Candice did not mention the Texan again throughout the meal. Instead, she played games with Andy as she invented one new persona after another.

“You know,” Andy said, “I think I know who you are.”

“A well-known fantasist and confidence trickster?”

“No, I think you must be a scriptwriter, or a novelist, something like that, someone who lives off their imagination.”

“Like I said, a fantasist—”

“and confidence trickster," he said. "Yes, possibly, but the picture I’m getting is someone who is creative and innovative, who could be fun to know.”

“Am I right in thinking," she said, her face serious for a second, "that you would fancy me whatever I did or whoever I turned out to be?”

He grinned. Should he acknowledge that she was breaking role? maybe not... “Something like that.”

“So are you weak-willed or desperate?”

“Neither. If either of those possibilities were true, I think my wife would have given up on me years ago. I am a man with vision and determination and an ability to take the long view and see it through.” He chuckled. “also... I’m amazingly modest.”

Candice sat for a moment looking at him across the table, trying to be serious.

"You think your wife would have given up on you?"

"I guess there's no way of knowing, because I'm not like that, but I think my wife could pick up any man she chose, so I must be pretty good to know."

“Oh... right,” she looked down, struggling to suppress a giggle. “Well, I’m glad we got that cleared up.”

“Would you care for an after-dinner drink? I imagine the restaurant would like to clear our table at some point.”

“In the bar? I’m not sure about that,” she said.

“Too many Texans?”  Andy hesitated for a second. “Do you think he would want to buy me that drink he owes me?”

Candice laughed. “Is there somewhere else?”

“We could go to a club," he said, "or if it’s not too forward of me, I have a suite.”

“A suite?”

“Rather a nice one, actually. It has a lounge with a huge TV, its own bar and two bedrooms.”

“Do you suppose the Texan has something like that?”

“If you could remember his room number, we could find out.”

“I think he said he was on the second floor, where is your suite?”

“On the top floor.”

“Oh, then let’s go to yours. Is there a good view?”

“If you enjoy urban landscapes. It’s at its best at night, lots of lights and the grime and fumes are invisible.”

“Is it very bright?”

Where was she heading with this? Andy took a metaphorical deep breath and played along.

“I guess so,” he said, “but there are curtains so it’s not a problem.”

“You could wear a mask to sleep.”

Okay, so that’s where she’s going.

“So I could sleep with the curtains open? I’ve never tried that. Do those things stay on all night?”

“Mine never comes off.”

“Good to know. So may I offer you a drink in my suite?”

“Certainly. Could I ask one favour?”

“Of course.”

“I’d like to walk to the elevators through the bar.”

“Your Texan might be there?”

“I know... That’s the point.”

Candice giggled, hooked her arm through his and set off towards the bar. The Texan was there, she waved, or to be more exact moved her hand enough to be noticed and not a centimetre more; as if to say, 'see, he did come.' Andy smiled at the world in general, a quiet satisfied grin, aimed at the gaggle of random businessmen, saying quite clearly ‘I got the girl, what did you get?’ The suite was everything he claimed.

“It would be a pity to shut out such a view,” she said.

“You mean you want me to wear a mask to sleep? Do you have it with you?”

“I do,” she said.

“So how would you get it back tomorrow?”

“I suppose I’ll have to stay the night. Can I have the other bedroom or do I have to find the Texan?”

“A good thing there are two rooms.”

“I like a man who is ready for anything.”

“Do you have any luggage?”

“I left it at reception.”

“Shall I call down and ask them to send it up?”

“You could,” she said. She looked at Andy and grinned. “Or I could. Were you worried that I was going to go down myself and check-in with you-know-who on the way.”

Andy smiled and spread his arms in a ‘who me?’ gesture. “You don’t seem like that sort of girl.”

Candice picked up the phone and called reception. “Could you bring my bag up to the Andrew’s suite please?”

She put the phone down. “See,” she said. “Easy.”

“Do you take an overnight bag on all your dates?”

“A bit forward of me you think? I had a feeling. It could have been difficult if you’d only had one room.”

Andy raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not the sort of girl who jumps into bed on a first date... I know women like that... they—”

“Deserve to be spanked?”

“Caned. Caning is more accurate, or so I’m told. Also, I happen to have some evidence that spanking isn’t always effective. Some women start to like it.”

“An interesting observation. Am I allowed to ask how far you would go on a first date?”

Candice strolled over to the window and stood with her back to him, looking out of the window for a minute.

