Well, here's the thing. You can sit round and drink yourself to death or you can take control and start again. I must say the first option appealed more to me for a day or two. Somehow I had achieved the unthinkable. I was alone and knew that there was no going back. A man like Terry Thorne takes a lot of shifting but when he makes his mind up - you won't change it. You could fix electrodes to his balls and send high voltage charges through him and he wouldn't back down. And you all know I'm right.

I tried to call. I mailed him. But he wouldn't pick up or reply. So I gave up humiliating myself and IM'd Bud. He was so good to me - but you know Bud. He wasn't interested in who was at fault or counselling me, which is probably why I turned to him rather than anyone else. He hears a woman cry, he looks for a guy to deck. Even Terry doesn't deserve that- he was no more at fault than I.

So, review your options. See Cort in two weeks - he's busy till then. Keep well away from Maximus- all I need is for him to screw up the last bit of sanity I've got. I can't lay it on Jack- he just wouldn't get it.  Jeff is away with his Dad. What then? I really don't want someone who doesn't really know me giving me the benefit of his opinion. Or maybe that is just what I need? Someone who doesn't know me. Giving me the benefit of his firm young body? The Temple. Sanctuary.

It's a bloody long way to California from where I live and the tedious journey gave me time to think. In my heart I knew that it was all my fault despite the things he had done to unsettle me. Most of all, I understood full well why Terry hadn't wanted to stay in the East. I had already realised that my days there were numbered.

Did I hear someone say "WHAT? Then why the fuck did you blow him away when he asked?" Calm down. There are ladies present. You all know why. He didn't say it right. Plus one or two other reasons, some of which I don't care to share with you all at the moment. This is my diary, not my confessional. Did you ever imagine I told you everything?

It was a warm sunny Spring afternoon when I turned my hired car into the grounds of the temple. I hadn't quite known what to expect really. I mean 'Temple' conjures up all sorts of images in my head. Doric columns, architraves, marble floors, towering statues; the gaudy excess of Buddhist and Hindu temples over here with incense burning, braziers flickering, dark inner sanctums and heady ritual  re-enacted.

Forget it. This is not what our Temple is about. The grounds are large and well maintained leading up to an imposing villa sprawled out on a hilltop overlooking the rolling beauty of the Sonoma valley .The site is split-levelled following the terracing of the hill but the main focus is a large swimming pool sunk on a cantilever, hanging over the valley and surrounded by the colonnaded elegance of the house itself. Flowers abound; the place is alive with blossoms and shrubs; it is a perfection that is almost hard to believe. Every room in the complex seems to have a different view over the vineyards down below.

The entrance hall was quiet and cool, a small fountain and marble pond in an atrium-like space. There was little by way of furniture but alcoves lit subtly contained statues of deities from many different religions and eras: African fertility goddesses, Hindu many- breasted mother figures, Early native art from aboriginal people and the more familiar features of classical art. It was classy and tasteful. I was impressed.

Somewhere in the distance I could hear the incongruous babble of a radio playing rock music (as far as I could tell). Other than that there was no sign of life. I took a seat on a teak elephant chair against the cool stone wall and checked my watch. Four thirty. I was early. I had been told that someone would be here at five. I would have to wait.

I closed my eyes and drifted slightly; it is a habit I keep indulging in these days. Conversations constantly play in my head where I somehow find the right words to say and he finds the correct responses. I am so spot on in my hindsight mind. I never make a mistake there.

"Hi." A vaguely familiar voice brought me back to earth. I snapped my eyes open and saw a young man, carrying a jacket over one shoulder. He was wearing cord jeans and a checked shirt, open at the neck and he was sweating slightly as if he had been doing some exercise. It was East - although it took me moments to realise it.

"Oh, hello," I replied and blushed. I always blush when I think of East. Must be the number of times I've paused the scene at the beginning of the film, I feel like quite a voyeur.

"You the new girl?" He smiled an open friendly grin of welcome. If I had been a new girl I would have felt no qualms about my new job straight away.

"Er..yes...the new girl," I replied, suddenly grasping at a straw. If they didn't even know who I was, so much the better! Then I wouldn't have to talk about it at all. 

"Want to me to show you around? My name's East Driscoll. I live here. Got a stable down the valley. Do you ride?"

I shook my head. "Not really. Not very well, anyway."

"Never mind, I can teach you if you like. Come down the stables anytime. I'll show you what's what."

A sudden image of East showing me what's what in the stables brought another red flush to my face. I'm sure he didn't mean anything by his words but they rang some bells for me, I can tell you.

I followed him through the building, across a hallway to a magnificent lounge down a few steps. One wall was entirely of glass and the room appeared to hang over the valley. In one corner was a giant plasma TV and a selection of DVDs that spanned the wall like a library; the only real furniture was a three sided leather suite and a low glass coffee table. There were magazines and books strewn about, a guitar lolling against the side of the couch, cigarettes and a pack of cards on the table. I picked up a magazine. Some girly ones and the others were either men's or men's interest- bikes, cars, sport...the usual boring crap that men read.

I smiled inwardly to imagine an evening here with this group of testosterone-charged young males. I'll bet they have had some wild times in this room with the Naiads. Wish someone would write a diary about that.

East led me through to a dining room, long mahogany table in a sort of minimalist version of baronial style. On through there was the kitchen, a modern hi-tech affair but with a kitchen table that looked as if it were the scene of most meals. It was cluttered with the remains of snacks- cereals and milk, packets of chips, biscuits, bottles of soda, cans of beer, fruit, remains of sandwiches. He shrugged: "The cook's day off. We sort of muck in ourselves. Pretty messy buggers, aren't we? You want a cup of tea?"

I nodded and he brewed up. No tea bag- real leaves and a strainer and all. Served in a china cup and saucer. Milk added first. Someone has taught him well. We cleared a space and drank and I let him fill me in on the 'job'.

"So, you know what this place is about?" he said.  I nodded.

He knitted his brows slightly. "You don't seem the usual type", he observed.

"Type?" I inquired.

"Ya know. They're a pretty vacant lot, no offence, but not much upstairs." He tapped his forehead. "Just plenty up top and scantily clad. I'm not complaining but, I like a woman with some spirit myself." And then he added, his eyes looking away over the valley below. "You look like you have spirit, ma'am."

He turned back and I caught the slight flaring of his nostrils as he said it and the way his tongue peeked out the corner of his mouth. I felt my blush returning. I stirred my tea and drank it down, trying to mask my reaction.

"You want to meet the girls or..."He didn't finish the thought.

"Let's go see the grounds?" I whispered, my voice all but deserting me. He nodded and opened the door to the back of the house.

"How does it work, Mr Driscoll? I mean...do you ask for a particular girl or is there a rota or... is it more like orgies?"

He snorted. "Where did you get that idea? Some of the guys play it a bit wild sometimes. But no, generally it's just one to one and private arrangements. Nothing planned. We're not sex fiends, you know," he added, a little concerned. He was so sweet. Sort of virile and macho but young and innocent all at the same time.

"What normally happens to new girls?" I asked tentatively as we strolled down a pathway that flanked a hillside meadow of spring flowers.

"Don't know. You're the first new girl. We've only been here a short while."

"Perhaps she needs initiating? Is there a temple rite of initiation?" I was hoping he would understand.

"Initiation? That like baptism? Sprinkling with water? Purification?"

"Yes, something like that. Any ideas?"

East observed me a moment and seemed to be thinking. "There's a bit of a stream down the meadow. You fancy cooling off?"

Oh Lord, was this ever the cure for a broken heart! East suggesting naked bathing? No horse, I'm afraid- what would we think of for him to ride?

He took my hand and we loped through the long meadow grass to a creek below. It was cool and clear. East yanked off his boots and socks, shrugged off his shirt and then went for his zipper. Suddenly he stopped and glanced up. "This OK with you? I'm easy about this kind of thing. Don't mean...you know...if you don't want to...it's not forced on you or anything..."

I grinned. "Nobody's forcing anyone. I applied for the job, didn't I?" I kicked off my sandals and unbuttoned my blouse. I saw him bite on his bottom lip and try to avert his eyes as he unzipped his pants and stepped out of them. East doesn't wear boxers. Oh my!

I fumbled with my own jeans, my hands trembling at the sight of him. He turned, waded in and dived down, rising to shake off the water. I slipped off my bra and panties and stepped in gingerly; it was cold, only spring. I momentarily checked out his groin- if that is East in cold water...need I say more?

