“You want to have a go, Will?” he asked me, handing me his trowel. “You want to make sure the bricks are wet, so put some in the water bucket. O...herwise, they will suck all the moisture out of the mortar, and it won’t set properly, and be all crumbly.”I managed to get a row laid, taking maybe three times longer than he did, but at least they were level and plumb.“Not too bad, we’ll make a brickie out of you yet!”When we had finished a row, he used a small aluminium scraper to set the groove. The morning passed quickly. Once again, there was no time for lunch.On Thursdays I spent the afternoon in a University hospital in a nearby city, supervising PhD students and planning the clinical trials that my specialism frequently required. It would be an even better distraction than the morning’s work had been and I was looking forward to a change of scene.As I drove away from the hospital I saw my husband’s Porsche in the Consultants’ Car Park, low, sleek and green. A wave of emotion. . ?" She said breathlessly. "Who?" A pause. "You must have the wrong number, there's nobody here named Mario." She hung the receiver on the hook, disgusted."Let's watch the other tape." Betsy suggested, the sexual spell of the moment broken by the errant phone call. She plumped the pillows against the couch again before going to the VCR and inserting the tape she'd rented.She sat down with her back against the couch and patted the floor in front of her. "Why don't you sit here with me?". I had no doubt it was distracting."Sorry, Tina, just waiting on the call from Josh." Yeah, I know. If he can get you a job then it's a big deal. But you have to stop pacing or you won't live long enough to answer the phone."I laughed, "What are you going to do, little girl?" Fight dirty."She stalked towards me. We hadn't really played or roughhoused ever in our relationship so I had no idea what she was doing, until the tickling started. She was relentless and I couldn't force her away since I.