“What you said about being a writer; were you serious?”

“This is your answer to ‘how far you would go?’”

“Yes in a way.” She turned away from the window and he saw that look again; more mischief.

“I was considering your question, but in my mind, there were so many possibilities. Looking out there I had this feeling that I could be looking right at some of those stories. If we had a camera with a long lens, we could zoom in on them.”

“I’m not sure they would like that.”

“It could be a series, the camera always starts with the couple in this room. The camera pans across the city and zooms in on a room, like the beginning of that Hitchcock film.”

“Psycho? Not a good one to emulate.”

She waved a hand to silence him, wanting to stick to her train of thought. “Here’s the catch, we don’t see much detail of what’s happening in the room we have the lens on but the couple in this room, us I mean, start copying what they can see in the lens, acting out the same scene but making it their own. Do you get it?”

“It’s a way to make short movies on the cheap?”

She laughed. “Yes. I guess, though putting it like that makes it sound less enticing. The biggest market is probably porn movies, but there could be all sorts. Imagine zooming in on some crime, or maybe a poker game—”

“Strip poker?”

“You have a dirty mind, but you obviously get the idea. I know it’s a tad unoriginal, I mean it’s part ‘Rear Window’, part streets of San Francisco, maybe Psycho too, but what if it was done as shorts, like a video podcast.”

“So who would you act out these stories?”

“I thought I’d ask that woman who introduced me to Marsha. It needs a real slut, someone who would be turned on by whatever was thrown at her.”

“Who would play opposite her?”

“I don’t know, it doesn’t matter much, really the film is about what’s happening in her mind. Actually that’s the way it diverges from all those other plots. The telescope scene is what gets her going, after that it’s all in her mind.”

“But if she’s imagining a gang bang, you’d need a gang.”

“Good point.”
 
“You should make notes, get the basics on paper, you can borrow my laptop if you like.”

“You like the idea?”

“I think it could be interesting. Why don’t you throw in a modern Arabian Nights angle?”

“Arabian nights? Would you care to elaborate?”

“This woman who stares out of the window, the script imagining woman, is finding stories to please her master. He requires her to act out the tales. He is turned on by them but at the same time made desperately jealous—”

“You mean she has to perform to please him, but if the story isn’t good enough she gets punished... Oh, I like this.” She looked out of the window again for a few seconds, then spun around to face Andy. “I wish we had a camera.”

“You’d start filming now?”

“Yes... well no... I was imagining, trying to picture how it would look,” she went back to the window, standing, legs spread, arms outstretched, pressed against the glass. “I thought a picture like this would be a good logo, naked of course.” For a second her hands went to her face. “but you can’t take one like that tonight.”

“Why not?”

“First date, remember.”

Andy eased himself into one of the armchairs and tried to take stock. The game was going well, Candice was beginning to emerge, but was it what she wanted? Was the only way to find out to keep playing, or was there some way to stop and compare notes?

“I haven’t been on too many first dates,” Andy said, “so I’m struggling here.”

“You’re doing fine. It’s been fun. I think this game could be what I was looking for.”

“The script game?”

“Yeah. Assuming I could write them.”

“What if someone else wrote a script for you?”

“And I get to act it?”

“I thought that other woman was doing the acting.”

“Um, yeah, yeah, of course, but maybe I should do some, don't you think, so I really understood how it worked.”

“So you would do it exactly as it was written?” Andy said.

“Ah, yes,” she said. “Interesting. I see where that’s going.”

“Is it going anywhere you’d like to go?”

“I think it could. Who would write these other scripts?”

“We could sell it a bit like vanity publishing. Write a script and pay a fee to have it made. Or we could offer to have it made as a prize. There’d have to be some safeguards of course. Nothing too dangerous or criminal.”

“You mean some random person writes his fantasy as a script, like he meets this woman and she takes one look at him and she falls at his feet,” she tried to suppress a low chuckle. “If some of the action was ad-libbed it could be risky? Who would do the safeguarding?”

“You could.”

“No. That would take away the challenge. If I’m the actress, then I’d have to act the script, not write it.”

Ah, he thought, there’s the out-of-control element — being used, having no choice. “I could do that,” he said.

“I had you pencilled in as the master.”

Andy felt his heart accelerate, for a second he thought it would leap out of his chest. He took a deep breath.

“I guess the safeguarding should be the master’s job. That’s what masters do, isn’t it? They have to take full responsibility for their charges don’t they?”

