I really can’t remember how we travelled from Marylebone to Bexleyheath …it would have been the late 1950’s and who had a car then? …but, arri...e we would, at a gorgeous little Art Deco bungalow nestled into the top of a hill. Quaintly Edwardian, it sported stucco rendering and toothed red-brick surrounds with brick arches to the doors and windows. Baby peg clay tiles on the bonnet-hipped roof, with tiny dormers squatted halfway up its slope. Stunning coloured glass panels were set above the. Damon watched her all the while. She was a sensational dancer. He tried desperately not to think of her turning his attention to Cynthia, realizing she might be the one responsible for his brother’s suffering. But she stood no chance before Catherine. As much as he wished it wasn’t true, she was probably the one who destroyed Johnny. She was beautiful, sexy, flirtatious, and witty. She was simply amazing. Johnny would have to be blind not to fall for her… He noticed the brooch Cynthia was. She gave us a brief smile as her eyes swept over our little group. I was in the process of picking up my coat from the chair beside me when she stopped short and sat down next to Wes instead.I stupidly held the coat in the air as she settled, before making a show of looking for something in one of its pockets. The only one that could have seen my face-saving act was Kendall, and she was making monosyllabic greetings to the rest of the group instead. To me she gave a curt nod.Just before the. I opened the lid and rummaged around until I’d found what I was looking for – there they were! I pulled a few lengths of nylon cord from the box, put the lid back on and slid it under the bed. His smile was wonderful when he saw what I had in my hands and he raised his arms up, wrists bared ready for tying up. I pulled his shirt up over his head and relished in his bare chest – smooth and tanned, I grabbed his right wrist and tied it tightly to the bed, then the left. I stood up and looked down.