As I shivered and whined about the temperature, he laughed and splashed me with water. I screamed. He splashed some more. "Don't!" I giggled.

He reached over and pushed me in; I surfaced with a gasp. "See, now you're in. That feels better. Let's swim over to the rocks."

I followed him as he launched smoothly out, watched his powerful shoulder muscles in an effortless crawl. I dived under and swam in his wake but the water was too murky with weed to afford me a good view of his naked rear and legs. By the time I joined him, he was leaning against the rocks and grinning at me. "You took your time...by the way, what's your name? You never said."

I hesitated. I didn't really want to lie but if I said Uma he would know; or I guessed he would know. I mean they must know who we are from the diaries, surely? "Just call me any name you like. I prefer to be incognito."

"Fine with me. I'll call you... and he picked up a little flower growing near the water's edge. "Daisy. I used to have a horse called Daisy. She was my first ride."

Our eyes met. "Will you be my first ride, East?" I said and I saw the muscles of his face tighten slightly. He blew air out gently.

"Let's dry off. Down there in the sun." East pointed to a hollow, a small dip which seemed to be a suntrap; it also offered a modicum of privacy. I took his hand and he lifted me onto the bank as he climbed up after me, his fingers lingering a little longer on my naked hips than they needed to.

I stole a glance and saw the interest that his state of undress could not deny; he saw my glance and smiled bashfully. "Let's lie down, Daisy, I reckon you're all wet."

Lying down on the soft grass, East rolled in next to me and took my face in his left hand. His mouth came down in a tender touch, nipping at my lips and murmuring some calming words to lull me. I sighed - he smelt of fresh air and leather, felt cool and wet from the creek, tasted sweet and hungry. Tension seemed to roll away from me as his strong young body climbed above me. He didn't try to enter me, just eased himself against me as he kissed me over and over until I was breathless.

We didn't speak- what was there to say? He knew nothing about me and although I knew something of him, I didn't know who he was now or what his life here had made of him. What was driving us? A warm sunny afternoon in a beautiful spot and the pleasure of each other's bodies. Is it enough? It seemed to be for a short while at least but then, all pleasure is transitory, life itself is fleeting. Take love where you can find it. It will be gone soon enough.

I loved him well; he did the same for me. I don't think East would ever do anything without a kind of earthy intensity. There is not an abusive bone in his body. He sees the world in simple terms- freedom, nature, independence and greets everyone who enters his field of vision with a charming smile and a welcome. But I felt that he shunned something deeper; he may no longer want to disturb his calm idyll with fiery passions. He had lived that nightmare once and it had turned sour and bitter on him. He must have retreated to the peaceful world of the Temple as if it were the sanctuary that his former life had once been, that shielded him from the cares of a hostile and unforgiving world. Our lovemaking contained the recognition that we both were hiding from truths we did not care to face. Maybe we knew each other better than we realised.

His quiet shudder as he came in a gentle series of thrusts matched my soft sighs. I lay in his arms staring up at the blue sky and the scudding spring clouds. He tickled my face with a daisy and grinned down on me. How wonderful living for the moment can be - in that moment. I breathed the air and his scent and closed my eyes.

Later East pulled me to my feet and we walked back to the creek to gather our discarded clothes. I felt like a nature child, carefree and unfettered, like a latter day hippie in this place where free love had first been proclaimed to the world. I sat and made a daisy chain as we lay together in the late afternoon warmth, talking of nothing much but happy to be quiet and at peace with each other.

East took the chain and arranged it on my hair. I giggled and sang:

If you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair.

He didn't recognise the song, unsurprisingly, but smiled anyway. What a wonderful way to heal a broken heart in the company of this pure young man!

As the early evening dew began to fall on the grass we made our way back to the house, his arm lightly on my shoulder.

"I'll show you to your room. You'll probably want to meet the other girls." We entered through a side door and he led me to the upper floor and a corridor with a number of bedrooms. He stopped before one and opened the door.

"She left. Some family problems, I think." He scratched at his hair; I reached up and pulled a money spider from it that must have found its way in the fields.

"Hey, Daisy? Can I see you again? Soon?" He asked in a quiet self-effacing way.

"Sure. I would like that so much. Soon." He leant down and kissed me lightly before turning to leave. I saw the grin on his face as he strolled away; he is so charming, this country boy.

The room was simple and comfortable; wooden floor, oak furniture and everything draped in white; long white voile curtains blowing gently at the open balcony doors as I stepped out and took in another another awe-inspiring view of the valley. I didn't have much luggage - just a holdall and a vanity case that East had carried up for me. I unpacked but found some pretty gowns in the wardrobe, nymph-like, scanty and sheer. I smiled. Not quite my scene, but dressing up can be fun- with the right man. Oh Jesus, don't let me start that again. I slammed the door closed on my subconscious.

After a shower and a change of clothes, I plugged in my laptop and had a browse. Not much going on. No diaries. Not many comments. Everyone was either busy or in shock. I heard a knock on the door and wondered if East was back. I hurried over, a smile already forming on my lips. It was not East.

"Hi, love. So you're the new girl? Not bad...put on something sexier, though. East isn't fussy but I have my standards. So, the stable boy broke you in, did he? Pity." He ran his knuckles down my face and let his eyes wander over the rest. "But, at least you don't seem bothered about getting down and doing it. Saw you from the window. Nice butt."

"Thank you - but I don't believe we've been introduced," I retorted sharply. The prick was too far up his own arse to read my tone.

"Kim. Why don't we go inside and I'll introduce you to all of me? You won't be disappointed, love. You'll soon know the difference between me and someone more used to handling horses, I guarantee it." God, was he messing with the wrong girl!

"Er....maybe some other time..." I began and tried to close the door.

He put his foot forward and forced it open. "Do you know how this place works, honey? The rules?" He gave me a look and a lascivious pout.

"Rules?"

"You are here to attend to our needs. I take it you fancy Russell Crowe- so this should be a labour of love for you."

I acted daft. "Russell Crowe?"

"Surely you know we all look like him."

"You don't. He's better looking than you," I shafted him one.

He didn't like it. "I do look like him. Will do when I grow up, anyway" he grinned.

I looked at him unconvinced. "Naw- can't see it myself."

"We have a few things in common. Know what I mean?" He glanced down at his groin.

"Is this how you always charm the ladies here, Kim?" I simpered. He grinned smarmily. 

"Want to know how I charm men like you?" I grinned back.

He stepped towards me. I raised my knee. Whack! That satisfying feeling of hitting the sweet spot! Kim crumpled, gasping. I stepped out of the door and closed it behind me.

"Let's get something straight, buster. Shares can go down as well as up. Just like dicks. You want a woman? Then learn how to treat her like a human being. Got that?"

His strangled cry could have meant a lot of things but it meant little to me. I am not normally given to violence- apart from the occasional toe up the jaxy- but I began to wonder whether there wasn't something in this male thing to hit out at someone when you feel the need to let rip. Well, Kim had stepped in my shadow and I was feeling good. I ran down the main staircase suddenly very hungry.

I followed the sound of male laughter and found myself in some sort of recreation room. There was the obligatory table footie game, some state of the art music equipment and a couple of computers. One guy was at the monitor reading something out. Another was lying on the floor, on his back laughing hard, his knees pulled up. A third man was stretched out on a leather settee reading a newspaper, a rather gorgeous blonde cradling his head and playing with his longish hair.

"Shut the fuck up will ya, ya morons. I'm trying to read," growled Zach.

"Wait... this is the best bit... 'Did you draw a  little diagram? You be Uptown and I'll be Downtown?' ...Jesus, she gets him every time..." Andy giggled and Johnny rolled about some more.

"I said shut the fuck up!"

"Keep your hair on, Zach! Don't pretend that you don't find it funny. Since when you been rooting for smarmy Thorne?" Andy replied.

"Jeez, any guy would sympathise with what he's had to put up from that crazy bitch. I can't stand women with an attitude," Zach bit back and ran his hand along the naked leg of his date underneath her dress. She had about as much attitude as Barbie.

"Uma is class. Her tongue should be a registered weapon. Thorne's on the ropes. He'll go down at the next count," Andy continued, grinning widely.

As you can imagine, I was a bit shocked. It's hard to hear your own words thrown back in your face like that and to realise that other people are treating your tragedy as if it was another episode of Neighbours. But, I write the diaries and post them- what else did I expect?

"Er...hello" Four pairs  of eyes shot to the door and there was an immediate change in atmosphere. Zach stood up and sauntered over to me.

"Hi, honey, I'm Zach," He smiled sweetly.

