This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
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This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don't read it.
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Family re-united and into action.
Rob got the tube home, deciding to drop in on Letty. He got off the tube and was half way to her house when he remembered she was in college. He was on the point of turning round when he glanced at a white Ford Transit van driving slowly up the road. He got a view of the driver who wasn't looking at him. It was Howard Markham.
His blood ran slightly cold, for the man was staring directly at her house, so Rob knew that he was not there for his health.
In all the excitement of the role, the socialising and the new jobs, they'd forgotten about Mr Markham, and that had obviously been a mistake. He returned to the relative safety of the tube station and called Letty on her mobile. She didn't answer. He called her home. The butler answered.
“James, it's Katie Marriott, what time is Letty due home?”
“Being Wednesday, half past four, probably.”
“Thanks, can you tell her I called. I won't be able to go shopping with her on Saturday, I have to go to Paris with my Boss.”
“I'm sure that'll be very hard for you, Miss.”
“James, your sarcasm is still quite obvious, you know?”
James chuckled. He and ‘Katie' had built up a rapport and there was a good deal of mutual respect between them.
“Thank you, Miss, I like to be appreciated.”
Rob hung up, still chuckling. Then he made his way home. He dashed in and went straight up to his room. He heard Theresa calling him, so, returning onto the landing, he looked down.
He stared straight into his father's eyes.
“Dad, fuck me, what a surprise!”
“I see your language hasn't improved, young man. Come down and say hello nicely.”
He returned downstairs, and his father watched as the elegant young woman walked towards him. Casting inhibitions aside, the two embraced.
Robert had spent the last two hours talking with his old friend and one time lover, Theresa. He was aware of the gender confusions that Rob and Pru faced, Rob in particular, and he felt responsible and a fair amount of guilt.
They went into the sitting room.
“I need to explain to you why this is necessary,” he said to Rob.
An hour later, Rob sat there shaking his head.
“So, we're on the last leg now?” he asked his father.
“Yes, I hope so, at any rate.”
“Good, because I really need to make up my mind about who I am.”
“I understand that, and will respect whatever decision you make. I'd obviously prefer it if you should choose to remain male, but I can see that you may have gone beyond the point of no return. Rob, I have no right to force you to do anything, and, although these deceptions were my way of protecting you, I feel I have done enough harm.”
He gazed at his son, who looked such a vision of feminine loveliness that he now regretted some of his decisions.
“Dad, we went along with this because it was fun. I've had a ball, and I know Pru has. But, we've had enough, and want to live for ourselves for a change. I need to know who and what I really am, and I need time and space to do that. I don't have much of either, as I have to go to Paris the day after tomorrow with your cousin Mike Hatton, and the girl I think I'm in love with is under threat from a blackmailer.”
“Tell me about this girl,” his father said, and so Rob did.
“Go to her. Sir Charles Greyson, you say?”
“That's right, do you know him?”
“I might. Go my boy; she needs you. My car is outside, take it.”
Rob returned to his room, stripping away Katie and became Rob once more. Dressing in black SWAT style combat trousers and jacket, with a pair of Magnum boots, he looked more like an SAS soldier than anything else. He put a black balaclava into his pocket along with his mobile phone.
He ran downstairs and out into the street, where he looked for a car the keys his father gave him would fit.
A black Audi TT sat in a parking bay, and when he pressed the remote, the door locks opened and indicators flashed briefly. He grinned, typically father, he always did things in style.
It took him minutes to get to Letty's house. The white van was nowhere to be seen, so he drove to the college. He had about fifteen minutes before she was due to come out of class.
He managed to reach the college, and to his dismay he saw the van already leaving, making off at some speed in the opposite direction. It passed him, and he saw Markham's face pale behind the wheel. He was looking grimly determined, and as he passed, Rob saw his lips move, as if he was saying or shouting something to someone in the rear of the vehicle.
Rob spun the car round, and followed. He pressed the hot key on his phone and got Pru.
“Pru, Letty's been kidnapped by that sod Markham.”
“I saw Markham driving past Letty's house in a van, but Dad was at home and I couldn't get out fast enough. I managed to get to the college, but it seems that Markham has already snatched her. In case I'm wrong, can you ring the college and see if she's still there. I'm approaching the Aldwych, he'd heading to the City and the East End.”
