Alex Turner, amongst his many other faults and vices, was abit of a culinary snob. Dinners at Attica, or Rockpool or anywhereelse the A listers fancie.... Personally I much preferred the rusticcoziness this restaurant offered, and the food was nice. I evenchanced some sparkling. Not exactly 'hair of the dog' stuffconsidering I'd started the day with a hangover, but that was adistant memory.I guess the advantage of being an alcohol light weight was that I wasquick with the bounce back.Like in. Why hadn’t I realised this a long time ago? How long had he been watching me? I didn’t need to ask what he’d seen, I knew the answer to that one. I reddened my inevitable blush of embarrassment.But as I thought about who on earth it could be I began to realise that as the wash of embarrassment subsided a new feeling crept over me. This was like having your cake and not getting fat. My determined feelings towards keeping boys at arm’s length could, perhaps, be manipulated. Trailing my fingers. We opened five years ago after a long struggle with the local council planning department, battling with objections from local church groups and the like. But we got off the ground in the end. At first I stayed in the background leaving Sally and Malcolm to run things. They were not just very good friends that I trusted but Sally was also my submissive slave and I cuckolded Malcolm on a regular basis. I was more than happy to stand back and be a silent partner but when rates and lease costs. Her daughter, Anita, taller than her mother, was stunning and had a brilliant brain. She was finishing a University course in Astrophysics or something. Frank, her son, was not so academically gifted, but was making his way as a golf professional, a good one as well.Fran was a bubbly natural blonde, with a sound head on her shoulders. When Tim, her late husband, had contracted cancer, she had been a pillar of strength. I had never seen her resolve waver, even though Pam had once told me that.