I shook his hand. "Very pleased to meet you. Unfortunately, I am a woman with an attitude. Ask Kim." With that I turned and went to meet the others.

Andy made the first move- he's got a bit more nous than Johnny ,who just lay back and stared. "You the new girl? East mentioned he'd had a...walk with you." Bugger young men and the need to brag!

"Yes. Where is East? I thought he might be around..."

"In bed. He reckoned he needed a sleep. I mean..." suddenly Andy seemed to realise what he had said. "He gets up early in the morning...been doing some hard riding...er...I mean...fuck...want a cuppa?"

I smiled. "Actually, I'm starving. Any food about?"

"Cook's day off." Johnny observed. I groaned inwardly. So it would be crisps and sandwiches for supper.

"S'okay, I'll rustle ya something up. I'm a pretty decent sous-chef," Andy grinned and I remembered he had worked in a bistro of some sort.

"You're on. I'll give you a hand."

We went through to the kitchen and he rooted around in the giant fridge, emerging with a stack of fresh ingredients. "Chicken Parmigiana- how's that sound?"

"Bloody brilliant. I'll make the sauce."

For the next half hour or so we pottered around the well-stocked kitchen chatting and helping each other. Andy's so relaxed. No side to him, just open and friendly. Once or twice I noticed him stealing a look at me, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he gave me a once over. It felt appealing. He's a young man and he was trying hard to be debonair but it's not easy because there are so many pitfalls that give it away. The constant side-looks, the nervous tongue, the touching of himself.

I wished I could put him at his ease, tell him that's all I wanted. I had had enough of alpha male and wished for the sweet comfort of men who would be grateful for my time and demand nothing more from me than my presence. I wanted no more soul mates.

We ate dinner on a deck outside the kitchen near a barbecue pit. It was enchanting- moonlight and a glass of local wine to accompany a tasty meal. Behind us, in the kitchen, groups of Brothers came and went, prowling for food and drink, laughing, entertaining women, friendly sounds that filled me with a peaceful calm. This place is blessed by some gods, whoever they are.

I yawned a few times, although I tried to stifle it; I didn't want Andy to feel that I was bored, because I wasn't. Not at all. But he realised that I had had a long day and he walked me back to my room. At the door, he said goodnight. I asked him in. I didn't want to face another lonely night. He is a lovely boy and he kept me safe.

Morning dawned, bright and sunny, and I wriggled back into the waiting arms. Andy stirred and reacted as young men do; I let him wash over me like a healing rain. We lay and listened to the morning sounds from beyond my balcony: voices, cars, shouts, radios, laughter.

"Thanks for last night. And this morning. It was really special," Andy whispered into my ear.

I nodded and held him. "You do understand, don't you? That it doesn't really mean anything in the long run? I just don't want to hurt you," I whispered back.

He smiled and raised himself up on his elbow. "Someone hurt you real bad? Is this why you do this job? To forget?"

I shrugged.

"I do understand. Men and women, hey? Never think the same thing at the same time. What is it with that?" He queried.

"You tell me," I answered.

He left. I lay back and dreamed a different story. My imagination is too fertile for my own good.

Up and dressed some time later, I decided to meet some of the girls with whom I shared a common profession, it would seem. How can I put it? Comfort women? Concubines? Cocottes? Courtesans? Let's be honest- tarts will do just as well. Tarts in a gilded cage.

I wandered down corridors that opened in to stunning valley views and stopped to drink in the morning.

"Uma?"

I spun round. Doc. Shit.

"Jeffrey! I...."

"What on earth are you doing here?" He was leaving a room that I suspect was not his own. Good for him.

"I'm here undercover," I said, a weak joke.

"Undercover?"

I sighed and pulled him down to sit on a wooden bench. "I came here for a break. I needed space. A couple of the boys thought I was a Naiad. It suits my purposes. You won't grass me up, will you?"

"Grass you up? Does that mean you don't wish to roll in the hay with me?" He teased.

I laughed. "Sorry. My Englishness coming out. Snitch. You won't snitch."

"Is this wise? Should you lie to them?" He looked all fatherly and sensible. I wanted to giggle.

"Wise? 'Course it bloody isn't. If I were wise I wouldn't be in this mess. But I do need this time. Please, Jeffrey. Please don't say anything. I'll do anything you want..."

He frowned and stood up. "Don't. I will do what you ask because you ask. Not because you barter your body for it. What kind of man do you think I am?"

"I didn't mean it to sound that way. I honestly didn't. I can't seem to get anything right these days." I was ashamed of myself. He sat down and stroked my face.

"And what does that tell you, hey? Think about what you're doing while you hide out here. But I won't snitch. What do they call you?" He smiled.

"Daisy."

"Daisy?" We both laughed. "Well, Daisy, I will see you around. Take care." He kissed me lightly on the cheek and walked off. We are so blessed but do not always appreciate it. Good men and good friends. I will remember you, Dr. Wigand.

I spent the morning with the Naiads. It was like a few hours in Hugh Hefner's mansion. God, I swear they didn't have half a brain cell between them, God love them, but they were gorgeous. Drop dead fucking gorgeous. But I still reckon we should invite those boys out more or maybe take a break here more regularly, otherwise their brains will atrophy.

I extricated myself away and wandered through the grounds over to the garage. I thought maybe some of the men were there. You know boys and cars. Paydirt.

"You want a car?" Colin emerged from beneath a car and shouted over as I sauntered up.

"No, just finding my way around," I replied. There were plenty of cars and bikes all around. It would have been interesting to try to match the motor with the brother.

"You new?"

"Yeah."

"Right."

"Call me Daisy."

"Colin."

He slung himself under the car again and disappeared. I sat there and watched for a while until he finished what he was doing and rolled back out.

"You still here?"

"Fancied a chat."

"Chat?" Colin screwed his eyes up as if the word was a new concept. This one was going to be hard work.

"Nice day."

"Yeah," he began to roll a cigarette and walked away from the cars to light it. "Smoke?"

I shook my head. He inhaled. "So where are you from?"

"England."

"Right."

"Keep you busy does it?"

"What?"

"This garage?"

"Something to do."

"Suppose so."

He stubbed out the cigarette and turned back towards the car.

"That it?" I asked.

"What?"

"The chat?"

He shrugged. "Fancy a ride?"

I nodded. Colin jumped over the driver's seat of an open top sports car and indicated for me to join him. He did at least have the manners to open my door.

I watched him as he drove, flicking stations on the radio until he found some country rock and then leaning back, driving with one hand and leaning on the door. I saw him stare over. "Bit older than the usual girls here, aren't ya?" He observed.

I raised my eyes. "Thanks, mate. Great chat up line."

He smiled a wry grin. "I'm not much of a one for small talk."

"I noticed, Colin," I grinned back. 

"You like speed?"

I nodded. He put his foot down and we roared down the narrow winding roads at way past any acceptable mph. I laughed out loud and let the wind rustle up my short blonde curls. The ones that I like so much. Colin  grinned and I suppose my reaction egged him on. We were lucky we didn't hit someone on one of the corners; it was still early in the season.

"Fancy a beer?" Colin asked and we pulled into a motel along the road, parking outside the Bar Lounge and I followed him in. A waitress looked up and gave him the eye. He seemed oblivious but I suspect he wasn't. He just isn't much of a one for physical response. I sipped on a Bud and then wandered over to the jukebox, putting on a record absentmindedly. The sounds of Alanis bemoaning mankind rang through the near-empty bar. Colin winced.

"Great chat up line," he muttered into his beer.

"What is?"

"This shit."

"I wasn't chatting you up."

He looked at me but said nothing.

"You hungry?"

I shrugged. He ordered two burgers and fries. 

"I don't like burgers."  Colin observed me as if I had just mentioned that I thought I was Napoleon. "I'll have a Caesar salad. Easy on the dressing." I said to the waitress.

"So you like it here, Col? Prefer it to Sydney?"

"It's OK. I prefer things a bit less picture perfect, ya know? But...easy living and I get to travel around." We had made progress but I felt like I was interviewing an unwilling victim.

"Would you like to live out? Maybe someone might ask you to be their Number One?"

He hunched his shoulders. "Dunno. Suits me now. Got everything I need here. You're pretty nosey, aren't ya?"

"Nosey? I am just trying to get to know you."

"Why?"

"Why not? If we're going to end up sharing some intimate acts, I might as well find out a little about you first."

"So you want me to ask you some questions? That make you feel better?" He didn't say it in a smart arsed way. It was a question pure and simple.

