meeting.’ Michael held the phone out to me, his eyebrow raised. I took it apologetically and sat on the stairs.
‘David, hi. What’s the problem?’ I knew what he wanted and smiled at the sound of his voice.
‘I want you Lucy. It’s been four hours and I want you. Come over to mine, say that we have a meeting and you’ll be at the office.’ Michael opened the dining room door and asked if I was ok. I nodded.
‘David, I’m having dinner with my family. I can’t come out right now.’ Michael smiled and went back into the dining room where the children had already finished. I sighed in relief.
‘Lucy, being your boss, I suggest that you come over and we can review your position and role in this partnership. Basically, I want you in every position known to man, and some unknown to man, and I want you in every room of this house. Rachel’s gone out for the evening and we’ve just had a new mattress delivered. Come over and test it with me.’
‘David, I can’t right this second. I’ll finish eating and I’ll be over in an hour ok?’ He agreed and my heart skipped a beat, excited by the prospect of having to sneak around to have sex with David. I walked into the dining room and sat down in the cream dining chair.
‘I’m sorry, darlings. One of our designers has just pulled out and David and I have to find someone by tomorrow before the magazine goes into printing. I’ll be back as soon as I can ok?’ I quickly finished my mashed potatoes and grabbed my coat and car keys.
Starting up my new Mercedes, I stormed down the country lane that separated my house from David’s and pulled into his drive, locking the door and pushing the doorbell impatiently.
The door swung open and David pulled me in, taking off my coat and throwing it onto the sofa. We ripped off each others clothes and slumped onto the white fur rug that dominated the front room. Hungrily, he plunged his cock into me and we had hurried and passionate sex.

I rolled onto my back, my hand on my forehead. I looked at the ceiling, darkening rapidly and felt a hand creep over my stomach.
‘You get better every time, Mrs Cavanaugh. I must try and get you a raise; you work so efficiently, I must have had at least five orgasms downstairs and another four up here. What time is it? Oh, nine o’clock, the missus doesn’t get back for another hour or so, fancy another go?’ He kissed my shoulder again, poking his fingers between my legs.
‘No, I really have to go. I should have gone before we came up here, or even before we did it in the kitchen. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow at work. We have two free slots and then lunch so I’m not coming in. I have to make it up to Michael.’ I got out of bed, clutching the sheet to my body and searching for something to cover myself up with.
‘If you leave now, I’ll have you fired.’ The words paralysed me; I turned to look at David. His tanned skin looked even more tanned against the white sheets and his brown hair flopped over his hand as he rested his head on it nonchalantly.
‘You can’t do that; it would be an unfair dismissal. You always said that business and pleasure shouldn’t influence each other.’
‘You got this job because you were my mistress. You can lose the job because you’re not my mistress anymore.’ His eyebrow arched menacingly. I climbed back onto the bed, crawling towards him with a seductive look on my face.
‘You’re jealous of Michael aren’t you? That he gets to sleep in the same bed as me. You’re jealous that you have to deal with your Plain Jane every night and Michael gets this goddess.’ He laughed and grabbed hold of me, pulling me onto his side of the bed. He got on top of me, slowly unwrapping the sheet from my body. He kissed my collarbone and began kissing down my body. His tongue flicked over my nipples and sent shivers through my body.
‘Oh ok then Mr Benson. Once more.’ He smiled and I wrapped my legs around his waist.