“Do you want me to call the police?”
“And say what? No. Not yet anyway. Remember the letter? I think he's using that as a lever, so she would tell the police nothing is wrong, as she is afraid her father may face prison for whatever is in the letter.”
“Oh. You said Dad is at home, is he still there?”
“Yes. Or he was when I left. I have his car, so I think he'll still be there.”
“How is he?”
“Pru, he's fine, but let's talk about him later, okay?”
“Sorry, I'll ring the college and then him. If she's okay, I'll call you back. If you don't hear from me, then it must be her in the van.”
Rob put the phone down. He just realised that any driving licence he had was in the name of Katie Marriott. He was uninsured, unlicensed and using a mobile phone. The last thing he needed was to be stopped by the police.
Howard Markham was not a happy man. He wasn't exactly regretting his decision to snatch Letty from outside the college, but he couldn't face much more of her screaming.
He'd parked the van round the corner, and waited for her by the main entrance. When she'd appeared, he had approached and simply opened the conversation.
“Letty, I'm here to apologise to you for what I did a few weeks ago. I also want to show my good faith by giving you the letter, so you can destroy it or do what the hell you want with it.”
She had stared at him, her books clutched across her stomach.
“All right, give it to me,” she said, not trusting him at all.
“It's in the car.”
“Get it. I'll wait here.”
“Okay, you can come with me, it'll be quicker that way. I won't bite, you know.”
Reluctantly, she followed, and on arriving at the van, she started to frown.
“You said it was a car.”
“Car, van who cares. Let me get it for you.”
He opened the van and taken a plain piece of paper from the seat.
He opened the passenger door from the inside.
“Here, get in, take a look if you don't believe me.”
She got in and took the paper. Only when she registered that it was plain did she feel fearful.
“What's going on? I told you, I won't marry you!”
“I realise that. So, I just thought I'd sell the paper to the highest bidder, or else daddy can pay what it's worth.”
“Not the way I'm doing it. You see, your father is receiving a message that you've been kidnapped. If the police get told, then he thinks the kidnapper will kill you.”
“You mean you will?”
“No, you've got me all wrong. I'm going to be the one that rescues you, and gets the reward. Any whispers about the truth, and then I'll use the letter, do you understand?”
Letty did. She was very angry and also afraid.
“You bastard, let me go!” she screamed at him.
He slapped her hard, and she fell silent.
“Now get in the back and shut the fuck up!” he commanded.
He had to ‘help' her into the back, securing her arms with some rope he'd attached to the inside wall bulkhead of the van.
“Now shut up and this will all go smoothly. I don't want to have to start mutilating you, but if you don't keep quiet, an ear here or a finger there might have to happen.”
“You wouldn't dare!”
“Try me, bitch!”
Howard returned to the front and started to drive off, just as a black Audi TT came down the road.
Sir Charles received a letter by private courier.
WE HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER…WE WANT £1,000,000 IN USED NOTES…NO POLICE…IF YOU CALL POLICE, SHE DIES… PAINFULLY.
YOU WILL BE CONTACTED AGAIN IN A COUPLE OF HOURS. IF YOU DON'T HAVE THE MONEY, SHE LOSES A LIMB.
He started to shake. All his fears were realised, and he felt afraid for his precious daughter.
“Sir, a Gentleman has called. He wouldn't give his name, but says it's about Letitia.”
“Put him through, James.”
The phone rang and Sir Charles picked it up after the first ring.
“Greyson,” he snapped.
“Ah, splendid. I didn't give my name to your man, but it's Tremaine, Robert Tremaine, we met some time ago, but you probably don't recall.”
Sir Charles was confused.
“I'm sorry, I thought this was about my daughter.”
“It is, dear chap, and I am the bearer of good news. It seems the villain of this piece is one Howard Markham, whom I believe you may know.”
“My God, he's kidnapped Letty?”
“It appears so. You see, he is at this moment driving her eastwards through the City of London. I don't know the details, as my, ah, my source was not really certain either. The fortunate circumstances that I can divulge, is that I have a trusted operative following Markham, and he will endeavour to free her at the first opportunity. I see no reason to involve the police at this time. Has he been in touch yet?”
“I have a note. He wants a million.”
“What a nasty fellow. He must know that kidnappings seldom work. I wonder what his real game is!”