"Only if you want to, Colin."

"Do you believe in fate?" I nearly fell off my barstool. Luckily the food arrived and gave me some thinking time.

"Not sure. A week ago I would have said no, but now I think it might exist."

"Why?" He asked me with a direct simplicity that was refreshing. 

"I lost the bloke I love through my own stupidity and somehow it seems like it was bound to have happened sooner or later. So yes, maybe I do believe in fate."

"That why you're here?" Colin asked throwing down his fork and rolling another cigarette.

"Yes. I guess so." He nodded.

"Think one of us can heal your pain?"

I shrugged.

He shook his head. "Not fucking likely, love. It only makes you remember it more."

He stood up, paid and I followed him out. "You turning me down?" I panted in his wake.

Colin turned back. "No. Just warning you. I'm not the answer to whatever's biting you. You don't even like me. And I'm not sure I like you much either."

That stopped me in my tracks. "Then take me home. How can we proceed if we don't do it for each other?"

Colin rounded on me and pulled me against the car, suddenly kissing me full on. He has the knack. The Creator endowed Colin with more than just great biceps and a dodgy hair cut. My knees went and my body sagged in his arms; he tightened his grip and pulled me into his body. It didn't feel like we weren't doing anything for each other.

"Oh.....God...." I muttered.

"See? Something's working. Up to you. But I'm not sure I'm going to make you feel any happier."

"I don't think I have ever really had gratuitous sex before, Colin. I always felt a bond of some sort with the men I've been with. I don't believe that I don't care for you. You are a more sensitive man than you want me to think."

"Doesn't mean we'd ever have anything to say over the breakfast table though, would it?"

He was right. I cannot have a relationship with a man that I don't talk to. I ran through the Brothers I know and realised that we had such wonderful companionship. Maximus and our intellectual swordplay, Jack and his open honesty, Cort and his devilish charm, Bud and his deep inner life, Arthur and his curiosity, Nash and his beautiful mind....Terry ...oh my sweet Terry, the foil for all I am. I bit down the recognition and pushed it away.

"You won't be staying for breakfast." I answered brusquely Shall we get a room?" 

It was a plain and simple motel room, with two single beds and the tawdry newness of paint applied over shabbiness. I wondered how many other men and women had snatched moments on these well-laundered sheets to cheat, pretend and maybe occasionally love. It occurred to me that I might not be able to do this thing when it came to it, but my natural curiosity drove me on. This is what a whore feels like. I wondered what Jack would think of me, or Bud. They must have a category in their heads for women who are prepared to act like this.

Colin sat down on the bed and unlaced his boots. I began to unbutton my blouse. There was a mechanical quality about it all that gave me the urge to laugh. We were about to do the unthinkable as if it were as normal as brushing one's teeth or going to the store. Like when you listen to the safety drill on a plane that is taxiing down the runway and you know that none of these things will mean a tiddly squat if disaster should actually strike. But everyone pretends.

He pulled off his shirt. I toed off my sandals. He lay on the bed and watched me, smoking languidly. I crawled on all fours up his body, clad in my underwear and helped myself to the fag from his mouth, dragging deeply on it. He trailed a hand down my body.

Lifting up his butt, he took something from his back pocket- it was a packet of condoms - and he threw them on the bed beside him. "I thought you guys were safe." I said.

"Infertile doesn't mean safe. Don't want to risk either of us. Neither of us knows where the other's been." I shuddered: the reality of the world invading my little fantasy. I wonder if Terry had...of course, he would have. He thinks of everything. He wouldn't have risked himself or the other Sisters. It is me who would have stumbled into danger without an idea in my head.

"Thank you," I added quietly. He nodded.

"Casual sex can still be good. You know that, don't you?" he whispered before pulling me down to his lips for a kiss. I closed my eyes and felt his body and my own betray us both. Yes, it does feel good, this masquerade. But only with a man who is capable of making it so.

I stripped him slowly and he watched me with his intense gaze. His body is amazing, bronzed and powerful, thick muscles and broad biceps ringed with that tawdry tattoo. I buried my face against the hair on his chest and toyed with his nipples, he rolled back and sighed. His lack of emotional response to conversation was not masked by his reaction to touch; he is so tactile and expressive. His eyes convey the sensation that he is feeling. It drove me on. Some men make you want to lie in their arms, others make you want to lead them. Colin is the latter.

But when he is ready, he is awesome. It is a fact that I have discovered in my journey through the world of the senses that men who find it hard to respond emotionally in everyday situations are often the most passionate in intimacy. As I scuttled down his body and lapped and suckled at his fine cock, he writhed in sensuous abandon; I adored the control that I had over him.

Reaching down, he pulled me from him and rolled me over beneath him. He kissed and caressed me, murmuring and smiling and then made love to me as if he meant it. But when he closed his eyes and I mine, I knew that we were both elsewhere and I was grateful for his silence. He could have been anyone, so could I.  A tear ran down my cheek as I came in his arms. A body is just a body after all. It is a heart that cannot be replaced.

The ticking of a clock on the wall woke me up and I started. Colin was asleep by my side; it was early evening. The bed was wrecked and the packet empty. I tiptoed away and dressed. Outside I wandered along the road and hitched a lift from a passing truck. The guy was sleazy but I slumped against the door and he did nothing more than leer at me. I reached the Temple and ran for the safety of my room.

A telephone's strident bell woke me with a start. I fumbled with my hand phone and answered, voice thick with early morning hoarseness.

"Who is it?" I mumbled.

"Uma? Is that you? I rang the main desk but they said you never arrived. Is everything all right? Where are you, honey, you've had us worried."

"Cort?" I sat up and ran a hand through my hair. "I'm fine. I'm at the Temple. It's just that...they don't know who I am. I never told them my real name."

"What? Why not? They'd be delighted to see one of the Sisters." 

I sniffed. "I just preferred to be incognito."

"Well who do they think you are then?" Cort asked.

"Daisy, the new Naiad."

"What? A Naiad, you? How did you pull that off?"

I groaned. "A young man with a raging stiffie tends to believe what he's told."

Cort paused as if he were about to say something and then thought better of it. He cleared his throat and I got the impression he had covered the receiver and was talking to someone with him in the room.

"As long as you're sure," he continued. "We're coming over tomorrow afternoon. I wanted to check you would be there."

"We?"

"Jack, Bud and myself. The very odd ménage a trois. But we are managing. Should we call you Daisy?" Cort laughed.

"Up to you. Jack is bound to let it slip. You know what he's like. It will be great to see you."

"Likewise. I'll get off then. Bye, honey..."

"No, wait, Cort...is there any news?"

"News?" There was a silence. "You mean, about Terry?"

I said nothing, wishing I hadn't mentioned it.

"He's...he's away, I think. In Japan with..."

"Oh, right. Yeah, makes sense on a number of levels, doesn't it?" I swallowed hard.  "Give them my regards if you speak to them. I'll see you tomorrow, sweetie. Bye."

Replacing the receiver, I jumped out of bed and ran around the room, searching for a crushed packet of cigarettes I had seen in my hand luggage. Lighting up, I coughed and banged my head against the wall. Jesus. That hurt. Even though I knew it would happen. It bloody hurt like a knife between the ribs. I slipped down the wall and sat curled up on the floor, hugging my knees. I gritted my teeth and jammed my nails into my palms rocking back and forth. Drawing deep rhythmic breaths I controlled myself and choked back the wave of nausea and panic that threatened to swamp me. My vision finally cleared and I stood up a little shakily.

Slipping off my clothes, I donned a bikini from the drawer and wrapped a towel round me. I needed a swim. Minutes later, I dived in the beautiful pool and began my lapping, driving myself faster and faster into oblivion. I lost count of how many lengths I travelled and swam on and on until my arms and legs protested and then lay back floating in the cool blue water. Pulling myself over the side, calmer now, I sat awhile on the marble edge, dabbling my feet and thinking. It was pointless; you can't change your fate. Even Colin had said as much. With a shrug I got to my feet and followed the arrow to the spa that I knew was set back beyond a grove of fragrant shrubs. I just wanted to soak in a warm scented bath and drift.

In the changing room, I peeled off my wet suit and strolled into the bathroom. I don't know which one of us was more surprised. Steve was there, lying in a bath and talking on his phone, a cigar in his teeth. His mouth fell open and it tumbled into the water.