Amy Druze

I was scrubbing the counters in the man shed furiously, trying to scrub away the incident with Dan. My fingers touched my lips where he had kissed me; it felt as if his passionate and lustful kiss was imprinted on my lips which were red because of the furious activity in which I was engrossed. Looking at my watch, I noticed that Harry wasn’t due home for another three hours so I did a final sweep of the man shed and wandered through the garden back into the house. As I walked through the side gate, I noticed Harry’s car and my mind flicked back to this morning; had Harry driven to work or had he taken the tube? He had definitely driven; maybe he was ill and he needed someone to nurse him! I rushed up the stairs, slowing as I heard laughter in the master bedroom. Slowly, curiously, I sneaked to the closed door and pressed my ear against it. I could hear whispering and laughing, then a male voice. Harry.
‘She can’t do it like you Diane; she makes my skin crawl just looking at her.’ My heart thudded so loud I was surprised they couldn’t hear it.
‘Let’s not talk about her. She may be my sister, but we’re certainly not alike in any way, shape or form.’
‘No, your shape and form are better by miles. Plus, you’re not needy like her. Just because I married her doesn’t mean I have to love her, does it?’ My breath caught in my throat so violently, I thought I was going to throw up.
I stumbled into my spare room and grabbed some clothes from the solid oak wardrobe. Shoving them into a suitcase, I pulled my mobile phone out of the bedside cupboard and raced down the back stairs, lugging the suitcase behind me.
I stopped by the door, Harry’s car keys glinting at me. On impulse, I grabbed them and raced to his new BMW, unlocking the car and shoving in my case. I stormed out of the drive, dialling my brother’s number.
‘Jack, I need to stay with you for a couple of days, Harry’s having an affair.’ Tears were streaming down my face, despite the fact that I had left him.
‘Sure Amy, but I’m in a shared house at the moment with a few friends. There’s a spare room so you’ll be fine to stay. It’s the blue house on Shelby Road. And Amy? It’s going to be ok, I promise.’
I nodded mutely and stormed towards Shelby Road, searching for the blue house. It had started to rain and dark pools were forming on the road and the moon was shining through the dense clouds. I found the blue house and dragged my bag up to the front door, nervous and humiliated at having to be helped by my brother. The door opened.
I couldn’t help but stare. She was wrapped in a short blue towel barely covering her modesty; her porcelain skin glowing and her collarbone protruding a little. Her red hair was damp and hung in rat’s tails down her back. Her legs were slim and newly shaved with a little splodge of moisturising cream on her left kneecap.
‘You must be Amy, Jack’s sister, I’m Emily. Come on in, Jack will be down shortly.’ She took a left through to a living room with a large ruby sofa and bare floorboards. Clothes were scattered around the room and Emily rushed around picking them up.
‘Sorry, we had a pretty rowdy party last night. I think Jack got lucky, but unlucky for me, I was drinking the orange juice all night. So, are you older or younger than Jack?’ She sat down on the sofa and patted the empty seat next to her. I sat down.
‘I’m younger. I’m 26 and Jack’s nearly 28.’ She smiled and ruffled her hair, picking up the hairdryer with a well-manicured hand.
‘Hey Amy, you were quick.’ Jack walked into the room with an ebony woman following him. ‘Amy, this is Jenna, Jenna, this is my little sister Amy.’ Jenna smiled apologetically and ruffled her curly hair.
‘I’m going Jack; I’ve left my number on your side table. Call me, okay?’ She smiled and said her goodbyes. Emily raised her eyebrows at my brother, questioning him silently.
‘Don’t bother, Emily. I was pretty trashed last night and I was getting over whatsername, it worked though. Hey sis, drink?’ I nodded.
‘Just water please, Jack.’ He nodded and walked into the kitchen. I could hear him whistling in the kitchen, an old habit that dies hard, and Emily turned on the hairdryer.
Her towel slipped a little and I stood up abruptly, stalking into the kitchen, a little embarrassed.
‘Who’s Emily? And why is she staying in your house?’
‘We house-share. Her boyfriend is away in Paris at the moment, he’s a model. He should be back tomorrow so you’ll get to meet him. Here’s your brew.’ He handed me a white mug filled with tea and he sat down at the table.
‘Talk to me, sis. What’s going on with Harry then?’ He looked into my eyes and I looked into my cup.
‘He’s having an affair. I’m not sure how long it’s been going on, but I don’t think I could go back to him.’
‘I’ll kill him. Do you know who it is?’
‘Diane.’ I looked up at him; his face contorted with shock and anger at her betrayal.
‘Diane? As in our sister Diane? She hates Harry though; she’s always said that she hates him.’
‘She hates him so much she thought she’d jump into bed and betray her own sister by sleeping with her husband.'

End of part 1