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dirt on her boss. “I’m sure you’ll find out along the way. And, by the way, how long have you known George?”
“I thought you’d never ask. George and I have been colleagues since 1998 or there about. Shall we talk about something else?”
Chrissie smiled up at Andrew, “Hoist and petard comes to mind.”
Andrew smiled back.

§§§§§



George led Lucy through an archway cut into the high privet hedge that surrounded his tennis court. “I keep this out of sight because I’m such a rotten player.’ George joked, fishing for a complimentary response.
“Oh I’m sure you play very well. Weren’t you and Andrew partners in a doubles match a couple of years ago?”
George grunted, “We went out in the second round. We lost in straight sets to a pair from the Bank of England.” He changed tack, “You know Sue and I have a vineyard in the Loire Valle?” Lucy nodded. “It’s the vendage, grape picking time. How would you and Andrew like to come down for a long weekend and sample some of our previous vintages?”
“That sounds like fun, but can you spare Andrew right now. I know he’s keen to get his feet under the desk at Wilkinson’s.”
“Come now Lucy, where’s the fun in being Chairman if you can’t run things the way you want to? I’m going down next Wednesday. Sue’s got some golf thing on and can’t possibly be spared.”
“I can’t see why not then.” She kissed George on the cheek. “ . . and thank you for throwing Andrew a lifeline, it’s much appreciated.”
Emboldened by her kiss George slid his hand further down Lucy’s back stopping a fraction below her waistline and pulling her gently closer to him.
Lucy resisted the temptation to resist. She knew George of old and had fought off his flirtatious ways on several occasions. Allowing him an extra inch or two of licence on this occasion seemed a small price to pay for Andrew’s new job.
George’s hand slipped a little further and Lucy let it rest on the cheeks of her bottom for a full minute before twisting out of his gasp.
“George, you know I like you a lot but Andrew is my man and you know it.”
“Ah well, one can but ask the question.” George sighed with a droop of his shoulders that Lucy imagined was a much practised gesture.
“We should go back to the party. Your guests will be missing you.” Lucy had intended to say that Sue would be missing him but, on reflection, she realised that Sue probably knew very well where George was all the time. Sue was that sort of woman.

§§§§§



Andrew circulated among the guests with half an eye out for George and Lucy but far from worried about their prolonged absence. He was chatting with some of George’s Sunningdale neighbours when Sue caught his elbow and dragged him away.
“Andrew, come and meet Sir William Williams, he’s just been telling me about a fascinating investment opportunity that has dropped into his lap.”
Andrew followed her across the lawn towards a florid, military looking man wearing a blazer sporting a club badge emblazoned with gold embroidered golf clubs interlaced with the initials ‘NGC’.
“Sir William, this is Andrew McAllister. Andrew is an old friend who has recently joined George in the City.”
“Sir William.” Andrew chose a formal approach extending his hand.
“Please call me Billy, everyone else does.” Sir William shook Andrew’s hand with a firm grip that held on a touch too long, as if seeking some secret response.
“Billy is Captain at Northwood Golf Club in case you hadn’t guessed.” Sue pointed towards the badge on Sir William’s blazer. “So come on Billy, tell Andrew all about your new housing estate.”
The short story, made long by Sir William, centred on twenty-seven acres of prime building land south of Rick¬mansworth which he planned to buy and build on. The new builds, various houses and shops, etc. would be worth close to £100 million in three to four years. Currently he was putting together a consortium to raise £10 million to buy the site from someone who, he was convinced, had seriously undervalued it.
Sue chipped in, “George and I are in, subject to Billy finding the remaining cash. What do you think Andrew?”
“How many shares are you offering?” Andrew directed his question to Sir William.
“I thought five, at £2 million each, but I’d split it if I have to. Not more than ten shares though or there are too many voices at the table.”
Andrew nodded sagely as though he did this sort of thing every day of the week.
“I’ll speak to Lucy, but it sounds like a splendid opportunity.”

§§§§§



The thing about Indian Summers is that the warmth of the day rarely lasts beyond late afternoon. By five o’clock the guests began to offer their thanks for the afternoon and their apologies for needing to leave such a wonderful party. George and Sue stood side by side, staunch pillars of Sunningdale society, shaking hands and thanking their guests for gracing their garden.
When the last one had departed they retired to their lounge and sank into adjacent armchairs.
“Did you get on OK with Lucy?” Sue asked.
George grunted and made no reply.
“I introduced Andrew to Sir William. Do you think he can afford to come in with us?”
“I really don’t know. I’ve promised him a whacking great bonus at the end of the year, but I’ve no idea what he has to hand. No one keeps two million around in cash so he’s bound to need a bit of time to free things up. I could offer him an advance I suppose.”
“Well Sir William needs an answer soon, I gather the vendor is a bit naïve and Sir William wants to get on with it. By the way, did you know that they call him Captain Billy at Northwood? I’m playing there next week; he’s bound to ask me.”