"Jeez. Just what I need," he gasped as he fished the soggy tobacco out. I stepped back as if to leave, but my evil twin sister whispered in my ear. Something about 'what have you got to lose?' 'Sod all, mate', I replied. So I climbed into that bath, threw his phone onto the chair and we tested out Archimedes' theory on the displacement of water. Eureka! Steve's wasn't hard to find.

OK. Let's review. Third day. East, Andy, Colin, Steve. Blown Kim and Zack off. Talked nicely to Doc. Seen Johnny. That's eight guys. There were sixteen at the moment in the temple. Who's left? Arthur- in Wales, SID- in restraint, thank God. Alex out of town. That left- Jack Corbett, Egan and Lachlan. No. Not Lachlan. Not now when I am behaving like a tramp. I would die of shame.  Dominic- no chance- I've got enough guilt at the moment, thanks. That's fifteen. Who's the missing one? Oh God...John. My beautiful John! Where will he be? Suddenly I had an urge to talk with him. I raced to my room, dressed and ran looking for his apartment. I found a cleaner who spoke little English but recognised the name.

"Professore. This room. No let me clean. Say go 'way!" She indicated a door ahead.

Sounds like John and his skill at charming people, I thought. I knocked and listened. No reply.

"It's me, John," I pushed the door open a little.

"Whoever you are, go away." John was at his desk, his back to me, he turned and made a shooing motion with his hand.

"It's Uma."

He swivelled around and dropped his coffee. It splashed all over his lap; he appeared not to notice. "Uma?" He seemed confused and then I wondered if he was unsure if I was real or not. Stepping into the room, I stood, arms out, and grinned. I watched him study me, raise his right hand to his hair and then wave it around absentmindedly. "Your hair?"

"A woman's prerogative."

"It is... ah... very pretty." I don't imagine that's a word he often says.

"John!" I ran across the room, sidestepping piles of books, folders and other junk and fell into his arms. He swung me up.

"When did you arrive?" He asked me as he lifted me into his arms.

"Three days ago."

"What?" 

"John, I've been around. Have you even left your room in three days?"

He looked about him in that way he has as if he has only just realised where he is - and then he laughed. "I don't think so. Come sit down, let me tell you what I am working on..."

At that I snorted. "John...I have as much chance of understanding that as of conversing in fluent Swahili- in fact I think my Swahili's better. And don't you think you ought to take your pants off?"

"Huh?" He asked with a sudden glint in his eye.

"Hey, less of that! You just split coffee on them. Let's get you a clean pair." I looked around for some fresh clothes. "John, this room is a pigsty. Right, clothes off and shower while I find some thing clean for you to wear. We are going out for the day and the cleaners are coming in."

"No...I'm in the middle of..."

"Shut up and do as you are told, Professor Nash," I smiled pointedly at him.

With a huff, he threw his hands up and did as he was told, stripping off and dumping his clothes with the rest of his laundry on the floor. He really needs someone to look after him. The idea suddenly seemed very appealing.

"Shave as well. You obviously haven't been near a razor for days, either." I shouted as he showered. Handing him a clean towel from the cupboard, he wrapped it round him and began to shave.

"You must understand, Uma. I have made a significant breakthrough in an area of Dynamics that I have been pondering for months," he muttered as he skimmed the Remington over his stubble.

"Big deal. They'll still be just as dynamic when you get back. But you need fresh air, food, fun and possibly even some dirty sex. But we'll talk about that later. How's that sound?"

John washed the lather off his face. "The best offer I've had in a while, I must say. Dynamics are engrossing but they do tend to be rather short on physical stimulation."

"That's what I suspected. Let's do the Wineries and get pissed. Dynamite, hey?" I handed him a pile of clothes and he dutifully dressed. He is gorgeous and he just doesn't know it. I smiled at his casual nakedness as he slipped on his briefs and pants and let me button up his shirt, all the while attempting to explain his breakthrough to me, while I nodded and acted suitably impressed. As we left the building some time later, I whispered to a cleaner. "Professor Nash's room needs mucking out. Don't throw any papers away- put them on the desk but gut the rest of the place. He won't be back till tomorrow, I'll guarantee that."

John drove us down the forest roads until we descended into the valley and the picturesque neatness of the vineyards. It was much hotter here than the cooler slopes of the hills. We chose a vineyard and turned into the long driveway towards the main buildings. A tour group were just disembarking from a coach and we tagged along into a great hall with stone flagged floor and a high ceiling, like a huge barn.

There was a counter top that ran the entire length of the room behind which there were thousands of wine bottles in racks. The walls were hung with plaques, awards and old implements from the early days of the wine business. We paid our entry fee and joined the tour that was to show us the entire wine production cycle. John seemed bemused by it all, unused to being herded along or even to being part of a crowd. But he observed everything and everyone with an unsettling stare, his eyes darting from one to another, almost too intrusive on the conversations of others. It occurred to me that he might elicit a negative reaction; he treats other people as if they are merely curiosities for him to study and has no real concept of the rights of the individual. He is not consciously unkind, merely dismissive of others and unable to empathise. Or so I thought.

Our guide was a cutie; a neat bronzed guy dressed in khaki shorts and a T-shirt emblazoned with the wineries logo. He was good looking, possibly of Mediterranean origin with one of those pencil beards so beloved of Italian footballers. We followed him through vast hangar- like rooms full of the new hygienic and hi-tech tools of wine production, great vats of steel, huge stainless steel rollers for crushing the grape, giant barrels of oak. It was fascinating and we both listened intently, annoyed by the indifference of some of the tourists who were merely interested in the sampling to follow.

"Go outside if you haven't the wit to follow the lecture," John snapped at one young couple who seemed to prefer noisy snogging to improving their General Knowledge. I took his hand and gently pulled him away, shaking my head. He smiled wryly but clasped my fingers in his. I leant against his arm and he encircled me as we walked along to the tasting room.

They don't stint on these tours. I sampled 11 different wines. Don't tell me you are supposed to spit them out. I know. Are you joking- waste good vino? That would be against my religion. So, as you can imagine, I was rather piddled by the time we left.

"I think we should eat," said John. That is quite a statement from him. He normally needs reminding.

"Good idea, Prof," I giggled and we went along to the restaurant where we had a steak and salad and a fine red. I was wasted by then. After that we took a walk through the rows and rows of vines, hand in hand, soaking up the sun and walking off the after effects of food and wine. But the tongue was loosened and the confidences came pouring out. I knew this man and he knew me. I suppose it was the opener I needed.

"...I don't understand," he said, "but then, I rarely understand the behaviour of people. I have never acquired the facility to comprehend the intricacies of human relationships."

"Some of us spend out whole lives trying, but I'm not sure we ever get close," I observed.

"Why don't you talk to him? You're obviously unhappy and don't really want to end your relationship."

"He won't. He's stubborn."

"And you?" John smiled at me.

"And I am stubborn, too, I know. But he's with someone else already and she is someone he has loved since before he met me. I don't think I can compete with that."

"You expect him to see no one at a time like this? You ran for shelter quickly enough," he reminded me.

"To comparative strangers. Not to ...to someone who would be a replacement."

He nodded. "Will you ever find your way back?"

I hunched my shoulders. "Perhaps. I don't know. Somehow I've given up. A part of me has died inside and maybe I should let it rest in peace."

John stood back and viewed me with a frown. "I never thought you were the type of girl to quit. Give it one more try. Men are fools. They are proud and would rather shoot themselves in the head than admit they might have got something wrong. Or that they might need someone more than they wished they did. It is the courage and the loyalty of women that saves mankind. This I know. I know it in here." He picked up my hand and touched his heart.

His words rang true; but could I be that kind of woman that he meant, courageous and single-minded? I wasn't sure. "You look like him," I spoke the words that I thought I had only said in my brain.

John laughed. "Well, of course I do!"

I covered my face with my hands. "I know that," I grinned. "I mean you are the most like him physically. Sometimes you seem like him from the corner of my eye. But the expression in your eye is different. You are far away where he is sharp and aware; you are dreamy and indifferent to your surroundings where he is constantly assessing and controlling it. Terry knows exactly what effect he wants to have wherever he is and you have no self-awareness at all. Most of all, you are hopeless at looking after yourself while he appears to need nothing and nobody."

We walked on, thinking on my words. "Every body needs someone. If he cannot show that then he is more pathetic than I," John suddenly stated, as if he had just discovered a new theory on Theoretical Mathematics.

"Do you need someone in your life, John? Would you prefer to live with a sister and be taken care of?" He looked sharply at me and bit his lip.

"What do you mean, Uma?"