“Good,” Candice said, “Very good. I’m glad we’ve got that cleared up.”

Andy got up and moved to the bar, poured himself a Macallan.

“Can I get you something?”

“What do you suppose Candice drinks?”

“I thought you would know,” Andy said, playing along.

“I’ll know when I know,” she said. “Mix something, try me.”

Andy chuckled and disappeared behind the bar. Candice went back to the window and her imagination. Five minutes later Andy had two drinks prepared.

Candice turned to look.

“Which one is yours?”

“Neither, I’m giving you a choice.”

“What’s the difference?”

“In my mind, one is for Candy and the other for Candice. I’m interested to see which you choose.”

“Who is this Candy?”

He smiled. Okay, so we’re still in the game, he thought. “Sorry, my mistake, she’s a friend of Marsha’s”

“How well do you know Marsha? I thought she was gay.”

“I think she leans both ways.”

“Leans?”

“You know what I mean.”

“So we both could...”

“Sure, but let’s not go there. Try the cocktails.”

Andy watched as Candice sipped one and then the other, before going behind the bar and pouring herself some water. After a swig to refresh her palette, she tested them again.

“This one is Candice.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“And the secret recipe is?”

“A secret?”

“Andy I can’t have a signature cocktail unless I have the recipe.”

“I’ll trade you.”

“For what?”

“Another date.”

Candice fell back on the sofa laughing.

“Okay,” she said, “that’s a fair trade.”

“Bear in mind that the available ingredients here are limited, something more sophisticated could be cooked up in a better stocked bar."

"Quit the excuses and tell me."

"The one you picked,” he said, “is watermelon juice with vodka and a little cayenne pepper. The other one is vodka and red bull.”

“With the pepper as well?”

“Oh sure, I thought it added something. I thought the second one was more like Candy’s style.”

Candice lay back on the sofa and closed her eyes as she sipped the cocktail.

“I think,” she said, speaking slowly letting the words swirl around as if she was tasting them, “I think, seeing as we’re going to have another date, maybe it’s time you kissed me.”

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Two hours later Andy lay in bed, naked, with the curtains wide open, wearing the eye mask that Candice had given him. He lay, awake, wondering what she planned to do next.

He could get out of bed and go into the other room, but who knew where that would lead. He was supposed to be the master, but was he? That whole master-slave business was make-believe wasn’t it, but it was Candy’s make-believe. What did Candice think about that? That was the point of this date, wasn’t it? To find out. Therefore, he worked out as he lay there, if he broke the spell and went into her room, then he would never know how the game ended.

It was a circle he was forced to go around and the so-called slave was calling the shots. What if he just broke it; told Candice he was the master and insisted on being masterful? Candice could say that was Candy’s game, maybe invent new rules and keep him guessing. She had all the cards. He had to let it play out for as long as he could stand it.

Everything was still going around in his head when he fell asleep.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

At three in the morning, the alarm clock under her pillow woke Candice. She carefully removed the metal from her various piercings and replaced the metal jewellery with silicone substitutes. Comfort and agility were needed for her next move, an unexpected twinge from steel catching on a bed sheet could throw her off her game.

She strolled from the dressing table to the chair and picked up diaphanous, almost transparent nightdress.

She eased the door open and sneaked into the lounge between the two bedrooms. Andy’s door was open. She glanced in that direction to check that he wasn't awake but headed for the window. Five minutes later, her nerves steady and feeling calm, she turned back towards the bedroom. She stood for a minute looking at Andy sleeping, a slow smile creeping over her face.

She could let him sleep, it was all a game wasn’t it, she could leave it or she could push it one more notch. She knelt by the bedside and leaned over to breathe on Andy’s cock. It was a strain on her neck, too far to lean and her breath wasn’t hot enough to produce a result.

If she touched him he’d be bound to wake up, but just watching achieved nothing. She could go back to bed. The night had been fun, and for sure they’d both learned a lot. She was confident now. She could be Candice and be a mum, and keep Candy under control, bring her out now and then and Andy could keep her safe.

Was that enough? Obviously it was; it was brilliant really, she wanted to tell Marsha about it, but... could she get into Andy’s dreams? That was a serious fantasy.

Kneeling on the floor beside the bed Candice slowly pushed a pillow alongside Andy, easing it against him inch by inch, listening all the while to his breathing.  What was it she’d read about dreaming sleep, something about eye movement, rapid eye movement? Yes, that was it, and there was something about breathing too. She looked for another pillow. They must be in a cupboard somewhere. Better to look in her room.

