"I smiled at him and started walking towards the house. "Well, if you want to talk, come on in. Something to drink?" I'd asked over my shoulder."Anyth...ng cold would be good, John."I pulled two glasses out of the cupboard and poured us both a glass of lemonade that Tracey had left in the fridge.I motioned to one of the chairs at the kitchen table and sat down across from him. "So what's on your mind, Tony?"Tony cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "John, you know Tracey and I have been. ’ At her gasp he went on, enraged. ‘You’ve been punishing me every day for what happened in the museum, and Christ, I told you I was sorry for that. And what do you do? Try and make me break my promise to you! I tell you I cant take much more of this, girl!’ He was facing the wall, shaking with fury and pent up sexual frustration, so when he heard her slight chuckle explode into fierce giggles he turned on her in bewilderment. ‘What in Christ’s name is so goddamn funny, girl?’ When she could. Then there was the reception and meal and my phone call to you on Saturday night.“After that call I decided that since I had a fortnight’s holiday for the honeymoon that wasn’t going to happen any more, I’d come over. I just couldn’t wait a week! (Barry went on our honeymoon holiday with a mate of his! – I told him to – silly to waste it).“I came back here on that Sunday as you will remember, I certainly do!” She grinned wanly at me. “Then I went back to York.“It was Monday morning when I went. Jim followed him, somewhat hesitantly. Mike rang the doorbell. There was a long pause before the door opened and a stunning woman appeared. Both of the guys stared. Cynthia Winters was dressed in a crème-colored suit, her high heels accentuating the length of her slender legs. She was taller than her daughter, at five-foot-seven. Unlike her daughter, she had golden blonde hair, not quite shoulder-length, and teased into thick, wavy curls. Her slender face seemed only slightly more aged than her.