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serving Joanne.
    ‘I’m yours,’ he agreed. Easing himself from the floor, remembering to get to his knees and not upset her by standing upright, he was still unable to drag his gaze away from the sopping crotch of her panties. Addressing the question directly to her sex, John asked, ‘What did you have in mind?’
    She placed a boot in front of his mouth, silently encouraging him to lick away the spatters of pee that had fallen on the leather. As soon as his mouth began to work against the toe, she said, ‘I’ll fetch you a mop and bucket so you can clean up in here before we leave. Then we’ll get you dressed and you’ll accompany me over the road to Ted and Linda’s party.’
    With his tongue still working against her shoe, John could only nod by way of reply. Even though Joanne bullied him with her insults and commands, pissed in his mouth, threatened him with a riding crop and was now telling him how they would spend their evening, he didn’t think she was as domineering as his bitch of a wife.

Three
    7 Cedar View
    ‘WAS THIS YOUR idea?’ Megan McMurray demanded. ‘Or do I blame your bitch of a wife?’
    Charlie, still dressed as though he was ready to browbeat his minions on the board of directors, considered the sheet of pink vellum in silence. Dark, commanding yet ominously affable, he looked like a man who always got his own way and never backed down from a challenge. Megan had passed his BMW as she walked up the driveway and she thought the sleek yet functional vehicle was strongly reminiscent of the attractive and imposing Mr Grafton.
    Beside the sink, coolly preparing vegetables for their dinner, Rhona Grafton turned to face their visitor. Her shoulders stiffened. The tension briefly turned her model good looks into something stilted and unnatural. With the back of her hand she wiped a stray brunette curl from her forehead. It immediately returned to her brow but she pretended not to notice. The razor-sharp paring knife remained in her clenched fist, like an unvoiced threat. Her ice-blue eyes regarded Megan with frosty hostility. ‘That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it? You don’t know me well enough to know whether I’m a bitch or not. I’ll thank you for an apology unless you can justify that accusation.’
    Megan fixed her with a withering glare. Because she still wore her raven sunglasses she doubted Mrs Grafton got the full impact of the expression. But it gave Megan some small satisfaction to scowl at the picture-perfect vision of Rhona Grafton.
    ‘You want me to justify the accusation?’
    Rhona nodded.
    Megan’s lips broke into a leer. Parodying Rhona’s clipped pronunciation she said, ‘Charles, I simply have to have that McMurray girl. I know you’ve said you fancied riding her, but I think I want her now. I want to eat her pussy and have the pasty little slut begging for more. Do you think that would be possible, Charles? How do you think we could organise such an event?’
    If Rhona Grafton was embarrassed by Megan’s words she kept her emotions contained. Her colour didn’t change and her expression remained poker-faced. Brushing the stray curl from her forehead again, smiling tightly as though she was pleased to be discussing the matter, she said, ‘I had no idea you were an eavesdropper. I think that aspect of your character makes you even more desirable.’ She placed the knife with the vegetables beside the sink and walked to her husband’s side.
    ‘Cock-up,’ Charlie said simply. He flexed a terse smile and handed the sheet of paper to his wife. ‘Your writing, Ronnie. My mistake. I delivered it to the wrong address.’ Glancing at Megan he said, ‘This was supposed to go to that fat lass. The one with all the kids and those fuck-awful pink tracksuits.’
    ‘The Maxwell girl,’ Rhona elaborated.
    ‘Tanya,’ Megan added, supplying her neighbour’s name. ‘Tanya Maxwell.’
    Charlie nodded. ‘I must have shoved it through the wrong letterbox.’ Looking vaguely