She found two pillows in her wardrobe and had a quick look at the Internet on her phone to discover that dreams happen when there were rapid eye movements and marked physical changes, large fluctuations in respiration and thermoregulation it said, whatever that was. The body abruptly loses muscle tone. It must be possible to spot that.

As she passed the dresser she had another idea before she sneaked back into Andy’s room and carefully placed another pillow on top of the one she had in place already, and then another alongside that. Five minutes later his breathing changed. By then she was very wide awake and trembling with excitement. She eased herself onto the bed, resting on the pillow so that her shoulders were supported and she could touch his cock with her tongue. Did erections work in dreams? She’d read somewhere about wet dreams — that might be fun.

It took a minute before she felt his cock stir enough to get her lips around it and slowly build an erection. She could feel her own excitement rising, feel herself getting wet, but she didn’t dare come.

She was sure that if she aroused Andy too much, he’d be bound to wake; that wasn’t her plan, not that she had a plan, more of a loose idea. Or more like a fantasy. She wanted Andy to have sexy dreams to make up for the sex she was depriving him of while her piercings healed.

Five minutes of work with her tongue and lips had kept him aroused, but it was tiring. Enthusiastic oral sex was easier to do than this silent, carefully controlled gentle stimulation. When she couldn’t do any more without getting cramp in her jaw she pulled back, applied lipstick rather generously and planted a kiss on his erect cock. That would have to do. If he’d had the right dream, she wanted him to know that she’d given it to him.

Five minutes later, back in bed she re-set her alarm and allowed herself to go to sleep.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Andy woke to the smell of coffee. He took off the sleep mask and stretched in bed. Should he investigate the coffee, or shower first, or at least pee first. He’d ambled into the bathroom without opening his eyes more than halfway, but the bathroom had bright lights and a full-length mirror.

He stood staring at the image in front of him and then he remembered the dream. Candice, holding a cup of steaming coffee in one hand was standing as far away as she could while still getting a side view of his face through the half-open door. She saw him smile. That was enough.

She retreated to her bedroom, dressed in a pair of casual slacks and a pristine figure-hugging polo-neck sweater. She hung her new jacket over the back of a chair and sat demurely waiting at the breakfast table.

“Did you sleep well?” she said when he appeared. "Sweet dreams?"

“Yes," he said, hesitated, glanced at her, half smiled, inclined his head, raised his eyebrows, and then looked away. "I see you ordered breakfast.”

“Yes, is that okay? I thought it would be better than having to contend with crowds downstairs.” She hesitated, gave him a sheepish grin, “I wouldn’t want to run into our Texan.”

“Our Texan?”

“You bought him a drink, we're almost family,” she giggled. “It was naughty of me to tease him, but running into him again in the cold light of day... it’s not the same game is it?”

“On the subject of games?”

“Am I still Candice? What do you think?”

“I think so.”

“So?”

“I had an amazing dream last night.”

She looked away, trying to suppress a smile, helping herself to some stewed fruit as a distraction.

“What has that to do with Candice?”

“It’s complicated, I know this sounds ridiculous, but there was this woman and she had Candy’s lipstick. I don’t think it was a colour Candice would wear.”

“Ahh. So you’ve met this Candy?”

“She’s a mate of Marsha’s.”

“Do you expect to run into her again, I mean would you like that?”

“She can be very entertaining.”

“So you would like to see her again?”

“Now and then, yes, but I think I prefer your company.”

“After one date?”

“You have a presence, you fascinate me. One date was all it ever needed.”

“Andrew Andrews, are you telling me you've fallen for me on our first date?”

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

“So, about this game that you and Andy are playing, can I join in?” Marsha said.

“What did he tell you?”

“He said he was going on a blind date with his wife’s alter ego.”

“I thought I needed to grow up, be who I should have been before... well, you know.”

“Which one did I meet?”

Candy exploded with laughter. “I have no idea. Mostly Candy, I guess, at least at first. Now, I’m not so sure. By the time the baby gets here I think Candice will be full grown.”

“Candice? That’s your real name, right?”

“Yeah, always was. So do you want a blind date too?”

“Honey, I’m already fucking your husband, let’s not make it too complicated. I can’t be dating two of you and Andy as well.”