"I think I need someone to love, John. I don't think I can live alone. I wouldn't hassle you- I have my own work- and I like to be free and see whomever I wish. We might be very good for each other." The idea seemed to make more and more sense as I elaborated it. Why not? A Number One with whom I might live in domestic calm with no fear of stormy passions to damage either of us but friendship and support and the added bonus of good sex and a strong warm body in the night.

John stopped and pulled me into his arms, holding my back against him and wrapping his arms around. He bent his head to my ear and whispered. "They say that my greatest ability in the realm of abstract thought is to distance myself from the mountain of data that enshrouds a problem. I prefer to look from atop another mountain and see the larger picture. I work from hunches; brilliant flashes of imagination that make sense only to me. Then I prove I am right by months, years of relentless searching for the mechanics of the solution."

"Climb another mountain and look at your problem. Find the mechanics of your solution, however long it takes. But let me give you the benefit of this intuitive insight. You do not love me. You love him. You are not the kind of woman that settles for the comfortable easy option, although I see little of comfort or easiness in a life with me! The answer to a problem never lies in compromise or make-do. Only the truth can set you free. I would break you with my need. But the offer is much appreciated and it is hard for a man like me to refuse."

"But you are refusing?" I smiled through my tears.

He turned me round and stroked back my hair. "Yes. But, I would like to see you whenever you are kind enough to invite me." His lips touched mine, hesitant and hopeful.

"Stay with me tonight?" I whispered. He pressed himself against me and sighed.

"I have thought of little else all day," he blushed and looked more like a little boy than an eminent mathematician.

Arms wrapped round each other, snogging as openly as the young couple that had irritated him earlier, we strolled back to the car. As he opened my door and I slid in he suddenly said, "Wait!" and ran off.

Minutes later he returned with a bottle of champagne that he had bought at the wine shop.

"John, has anyone ever told you - you're a genius?" I giggled as he smirked, so pleased with himself, and we drove off. I lay back on the leather seat and stretched like a contented cat. I knew the night ahead would be filled with a gentle tenderness that I needed so much. It would be like a tourniquet on my bleeding heart.

"What was that?" John lay face down in my bed, head buried in the pillows muttering something. You never know with John whom he's talking to: you, his imaginary companions or himself.

"I said, can you move? I need the bathroom," he replied; I grinned and climbed off his back where I had been stretched out measuring my length. He sat up on the end of the bed and thrust his legs into his pants, pulling them up as he staggered to the toilet. We had slept in late, our heads fuzzy with hangover after champagne cocktails which, by the stickiness of the sheets, must have been served on each other's body.

As he returned, he groaned and flung himself back into bed. "You are seriously interfering with my schedule," he complained and then proceeded to run his right hand under the sheet to caress my butt.

"Hey, since when has my bum been on your schedule?" I teased. John rolled back, shrugging off his pants.

"Imagine that- if I could inscribe my calculations on your naked body, what a satisfying arrangement that would be for both parties," he grinned as he flipped me onto my back and nuzzled up, his cock already searching for a resting place.

I wriggled down against him and gave his semi-hardness the benefit of my tender mercies. "You know, John, you're completely mental!"

He laughed into my neck as he burrowed down. "It is one of the benefits of my condition that I am tolerated for my bizarre inclinations. Although - I do occasionally get my face slapped." We fell into giggles at that and John took the opportunity to pin me down and be assertive. He is a surprisingly masterful lover, or perhaps it is not so surprising. John Nash is headstrong and individualistic, arrogant and eccentric. If he wishes to do or say something, he rarely considers anyone but himself. That may not always be helpful in social relations but it means he is not reserved when he wants to get laid. John makes a move and if you don't say no- he is away. But, given his natural attributes, the Creator's gifts and his single-minded pursuit of an ideal- I cannot see many women complaining, actually. Not in bed any way- I certainly wasn't. Not unless you count: "NO...no...oh my God...NO!!!" as a complaint.

We lay back talking afterwards, still flushed with pleasure and, as usually happens, we confided some more.

"Where to from here?" John asked, cradling me in strong arms.

"England. Recharge the old batteries. Get rained on. Go see the footie," I replied.

"Give it another chance, Uma," he changed the subject back. "Find a solution that suits both parties. He's an expert at the Game Theory. Use it against him. I challenge you. Are you scared of a challenge?"

"I am petrified, mortified ...you think you're bloody clever, don't you, Nash? You can't even manage to dress with matching socks. Don't try to pull one over on me."

He laughed. "I'm right, though. I'm always right. That's why I am a genius. Seriously now, you have a good brain and it has a curious lateral element to it, which, I may add, is always an indicator of intuitive thought. You never approach a problem from the obvious angle. I see it in your writing. You begin in one place and you end somewhere quite different and unexpected but - there is a method in your madness that is all the more effective for its surprise. Why did you come here rather than do the obvious?"

"The obvious?"

"Don't waste my time with your evasive answers. I find them annoying and unconvincing," he snapped. You never know when he is going to snap. I sat up and turned around.

"What would be obvious to you, John?"

"Maximus. He has no partner and you are alone. Logical next step."

"Logical if this was Maths, Statto! But I can't simply move in on someone else, just like that!"

He shrugged. "That's what this place is all about it seems. No one seems to mind."

That brought a snort of derision from me. "Don't be too sure. And I happen to be the world's worst at playing this game. I can't get the knack. I either fall for them or feel very little and it seems cheap. Reckon it's my Catholic upbringing. No, Maximus is bad news. I might just do something I will regret and I've had enough of that already."

"I find the workings of the human heart a great deal more complex than Dynamics."

"We all do, John. It isn't just you by any means!" I kissed him and went to leave the bed. He pulled me back.

"Please. One more try? Open the negotiations. Put an offer on the table that he can respond to, enough to make compromise possible. He will see what it costs you- it is a concept that he understands well. I recommend you have a look at my Theory. You have absolutely no grasp of the concept at all, it would appear!" He held my hand until I nodded and gave my word. "Good and now I must go and tussle with my theory which, may I add, you have so signally interrupted. Women can be such a distraction at times. I hope when I get older I will be less driven by my sexuality..." I raised my eyes to heaven and let him ramble on. How does he get away with it?

When John had left, I did some thinking and then made up my mind. Whatever had been in my mind when I arrived, I was at a very different place four days later and ready to move on. But first, I had some things to do. Writing a message, I pinned it on the fridge door in the kitchen with a rather crudely shaped magnet. If there is one place they will all look during the day at some point is in the refrigerator!

And then I took myself off. Packed some sandwiches, a flask of coffee and my notebook, walked off into the fields and found a quiet spot where I was unlikely to be observed and there I settled to write and think and snooze and stare out over the perfect loveliness of the valley. It was a soporific and contemplative afternoon.

At four, I suddenly realised I was running late, so I belted back up to the house and made my way to the Games room. They were all there - at least most of them were- and it was quite something to see such a gathering. Johnny, Dominic and Andy were lying on the floor, Colin slouching against a wall, smoking, Zach commandeering the easy chair, Doc at the computer, Steve sitting leaning on the back of a chair, Kim sprawled on the couch, even John sitting quietly at the back of the room. Just after I entered, East strolled in and smiled. Wow!

"Should I start?" I asked the assembled crowd.

"The others are away," Andy observed.

I nodded and sat on the edge of a table trying not to be unnerved by the spectacle of all those eyes watching me with different degrees of intensity.

"I haven't been completely honest with you all. I'm not a Naiad."

"We know." Andy seemed to be the spokesman for the group.

"You know?"

"Yeah. A Naiad isn't a job, love. They aren't real. Not in the true sense of the word anyway," Andy volunteered.

"But...East...you said..."

East shrugged. "Actually you said. It just seemed that's the way you wanted it to be. That's fine by us. Whatever works for you."

I stared. "Do you know I'm a Sister then?"

They all nodded and there were some amused looks between them.

"How did you know?"

"We can sense you. There is a connection. Plus you did log your visit on the calendar and we'd have to be pretty dense not to know Uma when we saw her. Written all over your face, darlin'," Zach smiled.

"...But if you knew then...have we been playing a game?" I was confused.

"You came here because you needed something. We're a bunch of guys. Ya can't expect Relationship Counselling from us, love. But we did have some things to say. In our own way," Steve replied.

I looked at Colin and he raised his eyebrows, dragging on the end of his cigarette. I felt a sudden surge of emotion. He had been warning me for my own good of what might happen if I let caution fly at a time like this. How could I have been so stupid and so judgemental of him?