§§§§§



The Porsche Panamera purred as Andrew backed off the throttle on the Bells Hill approach to Stoke Poges. Lucy had been relating her tale of George’s flirtatious fumbling and they were both close to convulsions of laughter. Andrew had expected something of the sort and had every confidence in Lucy’s ability to deal with it. With luck George would not try it again, for a while anyway.
In turn, Andrew explained about the investment opportunity while deliberately failing to mention Sue’s unexpected intimate kiss. Williams Fine Homes were a renowned national building company, if Sir William reckoned it was a good deal, it probably was. They fell to discussing the idea as they drove under the M40 into Gerrards Cross. The thing that worried Andrew was that the investment seemed too small. How come Sir William would need partners to raise ten million? Andrew understood the idea of spreading the risk, but there didn’t seem to be much risk in the deal to spread, especially for a company of the size of Williams Fine Homes. But then, George would not put his own cash into anything too risky, would he? Then again, how many investment opportunities came along to give you a ten fold return inside four years?
Over dinner, Andrew remembered Sue’s invitation to Lucy to join her for the golf match and Lucy remembered George’s invitation to his vineyard in the Loire Valley.

§§§§§



Lucy parked the Jaguar in the NGC car-park and looked around for Sue’s pastille blue BMW Z3, not wanting to venture into the new territory of the Club House without her sponsor. She sank down in her seat keeping an eye on the rear-view mirror for the distinctive coloured sports-car to arrive. The match was scheduled to tee off at ten and a procession of cars began to arrive making her glad that she had parked while there was still plenty of space. A bronze Bentley parked in the space marked ‘Captain’ and she watched the driver fastidiously comb his hair before emerging from the car and striding towards the club house.
When Sue arrived, Lucy walked across the car-park to meet her and was rewarded with a bag of clubs to carry.
“Don’t worry about the bag, I’ve ordered a cart for the round.” Sue led the way into the club house carrying a small holdall with her shoes and gloves to change into before the match. Sir William met them at in the foyer.
“Susan my dear,” He held out both arms for the perfunctory air kiss? “. . . and this is?
“And this is Lucy McAllister, Andrew’s wife and possible investor. She’s my caddy for today.”
Sir William offered his hand with the slightest bow of his head.
“Welcome to Northwood, Lucy. Enjoy the match. I hope to meet you again afterwards.”
Sue was due to tee off in the second foursome and spent the waiting time introducing Lucy to the Sunningdale Ladies who were all charming, well groomed and great golfers. It was not until the last few moments that Sue found time to ask Lucy if George had been his usual jolly self at the weekend.
“He’s OK. I’m used to our macho-men. They all think that they are the masters of the universe but we wives know better when we dole out the aspirins on the morning after.”
“Well then, do you think you could cope with a weekend down at the vineyard? George is driving down tomorrow morning but I thought you and I might go together on Friday.”
The thought of spending a whole weekend with George and Sue had been a difficult discussion in the McAllister house, but in the end, Andrew had twisted her arm and so her answer was, “Why not?”
As they cleared the last hole of the nine-hole match, dragging aching limbs back into the club house, Sue insisted that Lucy took advantage of the changing room facilities before lunch. Lucy happily went along with the idea keen to freshen up after the morning’s exercise and before sitting down with these well-coiffured Sunningdale ladies. What she had not quite expected was the communal shower facility and the close attention that Sue had paid to her younger tighter curves.


A TALE OF A RING TONE



The opening bars of ‘It Ain’t Easy’ by the Sugababes resonated through the miniature speaker of Susie Middleton’s mobile phone.
“Mum, I’ve lost me mobi.”
There had been times when Emma would have cheerfully flushed her daughter’s musical ‘mobi’ down the toilet. The wretched thing never stopped ringing.
“It’s my mobi Suze.” Emma tried for the umpteenth time to correct Susie’s grammar.
“No it’s not, it’s mine and my name is Susie, not Suze. . . . . . Anyway I’ve found it.”
Emma wiped the condensation off her bathroom mirror and went back to applying her mascara. Could it have been six months since David had first walked through her front door? Six months ago the Sugababes ring tone was an expense too far, David had made such a change to her life, and Suze’s. The re-mortgage plan had been a master stroke and, with David’s help, she had stayed on budget from month to month since then. She glanced at her watch, seven o’clock; Steve would be here in a few minutes to collect Suze for the weekend. At seven thirty, David would be here to take her out to dinner, and probably back to his place for the night. She was a bit late, Steve wouldn’t mind, he would pick Suze up and run. They had hardly spoken to each other in a year. It seemed a bit hard on Suze but it was all too late now. She was sure that Steve would spoil his daughter, he always did. Suze had spent

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