“Yeah, I know. It is only a game, well a bit more than a game, more like one of those role-play things they make you do on courses where you use that stuff to sort yourself out. It’s kind of fun too, and Andy is really good at it.”

“Meaning what?”

“He kept me in the game, really behaving as if we’d just met. It was freaky. Actually what was really brilliant was the way he gave me room to ad-lib and I knew I could stop, I could step out of the game anytime, and he wouldn’t be upset.”

“So you kept going.”

“Yeah, and I learned a lot.”

“So did Candy die in the crash?”

“Oh no, not at all, but she has changed.”

“Will I notice?”

“Mmmm, maybe. Not as much as Andy.”

“I expect he’ll cope.”

“Oh sure.”

“So if it’s not too awkward a question, who am I talking to now?”

Marsha, watched her friends face stop in mid-smile, crumple a little and finally break out in a mischievous grin.

“It could be awkward I suppose. Right now, I think you’re talking to the woman who was in the hospital. I guess that was Candy, but a hurt, subdued Candy, a bit like Mrs Andrews when she was at work.”

“Being a good girl and playing by the rules?”

“Mmmm.”

“So I can carry on as if nothing is happening?”

“Exactly. Carry on fucking my husband and getting pregnant — perfectly normal happy family stuff. Have you started testing yet?”

“Next week. Are you still OK with this?”

“More than okay. I was hoping we could have a big party — except you won’t be able to drink.”

“Will you be ready?”

“I could show off now, but one more week won’t hurt.”

“So you plan some kind of orgy?”

Candy said nothing for a minute. “I’m not sure,” she said. “Would it be crazy to ask Mistress if she could lay something on? I’m tempted but I don’t want to upset Andy. I know he’ll say yes, and one of these days I want to have him there when I’m being Candy, but I’m not sure.”

“Can you unpack that? What are you not sure about?”

“I’m not sure. Okay, that sounds daft, but haven’t you ever felt worried without being able to put your finger on some specific reason?” Candy stopped for a moment. “It doesn’t matter, I’m going to write scripts for Candy, I think that will help.”

“But if you write the script where is all that out-of-control excitement?”

“I’m not sure I was ever really out of control—”

“Until you were on the ventilator.”

“Okay, yeah. What I mean, speaking as if it was a drama script, I always had the main events blocked out, the out-of-control elements were inside that.”

“So I'm trying to picture this," Marsha said. "If scene one blow-jobs, so you audition a bunch of cocks, find some way to shrug-off the ones you don’t like and then go for it.”

“Mmmm, that let me audition them—”

“For the next scene?”

“Exactly. I’d pick the best cocks, the ones who looked like they had staying power and if I felt up for it I could let them loose. By then I had enough of an idea what I might be in for. Doing a blow job on a guy is quite a good way to find out if you can trust them not to be a maniac.”

“Uh, huh,” Marsha said, the words elongating and rising as she said it.

“What did that mean?”

“I was trying to imagine the research paper... So how important would it be that you write the script?”

“Who else would?”

“Anyone. Actually anyone who could put a few sentences together. That could rule out a few of the guys you’ve fucked in the past. We could organise a competition and the winner gets to play the scene... with you.”

“Oh, sure. Andy suggested something similar. I get it. I c-o-u-l-d do that, I definitely could do that. I don’t know if I would.”

“Or should?”

“That’s up to Andy. It’s not just me, Andy has to be part of whatever I do. Andy has to decide about the 'should' part.”

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

The next week the house was full of suspense. There was no need for Andy to ask what was on the two girls minds, his best move was to make space, keep out of the way and wait for developments.

Andy knew Marsha had called during the day, in midweek and had a long talk with Candy, or maybe she was talking to Candice, or some kind of hybrid. He spent several days, at work catching up on things. He scheduled a bunch of meetings with key people to plan ahead and unpack what they had learned while he was standing back from day-to-day activities. It was all very well letting the business run itself while Candy was at death’s door, but that could only go on so long, if only to stop his colleagues calling him to ask how she was. What they needed to see was a dose of normality, and as far as work was concerned that meant Andy being in the building and looking relaxed.

When he came home after work Dinner was always on the table.

“Are you tracking me?”

“What?”

“Dinner is always ready as I walk in the door.”

“Oh that. Yeah, it’s simple. Your secretary phones me when you leave, I check the traffic reports and keep an eye on where your phone is.”

“You never did that before.”

