"So what's your husband like?" Charis Stein asked Annie as they had a coffee across the road from the children's school one morning.

Annie grinned ruefully and stirred her latte. "How long you got?"

Charis raised her eyebrows. "Let me guess. High achiever, alpha, dominant and an arrogant bastard. Close?"

"No. Well, yeah...but no. He's very...I don't know how to explain Terry. He's just different from other men. You could easily be fooled by him. He gives an impression..."

"Impression?"

"...That he's a high achiever, alpha, dominant, arrogant bastard. But that's just his good side..." Annie laughed.

Charis shook her head. "I'm finished with men. Sick to death of the modern male. Tried them young, old, my age, father figures, steady, wild, suitable, unsuitable and you know what? They're all shits. The best ones have been the guys I just had passionate affairs with. Then you move on. That's the best way. In my opinion."

The other woman shrugged, said nothing. What could you say? Everyone has their own experience. Maybe she had just struck lucky? Most marriages struggled these days against the tide of other temptations.

"You don't think so?" Charis asked.

"I don't know. My husband's a good man and I love him. I can't speak for others. I don't have much experience of men really."

"Really? He wasn't your first, was he?"

Annie giggled. "No! I'm not that naïve! But there weren't many. I've had three real relationships in my life; a couple of one night stands or short-lived things. The men I've loved were good to me. That's all I know..." She declined to mention the brutal rape she had once suffered. That hardly deserved to figure in the same breath.

Charis thought about that. "In my experience that's the exception. But then I hang with a group of women who are hardly atypical." She laughed. "I guess you've lived more conventionally than I have."

Annie wondered at the word conventional. There are different ways to judge that, she thought. Charis was a rich spoilt socialite who had no need to work. She had dabbled with several creative arts and many passing philosophies, gaining some success in the theatre world. Annie wondered if she was the type of person now referred to as a metro-sexual. She was certainly a jaded and opinionated spokeswoman for feminism anyway. But Annie liked her; Charis was very intelligent, amusing, lively - and surprisingly innocent in an odd way. She thought that there were answers to everything if she could just find them; that everything ultimately was black and white. Whatever she embraced, she did it with all her soul and completely rejected last week's life choice, ready to begin again on the latest craze. Annie wished it could be so easy for her.

"I don't know how conventional we really are. I can't say our life has been all suburban niceness. Not with my husband's career anyway," Annie observed. 

"What field is he in, this mystery man of yours?" Charis gave her a conspiratorial look.

"He's a negotiator." Annie replied, mentally framing the words in case Charis inquired further.

"Like the film?" Charis asked.

"The film?" Annie queried.

"The Negotiator. Samuel Jackson and Kevin Spacey...ya know?"

Annie shook her head. "Never heard of it. But that's what he does, anyway."

Charis laughed. "Beatrice told me he was a kidnapper. I kind of thought she had the wrong end of the stick on that one..."

Annie grabbed the excuse to change the subject. "Liam hasn't a clue. You never know what's going through his head. Very little mostly!" Annie giggled.

"He's a darling! Bea just adores him. She thinks he's very manly."

"Manly? Liam?" Annie snorted and almost spat out her coffee in amusement.

Charis burst out laughing. "I'm trying to raise a liberated daughter and you know what? She goes for the bad boys just like all the rest. Can't say I blame her. I'd grab Liam Thorne any day over some of those preppy little spoilt dicks in her class."

"You are a hypocrite, Charis Stein! You whine about macho men but you know you love 'em really."

The two women giggled. "I have to run. I'm in rehearsal at ten thirty. Look...how about a girls' night out? I'd really like to get to know you better!" Charis jumped up and began to collect her things.

"I'd love it," Annie sighed, "But I wouldn't know what to do with the children..."

"Let them sleep over with me. I have a great nanny. Bea would love it - Liam Thorne in his jammies under her roof - or is he too macho to wear them?"

Annie grinned. "You asked for it! I'd love to - and so would they. Call me. Soon!"

The call came in the next afternoon. Terry had returned early morning and didn't think his absence had been noted. After a shower and shave he had eaten and then crashed - he didn't wake up until his phone had disturbed him about two; the jarring tone of the metallic buzz made him wake with a jerk. Struggling to clear his mind from the dead sleep he'd been in, he shook himself and cursed. This was not the time to let his guard drop.