I caught Kim's satisfied expression. "Your balls recovered? That was some sacrifice!" Zach muttered something about it being long overdue anyway.

I did what you would expect. I burst out crying. The room of men looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Fancy a beer or something?"  Johnny said with a helpless look on his face.

"Go on, then," I replied, sniffing, always one to accept an offer of a beverage. We cracked a few cans and the atmosphere lightened. From there, I went around the room and there was plenty of kissing and cuddling, smiles and a lot of teasing. Music was turned up and we started dancing and fooling about.

Suddenly I heard the Latin beat of "La Vida Loca." You know me- jump on a table and I am off. "Hey, Colin, show us how it's done!" I yelled and he moved rather faster than usual and we started dancing. The other men were egging us on and I don't need much encouragement at the best of times.  As he swung me round, I whispered, "Thanks Colin. I misjudged you. You are not what I thought."

"Reckon you'd still have nothing to say to me over the breakfast table," he grinned back at me.

"Who'd be eating with you naked in my bed?" I teased and he pulled me closer, to the howls from the others, and the dancing just got dirtier and dirtier. There was plenty of bump and grind, simulated sex, massaging of body parts and, with the bawdy comments of the others, it must have looked so much worse than it actually was to someone walking in on it.

I was leaning forward over the back of a chair while Colin, hands on my butt cheeks was humping himself against me in time to the music. He had already stripped off his shirt and my skirt was rather rucked up round my thighs.

You know the moment in an old movie when the bad guy appears in the saloon doors and casts a shadow? You all know a reckoning is at hand. Well, suddenly it happened. A shadow in the doorway and all eyes turned. Bud. Standing there like he was just about to pick someone up and ram there head down a toilet or hoist them out of the nearest window. He stormed in, kicked a chair out of the way, walked over Johnny and Dominic, literally, grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the room. No one moved.

"Hey, what's up, mate?" Andy shouted.

Bud turned round. "Shut the fuck up, kid. Or you want to make something of it?"

Andy held his hands up in surrender.

"Leave her alone." East stood up quietly and stared at Bud. I realised I better intervene.

"It's OK, guys, his bark's worse than his bite. He won't hurt me." They said nothing but were watching him carefully as he continued to drag me away.

"What...what did you do that for?" I gasped trying to wriggle unsuccessfully from Bud's grasp as he towed me into the kitchen.

"What the fuck you doing?" Bud shouted as he let go of my hand.

"Dancing!" I answered rubbing at my sore wrist.

"Dancing? You were behaving like a slut." Bud snapped back through gritted teeth.

"WHAT! How dare you say that! I was just dancing. What's got into you?"

"Dancing? With that jerk's cock half way up your butt?" He replied.

I was furious. "That is just sexy dancing. We were messing about!"

"How long before you lost the clothes and gave them all a free show?"

My mouth dropped open. "You complete bastard! Who do you think you are?"

He ignored me and grabbed my arm, pulling me to him. "How many of them...how fuckin' many?" He pushed his face into mine. "Or were you just giving it out to allcomers today?"

I slapped his face. "How dare you say that! I am so fucking sick of being told what to do by some of you. Piss off and leave me alone!"

"Calm down!" Bud held up his hands and backed off- he doesn't like women shouting at him evidently.

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down. The last time you calmed down there was a Z in the month. If I want to lose my temper then I fucking will!" I pointed my finger in his face.

He took a further step back. "Stop swearing. You sound like a fuckin' tramp."

"Tramp? Well, guess you're the one who'd know, mate. Tramp? Tramp?" I was dancing from one foot to the other now. Bud should have been scared.

"Listen, honey, you get a hold of yourself. This is not right. I'm taking you out of this place and you are going listen to some sense."

"Me? Sense? From you? Don't make me laugh. I just spent the day with John Nash. I know where I want to go when I want an intelligent conversation! And I know where I want to go when I need a fuck." I was going for the jugular and I was ashamed of it even as I said it.

Bud walked to the door; I thought he would simply leave- but he turned on his heel. He spoke quietly and I could see that he was both hurt and concerned.

"Jeez, you can sure dish it out, honey. Never seen this side of you before."

"...And if you say- is it that time of the month...I will thump you in the face!" I bawled at him. I saw him repress a slight grin. That just made me even madder. "What is the matter with you? Don't you understand that I'm a grown woman and I can do whatever I like? I don't need a man to look after me. I don't need any man. You have no right to come here and make a fool of me before other blokes who have been kind to me. What are you- the arbiter of morals? If I want to fuck any man I like - it is not your business! It's all you want from me anyway. All any of you want."

"Say what? Is that what you think of me?" Bud stood stock still, his eyes bruised and his face contorted. I had really hurt him.

I had stopped for breath and I knew I'd gone too far. Again. Bud just caved in. Held his hands up and leant back against the table like he was surrendering.  Then he shrugged and I saw a wry look of amusement cross his face.

"Are you laughing at me?" I snapped.

"Yes. Because you are lying and it's so fuckin' obvious- even to a loser like me. Tell the truth, why don't you?"

"If you laugh at me....I'll...I'll..." I struggled for words.

"Hit me? Knee me in the balls?"  He looked at me, I glared at him and then we both started to grin at the absurdity of it all. "Jeez, Uma, you scare me shitless. I'm even beginning to feel sorry for Thorne!" He remarked as he stepped over to me.

"God, Bud, I'm just so crazy at the moment. I don't what it looked like then but it was just dirty dancing- honest. You're an old fashioned guy. I suppose it looked like a live sex show to you- but it wasn't and it couldn't have become like that. Those guys are great and they've been taking really good care of me..."

"I'll bet," Bud added sarcastically.

"They have- and what I did with them is my business! OK?"

He nodded. "I was worried about you. You never called back. Then you turned up here and...I read the fucking diaries, honey. I didn't like what I read."

I slipped my arms round his neck. "I didn't call you because you had business of your own. I didn't want to lay this on you now. But thanks for caring enough to want to protect me. I was lying. I don't just come to you for a fuck, you know that. I care for you very much but...I have to work this out in my own way. You do understand that, don't you?"

Bud pulled me against him and kissed me gently. "You sure you're getting there? Want me to tag along awhile?"

I shook my head. "No. But I appreciate the offer. I'm doing just fine. Off to England tomorrow." I smiled up at him; he stroked my face wistfully.

"You gonna try and fix it?"

"Maybe. We'll see. I'll call you. Promise."

I think we might have become a little more intimate if Jack hadn't walked in looking at something outside unusually distracted. Bud and I let go of each other, somewhat guiltily, and stepped apart. We hugged and kissed; Bud looked a bit embarrassed and then followed Jack's line of vision out over the back patio.

"Who the fuck dressed them up?" Bud grunted pointing at a few Naiads who were running past, their shimmering garments rippling as they went. "Ziegfeld?"

"They are Naiads, Bud. Creatures of men's fantasies. Tenders of the holy flame of the temple. A man's delight."

Jack made a deep sigh of approval. "Indeed. Delight. I have rarely seen such a fine form in many a day as that young raven-haired fairy," he was enraptured. Bud snorted.

"Jesus Christ! That your fantasy? Sure as hell ain't mine..." then he stopped as a tall statuesque blonde, elegantly dressed in a figure hugging satin gown sashayed past giving him the once-over followed by a very overt come-on. I heard Bud clear his throat.

"Bud...Jack...run along, will you? I'm sure you can find something here to occupy you. Seconds later, Jack popped back in.

"Uma...my apologies, I am a buffoon. I haven't even acknowledged your presence properly..." He came up and took my hand, kissing it in that adorable way he has. I grinned broadly.

"No offence taken. I'll catch you later. Hurry up- Bud might rethink Peasblossom and Cobweb or whatever they're called- claim your prizes, Captain!"

With a smile and a flourish, Jack left and gave chase. 

Some time later, just as dinner was about to be served, it occurred to me that I hadn't seen my guests for awhile. "Wonder where Jack and Bud are?" As if I didn't know! Wherever they had gone- they must both be starving by now!

I went to look for them. In the main dining room, dinner was already starting and I found Bud in there eating with the others - but no Jack. Jack not around at dinnertime? Seemed scarcely credible.

With growing amusement I ran through the house on a 'Hunt the Jack' quest. Pool- he likes swimming - not there. Stables- maybe fancied a ride- not there either. Back to the house, I began checking room after room - but all were empty. The place seemed deserted.

"JACK!!!" I shouted.

"JAAAAACK!!" I repeated. But no Jack.