“I know. We were stupid. I should have let you track me. I was, well, I don’t know what I was. There was no reason to keep where I was a secret. I had this half-baked notion that if you didn’t know, then it hyped up the tension, so you’d be even more pleased to see me when I got back.”

“But you phoned at midnight.”

“Yeah. I told you I was dumb.” She blew him a kiss across the dinner table. “I’ve learned a lot from you... and from what happened. I’ll stop doing dinner if you like.”

“Don’t do that, I’m enjoying normal. Do you track Marsha too?”

“No, I don’t.”

“When she gets pregnant, I think we should all track each other. We’ll be a family, won’t we? We need to look out for each other.”

Candy blew him another kiss.

“About the family thing?”

Andy stopped eating and waited, something was on her mind.

“We’re going to have a child, right?”

“Let’s hope so.”

“So the thing is, what am I going to tell my mum?”

“Is she coming to visit?”

“You read me like a book don’t you.”

“When?”

“I tried to put her off for a few weeks, I said she could come when my foot was up to driving.”

“Good move.” Andy grinned, managing the information flow to Candy's Mum in Scotland had often been a long-running conspiracy between the two of them.

“What did you tell her about the crash while I was out of it?”

“Not a lot really love. I said you were on your way back from a night out. I kind of implied it was a work do.”

Candy nodded. “When she came to see me in the hospital, we didn’t get to talk much because I was out of it most of the time. Did she grill you a lot?”

“A little. I said I only knew one person at the event and I’d never met the guy who died. I concentrated on being worried about you.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured. Now I'm home she keeps calling, mostly when she thinks you aren't around. I keep telling her I still can’t remember anything after about nine that night.”

“All true.”

“I know love, but when we have the baby, she’ll have to know where it’s come from. We can’t say we don’t know. We’ll have to tell her about Marsha and everything.”

“What about Marsha’s folk?”

Candy laughed. “Oh right, God, that could be worse. What will they think if Marsha’s having your baby? Will they expect you to marry Marsha?”

“I’m married to you.”

“They might expect me to divorce you.”

Andy couldn’t stop himself chuckling. “You mean you divorce me on the grounds of my adultery with Marsha?”

“I know that’s ridiculous, but it’s what they might think. Don’t worry, I couldn’t bring myself to do that. We have to find some kind of story that Marsha’s happy with because her folks are bound to worry about her.”

Andy nodded. “They’ll worry about the baby too, growing up in a den of sin and all that.”

“Should we have talked it through more?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Andy caught a hint of surprise on Candy’s face. “I know,” he said. “That’s not like me to say that, but seriously do you think we’d have come to a different conclusion if we’d talked about it for a month or a year? I don’t think so. The issue isn’t about us, it’s about what we say to the world.”

“Which is?”

“I’m inclined to tell the truth.” He stopped for a second, “but I’m not the one with living parents.”

“You mean we say that polyamory is the new thing?

Andy shrugged, grinned, held his arms up in a ‘why not?’ gesture.

Candy sat for a moment, puzzled, looking at him for a few seconds. “It might work.”

“Well, it is mostly true. There is a slight problem if she asks us to list anyone else we know that’s into it, but there is plenty of stuff on the internet.”

“You know what she’ll say?”

Andy lay back in the chair, suppressing a giggle. “I have absolutely no idea,” he said.

“She’ll say she’s surprised my dad wasn’t into it, and you know where that could lead.”

“No,” Andy said. “I’ll do most things for you but screwing your mum is out.”

“She’s still in good shape.”

“No... and don’t give me one of those pleading looks. You can write a script for one of your movies with some stud that fucks both of you, but not me, definitely not me.”

Candy got up, sashayed over to him, bent down to where he sat and kissed him."

“I’m glad we’ve got that cleared up.”

“That’s becoming a stock phrase of yours.”

She kissed him again. “I know. The thing is, if she did play like that, you’d have to cane both of us, but you could do that couldn’t you.”

“Could or should?”

Candy laughed. “When I was talking to Marsha about my scripts, we talked about could, would and should. I said ‘should’ has to be your job."

"Is she definitely coming?"

"Honestly, love, I don't know. You know what she's like, if the idea gets into her head, she could turn up out of the blue, but if she's busy, she might not think about us for a month."

"Apart from when she turned up while you were in the hospital, she must have been busy."

"She has this PR business, I suppose it comes and goes. I think it filled a gap after Dad died."

"Okay love, I get the picture. Let's wait for Marsha, once we know there's a baby on the way, I'll figure out what to do."