"James," she gasped, "I am never, ever, getting in a car with that woman again!" Relax, Fran darling," replied Gabby calmly. "I told you we'd be fine." You nearly killed us!" retorted Fran, her spirit starting to return. "James, darling," she told me indignantly, "on the motorway she went on the hard shoulder and simply flew past a cement lorry on the inside —" He was going too slow," explained Gabby."— and then swerved right across all three lanes. I thought we were dead." James, lover, she's exaggerating," said Gabby."No she isn't," cut in Connie, who had now emerged from the back seat to join us. Normally irrepressible, she too was shaking visibly and in the gathering dusk the whites of her fear-widened eyes stood out starkly against the background of her black face. She would have been as pale as Fran, I suspected, had her skin pigmentation permitted it. "It was terrifying. And when she overtook that bus on that winding country lane —"Gabby clearly felt this was not her fault.. Then she kissed me on the lips.” Wendy sat up, eyes glowing. She did not interrupt this time. “You may as well have had a lesson in kissing,” Ellen whispered. I kissed her. “The music stopped playing, neither of us moved to turn the records over. We still moved, swaying to the silence, kissing. Ellen was a good teacher and I was a good pupil.” I sat my empty wine glass on the table. Wendy watched me, expectantly as if to say, ‘then what?’ “The next thing I knew we were on the couch, me on top. Ellen pulled a blanket over us because it was getting chilly in the room. Ellen found my hand and guided it to her breast. I was petrified, my hand couldn’t move but Ellen did. She was unbuttoning her shirt. She eased my hand inside her bra and I felt bare skin. Ellen was moaning, approvingly. I was hard as a rock and uncomfortable as hell. We were really getting in to it, moving together, hotter that corn about to pop when the front door opened and the hall light switched on.” “What!” Wendy.
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