I was walking home from the Tender Trap. I’d had hopes that Benny would take me home but she had other plans. I had no idea what those plans were but it clearly wasn’t a quiet night in. She’d arrived at the pub in knife-creased, airforce blue trousers with a white pilot-style shirt (long sleeves, patch pockets and epaulettes) with a black leather waistcoat over. I had a couple of drinks with her and a couple of other girl...

Phoebe Burnett was the Press Relations Officer of the local MP’s party. She called me, one of the political team at the Western Clarion, on a Saturday afternoon. We didn’t publish a Sunday paper so I guessed she wanted something in the Monday edition. “Hi, Wanda, I wondered if you’d like to come over, I think I may have something to interest you. There’s an open bottle of wine calling you too.” I called an Uber and grabbe...

Recollections of the whip: I got home on the Monday morning and caught up with a few household chores, then repaired to my studio to work on a piece that I’d rather neglected. Harriet was away on some sort of ‘fact-finding’ mission, a jolly in other words, and would be away for a little while. I wasn’t upset by that since I had a lot to do and she was a wonderful distraction. I thought about her a lot though. We had had a...

The week passed slowly. I made the adjustments I’d talked to her about and a few more. I went to my framer and had it put in a frame I thought would work well in her house, hoping she’d feel the same. On the Friday morning, I spent a good while getting ready and left home about 12, knowing I’d get to her around 12.45. I’d chosen a simple dress, pale yellow, with matching silk knickers under and rope-soled sandals. The wea...

She was on the phone. “No, Grace, I am not alone. Lauren Noakes is here. Yes, that’s right, the artist. I’ve commissioned her to do a portrait of me. Let’s call it my vanity project. She’s working really hard.” I’d been lucky enough to get Harriet Singer, a famous and highly attractive politician to commission me. She was a huge champion of gay rights, very left wing and yet, somehow, mystifyingly popular with people from...

The tour was good.  Clarrie and I managed to rent a small flat in the heart of Windsor, a stone’s throw from the Castle and the theatre.   The first few days we were doing the technical stuff that has to be boringly and painstakingly precise.  It’s nothing like rehearsing normally.  It’s stop, start, stop, start while the lights, sound, and all the other bits and pieces get checked out.  It is, however, a good test of how...

Flick (Felicity) Caterham was standing when I entered her inner sanctum.  My agent was, quite frankly, one of the best, and, largely thanks to her, my career had flourished.  I was well off, in demand and happy, despite a long yearning to find a lifetime partner.  My friend, Marilyn Foster, had told me that lifetime relationships were for the dull or the unimaginative or those who left their libido in a left luggage offic...

Avril O’Connor was like a sister to me.  I was an only child and, when I met her at boarding school for the first time, I absolutely loathed her.  We were both sixteen, she, tall and skinny, I, short and dumpy.  She had long, slightly wavy and very glossy blonde hair, mine was reddish, and unmanageable.  She was also clever, routinely coming first in any tests we were subjected to.  You probably think that the cause of my...

‘She was beautiful.  I’d never seen anything so beautiful.  Her hair was black, like a rook’s feathers and cascaded down her back almost to her waist.  Her eyes were black too and seemed to flash.  Her costume was exotic, the finest, shimmering silk of blues and golds and whites.  She took my breath away.  I felt that we were destined, intended.’   “I think, Polly, we have a murder.” “What makes you think that?”  So, I to...

“I remember that first night we spent together, a stolen opportunity.  I remember it with such clarity.  You said, ‘I had no idea intimacy could be so, so exciting or satisfying.  I have never experienced that intensity nor the physical explosion which marked the climax of my passion.’  I explained to you that the French call it ‘Le petit mort’ and you laughed and said, ‘I can quite see why, I thought I was having a seizu...

I fear him.  He has never been a violent man but, were he to discover my secrets I fear his anger would know no bounds.  His manhood threatened would be intolerable to him.  We must remain cautious until I return to the Capital and to you, my love.  S delivered your letter to me.  You cannot know how it lifted my spirits. “Oh, George.  Were you a bit of a kinkster?”  Leather straps dangled from the bed’s frame. “I don’t t...

It has been decided that I shall go to Somerset.  I feel myself being torn apart but we must be strong.  I shall write whenever I can and, I pray you, write to the usual place and it will reach me eventually.  Hitherto our clandestine activities have excited me.  Now they feel like a further barrier to our love. Being single was getting on my tits.  Sure, I could do anything I wanted, whenever I wanted as long as it didn’...

We, that is my lover Glenda and I, were staying with a friend, Tessa. Tessa had a marvellously remote cottage set in a wild, wooded landscape. Everything was natural. Her water came direct from a well. The wood she burned was cut from the local woods, even most of her electricity came from solar panels although, for the sake of avoiding dying of starvation she had a small generator too. Tessa was an author. She wrote comp...

It was a year later and I was now living with Eleanor. It was a year during which I had been Clemency free. Well, I say free, but there had been a few very minor incidents. For example, Eleanor had found me staring at the long mirror in her hallway. “What?” she asked. “She was behind me as I brushed my hair, just for a second.” “It’s probably just your mind. Don’t fret. She’s gone.” But she couldn’t hide the concern in he...