Finally I came to one large double door at the end of an imposing marble corridor. It was the actual inner sanctum of the temple. We pushed open the heavy oak doors and the fragrance of incense and flowers hit me straight away. And so did the noise of giggling women and a deeper rumbling laugh that could only be Jack. We had found him- the sea dog himself, lying naked before the goddess, with a bevy of delicious Naiads in attendance. It was like a scene from a Classical painting. Paris and the Graces. Apollo and the Muses. Neptune and the Nereids.

"Jack Aubrey...you dog! So that's where you've been hiding!" I screamed with amusement. Jack, I have to say, showed not the least embarrassment - I think the incense had affected his brain. He just lay back and grinned. I clapped my hands and the Naiads reluctantly picked up their cast-off robes and scattered. Gathering up Jack's clothes that were trailed all over the chamber as they had been stripped from him, I handed them over.

"Come on, get your breeches on, Captain, or I won't know where to keep my eyes!" Jack dressed quickly and suddenly I realised we were alone.

Leaving the heady atmosphere of the dark, candlelit temple, Jack and I sauntered along the corridor and went out into the grounds. We walked for a while, chatting about this and that, his forthcoming trip on the tall ship and how Bud and he had got on rather well if in an unconventional sort of way. But, inevitably, he steered the conversation around to my recent problems.

"Why didn't you come to me? You know that I am in your debt and would do anything in my power to assist you," Jack graciously informed me.

I couldn't really answer that. The truth was that I didn't want him to know that my break-up with Terry might impinge on his life in a way that seemed too cruel for words. The less I said to Jack the better, I felt. So I said nothing, merely hunched my shoulders and turned away. He caught my arm and held me back.

"I may act as if I do not always follow the nuances of the game, my dear. It was a knack I learnt in my command. A well-run ship requires a modicum of blind-eye turning as well as a high level of discipline. There are times a captain needs to see everything and times when he must needs see nothing. Do you follow me, Uma?" His eyes were piercing and I suddenly saw a different Jack, the consummate tactician and strategist.

"I think so," was my hesitant reply.

"Allow me to plan my own campaign and keep my counsel. I have never required the advice of others to proceed as I see fit. Do not consider me when you plan yours. But, may I add some pieces of advice from my many years at the game of negotiation and attack? It is not merely modern men who are skilled at parley and dealing with opposing parties. Strike while the iron is hot and before the bread has risen. Delay can be the enemy of all, for once the deed is done, it is damned hard to undo."

"The element of surprise, the unexpected (all things at which you excel, my dear) are your main weapons. Men are poor opponents in the game of love and easily bested. Use your gifts and make your assault. Fire a few broadsides and expect a few in return. But once you board, make every blow count. Need I say more?"

I smiled adoringly up at him, so touched by his understanding and the unique delicacy of his message to me. "But, you are sailing stormy waters too, Jack. Make sure you take your own advice."

He winked at me. "I am a master at the game of keeping a woman in every port but I always sail home at the end of a voyage. No matter what tempests toss me on the way, my goal is ever in my sights. But I am a fatalist, my dear. I do what is in my power and then I trust in God - for what else can one do but one's best and then hope? It lies forever in the...what was that dashed place wherein hope ever lies?" He scratched his head.

"In the human breast, Jack," I whispered and he smiled and placed his hand on his heart and then on mine.

"Ah yes, the human breast. A favourite resting place of mine!" I hugged him close and we went back to find the others and some food for the captain. He was suddenly ravenous.

Dinner was a raucous and rowdy affair. Bud seemed to have made a sort of peace with the others, although there was a certain amount of teasing and name-calling across the table (I heard someone say 'psycho cop' and Bud raising one eyebrow in warning) but the real star was of course, Jack. The other brothers were intrigued at the sight of him and he was clearly astonished at being in the presence of so many incarnations of himself. At first it appeared that he might be irritated by them, especially some of the comments about his hair.

"Hey, Goldilocks! Where d'ya get your hair done?"

"Always wondered what we'd look like in drag!"

Jack informed them all that they could do with a few years afloat on one of his ships and he'd show them some discipline. But it gradually became more friendly and we sat and listened to their eager questions about life at sea, some of his battles ('just pass me that salt cellar, boy!') and wenching in ports. Men always seem to find something that they can connect with. It was a very merry gathering.

My last night. I waved goodbye as they drove off and watched as the lights of the car disappeared, my arms wrapped round myself in the cool night breeze. The headlights of a powerful motorbike approaching shone on my face and I put a hand up to shade the glare, unable to make out who was riding. The bike came to a stop and a young man lifted up his visor and removed his helmet.

"Lachlan!" I exclaimed.

"Hiya, gorgeous-  ya gotta be Uma! Sorry I was away. Did I miss much?" He asked cheerily.

I laughed and shook my head. "Not much. It's good to meet you at last. I'm off in the morning. What a shame! I so much wanted to get to know you better."

He put his hands on his hips and looked at me with a smile on his face. " 'Bout time you asked me for a visit, I reckon. I think you and I could be good friends."

"Count on it, Lachlan. I will ask for you soon. Thanks for being so patient with me."

He shook my hand and grinned. "It's a virtue, love. One of my many. I'll show you them all when I visit. But I guarantee you one thing that we'll both be...lucky, and then lucky and maybe even... lucky again! Night, love, sweet dreams!"

I watched him stride through the house, whistling, his thick fringe flopping on his forehead. He is so adorable and I am glad he wasn't here this week. I want to meet Lachlan in private when I am better. And I will be lucky, lucky, lucky....

Ready for bed, I sat cross-legged with the phone in my hand, still unsure whether or not I had the courage to make the call. It was up to me. Someone has to start the negotiations. An offer must be put on the table. Surely he would understand the game?

My fingers shaking, I dialled the familiar number and waited for an answer, praying that he would not switch it off as soon as he saw my name. I checked my watch- the Reverso, his present to me- to work out the time where he was. It was ten o' clock here- one a.m. there. But he was not an early sleeper. Unless...Oh God, don't let me wake them or disturb them...

"Thorne." His voice shocked me and my mind went blank.

"Er...sorry if it's late."

"I was working. No worries."

"I ...um...I...er...I heard you are going to UK."

"Right."

"Me too."

"Yeah." A silence. " Is there a reason for your call, Uma?" He wasn't making it easy for me.

"I thought...Terry, we can't go on not talking to each other. I thought maybe we could get together and have a drink or a meal while you're in London. Sort things out. Surely we can be more civilised with each other? Make it easier for the others? They don't know what to say to us."

There was another longish pause. "Sort things out? What do you mean?"

"You know...talk...we have to talk...we haven't even decided what we will do about the list yet."

"Oh, the list. Yeah, sure. OK, let me check my diary...look, Uma, I need to keep some appointments free for important clients. Can I get back to you in London? Give me a ring then and I'll see when I can fit you in."

Free? Fit me in? Important clients? I felt the little bit of confidence I had oozing away.

"OK. I'll call you then. Is everything fine with you?"

"Yeah, great. And you?"

"Yeah, I had a great week at the temple."

"I'm sure you did." I detected a note of criticism. What did he expect me to do- join a convent?

"I did. Well, that's it then. Give my love to the one you're with..."

"OK...if you insist..."

"Goodnight, then. I'll call you in about a week?"

"You do that. Take care....No, wait...don't hang up..."

My heart lurched. What was this? Was he going to say something to show me how he really felt?

"You still there, Uma?"

"Yes, I am."

"Just a drink...dinner...you do understand that, don't you? There are others to consider now. I can't keep messing them about..."

I swallowed deep the bitter retort I wished to make. It would achieve no purpose. But I tasted bile.

"I said dinner or a drink. If I had meant something else then I would have said it. Don't worry. I won't mess anyone about. Just myself. Goodnight, Terry. God bless."

I hung up and curled up on the bed, fighting tears. And then it struck me like a flash of lightening, suddenly filling the gloom in stark brightness. I rolled back on the pillow and smiled, my hands above my head. I wasn't falling for that! I had put my bid on the table and he went for it in part, grudgingly maybe, but prepared to talk some more. Then, as he rang off, he hit me with a parting shot. The usual gambit in negotiations. Make the mark uneasy. Suggest you can take it or leave it. Don't let them bully you- be blasé. Get them on the run so they chase you for it.

So, we're negotiating are we, Terry Thorne? Think you know it all? Reckon you can play me for a sucker? I know your methods - I'm a woman, we've been using them since Eve. Watch your back, mate. You may just have met your match!