I was saying sorry about a message I didn’t send.”She looked excited, bubbling, ready to tell him something. Whatever it was she wasn’t about to...say sorry. Something of his regret must have shown on his face before he could smile.“Are you okay?” she said.“You were going to say something — you looked like a kid with a bag of sweets when you came in.” He sat up, pushing himself back against the pillows and the headboard.“Something’s got you going.”“You were worried, that’s what the message was,. I am close to finishing it and, of course, I am semi hard when Mrs Tabbycat arrives and stands there in her ski pants and tee shirt smelling great and admiring the view. 'That's a good idea; are you doing it because we're going on holiday soon?' 'Of course' I lied, as I would never admit that I am always on the lookout for sexy mature ladies to fantasise over especially when on holiday where they lay on sunbeds in their swimsuits making me so randy I often have to go upstairs on some pretext to. She was made to stand before the Sergeant who was sitting behind his desk. The guards stood just inside the door, behind the prisoner."You are Margery Jennings. It is alleged that you said that our beloved Führer is a silly little man with a very silly moustache," accused her interrogator, "and then that you said that you would not sit down and eat with Nazis."Margery said nothing."So you do not deny it?" asked the Sergeant."I have nothing to say to you until my lawyer arrives," she. "Murmurs and muzzled hurrahs greeted the announcement. Suzy, the producer's assistant, scanned the set to make sure everyone had heard. She turned to Zach. "Hey, sweetie, have you seen Pat around?" Yeah, she's in her dressing roo..." Brad's answer was cut short by an elbow in his ribs from Jon."Dressing room, huh? I'd better go tell her," Suzy said. But before she could move, the producer came by and grabbed her by the arm. "We've gotta get moving, Suze," he insisted.Jon cut in. "Hey, we can.