“How did you come to have your man near my daughter?”
“Pure chance, old boy. My, ah, operative, happened to recognise Markham, and as it was outside your daughter's college, put two and two together.”
“He must be very efficient.”
“My dear chap, he is without doubt the best.”
“So what happens now?”
“Nothing. If you hear from him, then go along with him as if you are going to pay him, and pretend you don't know who he is.”
“How will I know what's going on?”
“I shall send another operative over to your house to keep in constant touch with both me and the man on the ground.”
“Robert Tremaine, you said?”
“Not the one who had to leave the country some time ago?”
“The same, but I'm back, and I am no longer a fugitive from the law. On the contrary, I am now working with the authorities on several matters of mutual interest. But this is irrelevant, I have to go and I will send someone over.”
Sir Charles was holding a dead phone. He replaced the receiver.
Pru arrived home, having established that Letty wasn't at college, and spoke to her father, alerting him to what had happened. Robert was waiting for her.
After giving her a hug, he brought her up to speed on his plans. Then with what had transpired between he and Sir Charles.
“You must go over to his house and take control,” Robert said.
“I can't, daddy, he knows me.”
“No, he knows Peter Marriott. He doesn't know Prudence Tremaine.”
Pru had never used her own first name in all the years she'd followed her father around the world.
“Am I to believe that that's my real name?”
“So, us working for Tremaine Industries is no coincidence?”
“I won't ask. So, I can be Prudence, from now on?”
“No, just for a short while. I need to reassure Sir Charles that we Tremaines are trustworthy.”
Pru went upstairs, shaking her head.
She gratefully stripped away her binding from her chest, luxuriating in feeling free again. Then she changed into a smart skirt and jacket, with stockings and heels. She looked the efficient young female executive, and her short hair, with some gel and imagination looked very chic when she had finished doing her makeup.
James opened the door after the bell sounded.
A tall and attractive young woman holding a large briefcase stood there. She was faintly familiar.
“Hello, I'm Prudence Tremaine. I'm expected.”
“Come in Miss Tremaine, Sir Charles is in his study.”
Pru followed the butler across the hall; smiling as it was her heels that echoed on the floor this time, instead of her brothers.
“Sir Charles, a Miss Tremaine to see you.”
Sir Charles looked at the tall girl. She exuded confidence, power and efficiency. She was very attractive, not pretty, as she was too substantial to be pretty. Even though she wasn't in any way fat, she was just a big girl who had a lovely smile. He too felt that there was something vaguely familiar about her, but Sir Charles couldn't put his finger on it.
“Hello, Sir Charles, my father has explained the situation. Our operative is in touch with me by phone, so we know exactly where they are. Has anyone contacted you yet?”
“No, but if he's alone, he won't, will he? Not for a bit anyway.”
“If he has a mobile phone, he might. The chances are he'll use a pay phone. I need you to portray the frightened father, and just go along with him. If he leaves Letty for any length of time, then our chap will go in and get her out. We just wait.”
“You've done this sort of thing before?”
“Loads of times,” she lied and smiled reassuringly at him. She took out the tape recorder and attached it to the telephone.
“It must be an exciting life, being in the security industry?”
She looked at him.
“Yes, it is sometimes. Most of the time it's like any other job,” she said.
The butler appeared with a pot of tea and two cups.
“I thought you and the young lady could do with some tea, sir.”
“Good man, James. Thanks.”
They'd just started sipping the tea when the phone rang.
Rob watched as the van reversed into the lockup under the railway arches in Leytonstone. Markham appeared, locking the substantial doors before walking briskly down the road.
Rob guessed there was a pay phone not far away, so he had a few minutes to try to get Letty out.
He approached the lockup cautiously, as he wasn't certain that Markham wasn't alone. Although the large wooden doors were substantial and in good order, the weakest point was the lock. It was a single Yale padlock, looking small and puny attached to the large metal bracket. Rob smiled, taking out a small leather wallet from one of his numerous pouches. Selecting a slim fillet of metal, with a few jiggles, the lock clicked open. He moved quietly inside, closing the door, and pulling the balaclava over his head as he did so.
The lockup was quite small, with only enough room to park six cars - two abreast and three deep. There was an old shell of what had once been a Ford Granada and the white van. The van was unlocked, so he opened the rear doors.
