"The doors not locked," I said flatly, trying to disguise the edge to my emotions. Feeling angry yes ... but not so much at her, or at Jack for that m...tter. But angry at myself. For not seeing it, not knowing, not being aware. But even more so, because I'd been harboring the same thoughts for quite some time now. Enjoying the decadence of my own wicked imagination, late at night in the privacy of my own bedroom. And worse. And though I afforded myself the luxury of never having acted on those. "You are wrong about one thing," Vicki said breaking the silence.Turning to face his mother, David asked, "What?"Vicki said, "That bit about not doing wrath because you take after your father." You don't know me well enough to say that," David said."The last conversation I had with your father tells me otherwise. Boy ... did he ever unleash his wrath at me," Vicki said."He did?" David asked.He would have been less surprised to learn that his father had grown a tail. The idea of his father being. If there are any problems, I will be in a shell gas uniform and will pretend I'm working there and will handle it." Are you sure you really want to do this?" I asked.She said, "YES, YES, YES! Can we do it today, Daddy?" she asked."No, not today. This is going to require me to do some thinking and research," I answered. "Maybe this weekend. Leave Saturday morning open. I have an idea." Okaaaay, Daddy. I know you'll find the best places," she said, only slightly disappointed."I want to make sure. It gave me plenty of views of her knees for fucks sake, but I knew that’s all I would get, she’s nailed the careful knees together routine, therefore no wardrobe malfunctions as they call it. I had negotiated access to a recording studio in London, which was secure and very private, equipped with toilets, piano and furniture together from a lot of wiring and a sound studio with very technical looking desks and stuff. We met there, straight after she had played golf which was her passion,.