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fours. One knelt in front and she sucked him. The other one took her from behind.”
    Mark grinned. “‘Annie your fantasies are as wild as mine.” He drained his cup. “And with that image in mind, I’d better get dressed and leave, or I’ll have you back upstairs again.”
    Closing the door after a slow and steamy embrace, Annie pushed back the melancholy that enveloped her every Sunday. Heck the weekend was over. Mark was back to London and Merchant Banking, and she’d better get her mind ready to face Latin with 3A right after assembly Monday morning.
     
    * * *
     
    Annie made it through the front door, to a ringing phone. It was Mark. “I got held up a bit but I’ll be there. Hopefully in a couple of hours. I’ll bring dinner.”
    An offer she couldn’t refuse!
    Two hours gave her time to finish the little marking she had, straighten the house, shower, shave her legs, and dry her hair. Choosing what to wear took a little while. She settled on a calf-length, indigo batik dress she’d bought on holiday in a street market in France. Full-skirted, the light fabric billowed as she moved, and she fancied Mark would appreciate the thigh-length slits that revealed her legs when she walked. She seldom wore it as it showed far too much to be seen in public, but for an evening home with Mark, ideal. Besides, she doubted she have it on for long.
    What to wear underneath? Knickers were prohibited. A petticoat would spoil the effect. A bra? Seemed silly to wear just that. She settled for the dress and a pair of strappy sandals and was deciding between a cup of tea or a glass of wine when the phone rang. “My love, I’m fifteen minutes away with pizza. Put the oven on.”
    She did just that and laid the table for two, nipping outside for roses to put in a vase, and shining two of her best wineglasses. Crisp ironed linen napkins and a hastily put together salad, completed the table. She had a bottle of wine ready in case Mark didn’t bring one and smiled to herself at the prospect of the evening ahead. This certainly beat putting together a test on the use of the subjunctive.
    Mark’s car pulled up beside her house. “How wonderful to see you!” she said, as she opened the front door and almost croaked. Mark was there all right and so was another man.
    “Annie.” Mark hugged her with one arm, the other hand holding a bottle of wine, and kissed her. “I’ve brought, wine and pizza, and a friend, Alan Branis. Alan, this is Annie Cavendish.”
    There hadn’t been any mention of bringing the friend but Alan had such a warm smile it was impossible not to smile back. “Hello.”
    “Hello, Annie. I brought supper.” He held the pizza box up open-handed, like a waiter. “Can you lead the way to the oven?” The pizza looked and smelled wonderful. “Prawns, goat cheese and mozzarella on pesto,” Alan said, as he slid it onto the shelf. “Mark said it was your favorite. Thought I’d better bring something special. Gate crashing like this.”
    “If the pizza tastes as good as it smells, you’re forgiven.” What else could she say? ‘Get lost I want to be alone with Mark!’
    “Mark really wanted us to meet.”
    Mark had better explain this…eventually. Where was he? Upstairs leaving the seat up? “I enjoy meeting Mark’s friends.” She had so far.
    “You had lunch with Emma and Alistair last weekend.”
    “Yes.” Heck, was he another of the adults who played games? “And now I’m having dinner with you.” Or would when she fixed the table.
    It didn’t take long get the extra place laid and divide two salads between three plates. If there wasn’t enough, it was Mark’s fault.
    “You’re very nice,” Alan said as he uncorked a bottle. “A lot of women would throw a wobbly at a strange man arriving unannounced for dinner.”
    “Maybe I will after you leave.” Annie grinned. “Give Mark what for.”
    “No,” Alan sounded certain, “I don’t think you will.”
    He was right. After good wine,