Letty was lying on the floor of the van, her hands tied firmly to the van itself. She'd tried everything to undo them, but had tightened the knots in the process. There was a blindfold over her eyes and a length of duct tape over her mouth, sealing off her screams. She was feeling about as miserable as she could, and vague thoughts of her unknown admirer flitted in and out of her brain.
“How could I be so stupid?” she asked herself. “These things don't happen today. I….” Then she heard the doors open. He hadn't been long, the bastard.
It wasn't Markham, for he spoke, and Letty experienced a strange thrill.
“Letty, I'm going to take off the blindfold and gag. Don't scream or do anything silly. Everything is all right now,” the voice said.
She'd recognise that voice anywhere. It was her unknown. Admirer!
The duct tape came off first, and she felt two lips press against hers for a brief moment. Then the blindfold came off, and she blinked as even the dim light startled her for a moment.
Her admirer was working on the ropes tying her hands. He was dressed from head to foot in black, looking like a secret agent. He had a balaclava over his head, his two eyes twinkling at her through the holes.
Soon she was free and rubbing the feeling back into her hands and wrists. They hurt, so he took her hands and gently massaged them.
“Come on, let's get you out of here. He won't be long.”
As they headed towards the doors, they started to open.
Markham was pleased. Old man Greyson was as pliable as anything, and claimed to have the money ready. But Howard was no fool. He knew that a kidnapper with a million pounds had a limited selection of countries in which to reside. However, as a gallant hero, who had rescued the unfortunate girl from a fate worse than death, only notoriety and wealth would fellow. He could live in this country, and may even be invited to go on Big Brother.
He should have this wrapped up within a couple of days, return the girl to her family, and reap the rewards. He was whistling as he approached the doors. He stopped as soon as he noticed that the padlock was missing.
He felt that icy finger of fear, similar to that he experienced when the police arrived at his hotel room at Heathrow.
“Not this time,” he said, pulling the gun from his pocket. It was an elderly Smith and Wesson .38. His father had acquired it quite illegally many years ago, for personal protection. When all handguns were made illegal in Britain, the gun was lying forgotten in the attic. Howard only discovered it quite recently while looking for anything of value to sell.
Never having had any training or practice with the weapon, he made all the classic mistakes that one sees actors doing when portraying supposed firearms specialists and professionals. The first mistake is to walk into an enclosed space without checking as much as you can first from the doorway. Quick glances, from different places around the door, to see whether your enemy is visible, armed and where they are.
The second is not pointing the gun where you are looking. The gun was actually pointing at the floor as he walked in looking all around him. He noted the rear doors of the van were open, so made another mistake in assuming the girl had got out somehow. His next mistake was not checking the van.
Letty was hiding behind a workbench. He saw her and pointed the gun at her.
“Out you come, you silly cow!”
He walked past the open back door of the van, and never saw the wrench as it hit his right wrist.
He dropped the gun, and swung to face this new threat. A shadow in black launched himself at him, raining blow after blow at him, driving him back against the hulk of the Ford behind. Howard was a big man, and had boxed quite effectively in his youth. He managed to connect a left hook on the smaller man in black, knocking him to the ground. He looked for the gun, seeing it at the back of the van. Letty also saw it and got to it first.
She picked it up with trembling hands, pointing it at them both. The other man stood up.
“Take the gun and get out, Letty, run!” he said.
“I can't leave you,” she said.
“Just go, I'll be fine.”
Howard roared in anger and rushed at the man in black. Somehow, the man wasn't where he had been standing, but he managed to grab Howard's right arm, and swing him into the rear door of the van.
Stunned and in pain, Howard turned to face the man.
“You little shit! Why can't people mind their own fucking business?”
“Ah, Mr Markham, this is my business, for you have seriously wronged the woman I love and intend to marry.”
The voice was strangely calm and almost familiar. Letty felt that she knew the voice, but couldn't work out to whom it belonged.
Howard picked up a length of steel pipe.
“Come on you little runt, come and fucking take me, if you're so fucking brave.”
The man adopted a martial art stance, and waved him on with both hands. Howard approached cautiously, keeping half an eye on the girl. At the last moment, he lunged to the left, grabbing the girl and the gun. Seizing the gun from her, he turned it on the man and pulled the trigger.
The man wasn't there.
