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breath whistled through his teeth.
    ‘So who says writing doesn’t pay? Apart from ransom notes, of course. 65 million quid? That would pay off a few student loans, wouldn’t it?’ He looked across at Penny, a broad smile on his face. ‘Well, you can count us both in. We’ll help you. What period appeals? Don’t forget you have a historian alongside you.’
    ‘I have?’ She looked across at Scott in surprise.
    ‘I originally got in to do history. I just did it for a year, then managed to change over to law. Funny I never told you that.’ She shook her head. She hadn’t known Scott in his first year. ‘Mind you, apart from the Romans, the Tudors and Stuarts and the two world wars, I hardly know a thing.’
    ‘So that’s it, Pen. Scotty’s your history guru and I’ll provide all the practical help you need.’ Jamie puffed up his chest and threw a Mr Universe pose, followed up by a few pelvic thrusts for good measure.
    ‘Thanks, Jamie. If I get stuck, I’ll know who to ask for help. But in the meantime what I want to know is, should I go ahead with this?’ There was a serious note in her voice now. They both heard it.
    ‘And why the hell not?’ Jamie had no doubts. ‘You might need to get yourself a nom de plume, just in case you start getting begging letters once you are a millionaire. But go for it, I say.’
    She looked across at Scott. He was studying the remains of his tea.
    ‘I can see why you are a bit hesitant.’ He sounded really solemn. She had rarely heard him like this. ‘Who is this guy anyway? You realise, he could be some sort of perv. In fact he’s almost bound to be. Maybe he gets his rocks off thinking about you writing dirty stuff. Maybe he’s grooming you like a paedophile.’ His voice tailed off.
    ‘A paedophile?’ Jamie was scoffing. ‘Auntie Penny is too old for that sort of thing, Scotty. No, she’s more of a MILF.’
    She was used to only understanding a proportion of their conversation but this acronym was a new one to her. He read the incomprehension in her eyes.
    ‘Mum-I’d-like-to-fuck. It’s all the rage. Older woman, younger man. Or men –’ He put just enough emphasis on the last word to redden her cheeks. She made an attempt to get a grip. Could she possibly go ahead with this project? Apart from anything else, there was clearly a lot of new vocabulary to be learned. And as for the grooming thing, could Scott be right? She took a deep breath.
    ‘Well, that solves the question of the “encounter”, as he puts it. I’ll go for an encounter between a MILF and the boy across the road. I’ll call it
Gap in the Curtains
. How does that sound?’
    ‘Pull yourself together.’ Jamie was firing on all cylinders. ‘That’s what you say to a pair of curtains, isn’t it? But I like the basic premise. But the when and the where have still to be addressed. He says a period of history with which you are familiar. Have you got one of those, Pen?’
    ‘Do you know, I think I have.’ She was warming to the task. She would give it a try. If the man were a pervert she would find out soon enough. And it wasn’t as if she was about to meet him in some secluded lane, after all. ‘For the last five years of my life, I have been immersed in Émile Zola’s
Rougon-Macquart
series. That’s twenty books set in nineteenth-century France, mainly in Paris and Provence. I’ll set it in, say, 1875, somewhere down in the South of France. Excellent.’
    ‘Sounds good to me.’ Scott was impressed.
    ‘So, Penelope, when it comes to the old rumpy-pumpy, just what experience do you have to draw upon?’ The future doctor employed his most formal tones while mocking her. She refused to be phased by him. Attack is the best form of defence. She looked him straight in the eye.
    ‘You’re right, Jamie. I haven’t seen a cock for ages. Would you pull yours out for me to take a look at? It might remind me what it’s all about.’
    Both boys goggled. Scott blushed red. Even Jamie was