I hadn't heard her steps on the gravel of the path and I thought I knew all the regular visitors."Hello," she said, smiling. "You're usually earlier t...an this." Yes," I answered. "I don't think I've seen you before." No, you've always been focussed on your wife's grave." I suppose that's right. Er ... you visit someone, yourself?"She just nodded, serious. "I like what you've done there," she said, "it's different. Natural. Pretty. Not like that one..." she nodded at a grave next but one to. Boys and girls would be thronging round the pool laughing and talking, doing a lot jigging to what, these days, passes for music. I was looking forward to ogling the delicious nubile sights. My ex wife Sandy had decided that her daughter’s birthday party wasn’t that important to her, I knew she was golfing with her new bloke Montague, the president of the exclusive resort club, she belonged to and I didn’t ... didn’t because I am no way sporty and they’re a snotty bitch crowd of members ... she. “It’s not that much of a weekend though is it, I mean we arrive Saturday morning and leave Sunday, it only one night so to speak, just evening meal and Sunday breakfast!” Hazel said with sadness in her voice.Lynn looked in the envelope pulling out a brochure.“Hell, look at the evening meal though, it is medieval, wild boar, venison, duck. By the looks of things we’ll be kitted out with medieval attire to boot! Sort of fancy dress, look at the place inside?” Lynn smiled. “I believe we’re really. Some reporters and cameramen chanced to film and report on the merriment that took over an hour before the guys settled down. There was no sense in stripping or taking a shower until the champagne ran out or the guys were done celebrating. It was nearly midnight by the time I was able to get to the parking lot.The five ladies were waiting for me. Joe and his wife were there, and asked, "The big guys asked me to ask you and yours if you want to join us at the Savoy for a little celebration. Why.