He started to pull Letty towards him, while trying to point the gun at the man. The foot came out of nowhere, connecting to his hand, sending the gun spinning over the old wreck, to land with a thud somewhere at the very back of the lockup.
A fist followed, and Howard went down. He started to get up when another fist to the side of his head made all the lights go out. He slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Rob stood over him, ready to punch him again. He allowed his breathing to return to normal, smiling gently. His time in the Far East had not been wasted, as a black belt in Karate, he had never really had to use it in anger before.
Letty was at his side, trying to hand him the gun, which she had retrieved.
“That was wonderful,” she gushed.
Taking the gun from her, he opened it, looking at the five live rounds and one spent cartridge in the cylinder. Then taking out his phone, he spoke briefly.
“It's done. All safe, Markham is unconscious, call the police. The sod had a gun. One shot fired, so the police may well be on way already. I'll wait for them to almost get here, then I'll bugger off. The story we agreed, okay?”
Then he turned and took Letty in his arms.
Pru ended her call on the mobile, picking up Sir Charles Greyson's phone.
“Your daughter is safe and well, and our man has rendered Markham unconscious. Please dial 999, and ask for the police. Tell them that your daughter has contacted you, she managed to escape from her kidnapper, and an unknown member of the public, hearing her cries, helped by knocking out the man responsible. This is where she is,” she said, passing over a piece of paper.
“I can't believe your man doesn't want to make himself known.”
“Let's say he has an advantage in anonymity.”
“Oh, I understand.”
Sir Charles dialled 999.
Rob tied up Markham tightly. Letty sat on the back of the open van watching her unknown hero as he checked through Markham's pockets. Taking out a sheet of paper, he looked at it and smiled.
He tucked it away in one of his pockets.
“Is that the bloody letter?” she asked.
“Shouldn't I have it?”
“When the police get here, they may find it and ask all manner of questions. It'll be best that you say nothing about it. It will give me an opportunity to meet your father when I can ask for your hand in marriage.”
Letty grinned from ear to ear.
“Don't I get a say in this?” she asked.
“Letty, at the moment, I am nobody. Soon, I hope to be someone. Then, and only then will I come and take you away. You will come, won't you?”
“I'll come with you now, if you but ask!”
“No. There are still matters to complete. The time will come. I promise.”
The wail of sirens could be heard, so he rolled up his balaclava past his lips, so he could kiss her.
“Remember, a stranger came to your help and had the fight with Markham. He tied him up and left.”
“Well, it's the truth.”
He smiled. His mouth was strangely familiar too. Oh, it was so frustrating.
“I do know you, don't I?” she said.
“Letty, I can't lie to you. You do.”
“Oh, tell me who you are, please.”
“I will, when the time is right, and then I'll propose. I hope you can forgive me.”
Then he was gone.
The police were sceptical at first, but when she showed them the gun, and pointed out the bullet hole in the wall, they took her seriously. Howard came round, struggled a bit, and then gave up. He started to sob.
A lady detective called Beverly took Letty to the police station. She spent nearly two hours taking an incredibly detailed statement from her. Letty stuck to the true story, omitting only the letter and that Markham was planning to stage a rescue.
Letty went into great detail about the unknown helper.
“He was about five ten, very chunky, like a body builder, and had very short cropped hair. He had a tattoo on his right hand, on the back, it looked like a dragon or something. He sounded like a cockney. He was wearing jeans and a white England football shirt.”
At the same time, another detective phoned Sir Charles Greyson, and asked him to attend Leytonstone Police Station, and to bring the note. Prudence had left just prior to the police calling, giving Sir Charles a briefing as to what to say. She returned to Elm Park Gardens, and told her father the good news.
As soon as Sir Charles arrived at the police station, he was taken to an interview room to be reunited with his daughter.
Letty looked remarkably calm and very pleased to see him.
“Oh Daddy, this time it wasn't my fault!” she said as she hugged him.
“No, I know it wasn't my little love. I know.”
The officers took the note from him, sealing it in a forensic bag. Another detective took a statement from him. It was some time before they got home.
Meanwhile, back In Elm Park Gardens, Robert was relaxing with his daughter. The phone rang. Theresa answered it. It was Letty wanting to speak to Katie.
“I'm sorry Letty, Katie's is still at work, but she'll be back soon. Can I ask her to ring you?”
“I'll do that, bye.”
“Splendid. A nice whisky is just what I need now.”
Rob arrived shortly afterwards. He walked in, looking very pleased with himself.
“The silly sod had a gun. He'll be going away for a long time now.”
“You're on the news,” Pru said, pointing at the television.
A reporter was standing outside a police cordon at the lockup.
“Dramatic events unfolded here this afternoon. The full facts are not yet clear, but it is understood that a man has been arrested here on suspicion of kidnapping Letitia Greyson, only daughter of industrialist and financier, Sir Charles Geryson. I spoke to Detective Inspector George Adams a few moments ago.”
The camera shot changed to the policeman.
“I can confirm that a young woman, was snatched from outside her college in Covent Garden at around four this afternoon. Tied up in the back of a Ford Transit, she was brought to this location. Tied up and gagged, she managed to chew through her gag and call for help. A passing member of the public, who has yet to come forward, came to her aid and gained access to the garage. After freeing her, they were confronted by the man, who is understood to have been armed with a handgun. A shot was heard by passers by, but they believed it to have been a car back firing. The men had a fight, and the kidnapper was over-powered. The girl contacted her father, and it was he who called the police. I can confirm that we have arrested one person in connection to this offence. We believe the man was acting alone, and that we are not seeking anyone else.
“The young woman has now returned to her family unharmed, except somewhat shocked by her ordeal. I would urge the young man who came to her aid to come forward. He has displayed remarkable courage and I can assure him that we only seek to take a statement from him.”
“I wonder what description she gave,” Pru said.
“Probably some six foot six black man. Oh, Dad, this is the letter the bastard was using as blackmail. Is it as nasty as he thought?” he said passing over the letter to his father.
Robert put on his spectacles and read the letter.
“Hmm, possibly. On face value, it seems innocuous enough, but there is a hint of slight irregularities. If it were I, I'd be slightly embarrassed but little more. Take it when you go and make yourself known to the family. But it won't be for a while yet. I'm afraid you will have to go back to being Katie for a little while longer.”
“I suspected as much; may we know for how long?”
“You're off to Paris with my cousin this weekend, so I think next weekend should see the beginning of the end.”
“Has he been really trying to track us to bump us off, for all these years?” Pru asked.
Robert scratched his head.
“I'm not sure. I do know that his men have tried to trace me, and succeeded a couple of times, that's why we moved so suddenly so often. Michael fears me, he fears the fact I may have evidence that will ruin him, and he fears that I will prevent him from achieving his ambition.”
“Which is?” asked Rob.
“Robin, I don't think he knows anymore. Initially, it was to oust me from my position and to take what wasn't his. He was jealous, pure and simple. His family and ours were linked for so many years, and always he saw his family as subservient to ours. It wasn't a matter of breeding, but one of ability. We were better at the job, but he is ruthless and quite fearless in business, which is why he has succeeded in such a competitive world. What he actually wants has been blurred, now I think it is to hang onto what he stole, and become as rich and influential as he can.”
“I never knew I was called Robin. I thought Rob was short for Robert.”
“You mother called you her little robin, just before she died. So I kept the name.”
“Rob, you'd better change, if I know Letty, she'll be over to see you as soon as she can,” Pru said.
“How about you? Has your big soldier been in touch recently?”
“No, he's probably busy down on the farm,” she said, quite brightly, but Rob knew she was missing him.
Rob went up stairs for a shower, shave and to recreate Katie again. As he sat at his dressing table, made up and looking every inch a desirable female, he tried to search his own eyes for his destiny. As soon as he became ‘Katie' all male identity fell away, and he felt her to his core. He actually felt very at home and happy as Katie, yet he knew that the trials and tribulations to be really Katie would be unpleasant and costly. How much did he want it, or was he just content being something he knew?
He was happy being Rob, but felt that he would miss the girly things he had come to love. Then he thought of Letty. She loved him as Rob, and as nice as it was being her best girlfriend, he wanted more. The male hidden beneath so many layers struggled to be heard, but managed it in a very base context, that of sex.
He finished affixing his false nails, when Pru, now as Peter, shouted that Letty had arrived. He smiled at Katie's reflection.
“Soon, my girl, you are going away for a very long holiday,” he told her.
‘Katie' went down to let Letty tell her all about her ordeal.