"Thorne."

"Good afternoon. We need to talk. You check out. Expect a further contact in fifteen minutes. Hotel lobby phones. Fifth one from the right. Don't be late."

He threw the covers back and jumped out naked. It took him three minutes to dress whilst calling the others to be on stand by. This could be immediate. He was wearing a device and would activate it in case he was forced to move immediately. They better not lose him. He couldn't carry a weapon, knowing full well he would be frisked, thought about a knife and then rejected the idea. If needs be he could pick a gun off one of their boys. Better not go looking for trouble. His deal was money. So be it.

Exiting the elevator at a rush, still straightening the collar of his open necked shirt, he caught the phone on its fourth ring. Exhaling slowly, unwilling to sound breathless, he answered.

"Yeah?"

"Car waiting beyond the fountain on the forecourt. Get in. Alone."

He grimaced and looked around. Who here was watching him? He saw Anders at the reception, his back turned towards him but he felt better. He would note what was going down and they would have the tracker to keep him in their sights.

As he strolled across the grand marble foyer towards the main door, he observed the shadow; a guy reading a newspaper on one of the well-upholstered couches suddenly put down his gripping read and fell in behind him. Terry smiled to himself at the amateur performance. They must have got their training off old spy films.

Out into the light and he slipped on his sunglasses. The car was a slick silver BMW with dark windows; a driver was leaning back on the door, smoking. Terry walked briskly over and got into the back, his shadow entered the front passenger seat; the driver tossed the butt end and slipped behind the wheel; they pulled smoothly away out of the grand forecourt and hit the busy traffic.

They drove across the city and then up into the higher ground ascending a lush  hill overlooking the city. The area was high-end residential, studded with mansions and fine houses. The car turned into a gateway that led to a famous orchid park and there they stopped. Terry stepped out and the driver indicated a small dilapidated wooden building. It appeared to have once been a house but its shabby, peeling exterior suggested that it was now kept as some sort of office or store.

Terry Thorne's casual demeanour belied the fact that he was carefully scanning the place for any sign of a hidden threat. The surrounding grounds seemed to be deserted and they were in easy reach of the orchid gardens; he had already observed a tourist bus offloading some foreign visitors. This was hardly a lonely spot. Certainly they didn't intend gunplay; his cover hadn't been blown. Or it didn't look like that so far anyway.

Sweat pricked on his skin in the humidity and he could almost smell the rising adrenalin oozing out of his pores. His heart was beating loud but still and  steady, blood pumped in his ears; he felt as if a part of him was taking over and slowing down his metabolism. His hearing seemed keener, his instincts alert and a studied calm possessed him. It was like being on a track staring down the lane waiting for the gun. Nothing else mattered now. This is what it had all been about. Everything you have ever done and learnt over years is about to be put to the test. A professional sets aside nerves, luck and fears of failure. There is only one possible outcome - the one you facilitate.

Inside the building, the heat was oppressive. The room had only the one source of air- the door- the windows were closed. A tired old table fan whirred, ineffectually stirring thick hot air about. There was a desk piled with files and boxes, a few wooden chairs and an old cane three-piece arranged around a low glass topped table.

A neat dark skinned Malay wearing a songkok but otherwise dressed in western clothes sat watching him from the old cane armchair. He appeared unremarkable - the kind of middle aged man who could be seen in every street of the city, quiet, respectful and non-confrontational. The only sign that this man was any different from his mediocre exterior was the expensive gold Rolex that he was wearing.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Thorne. I believe you have a business proposition for me?" Terry looked about him. They appeared to be alone.

"No search? No muscle?" Terry asked with a lazy grin.

"As you see, I trust you. Of course, you could be over-confident. I know you are not carrying a gun. However I am." He raised his hand and Terry saw that beneath the document he had on his knee there was a small handgun. "And I can use it to deadly effect. That is sufficient for me. For now." He indicated that Terry should sit across from him and the meeting began.

His name, he said, was Razali. Terry doubted it. He was business-like and to the point. Terry gave him an inventory of what he was able to supply, prices and time it would take to deliver. Razali asked several pertinent questions - he understood the subject well. Some bargaining took place. A deal was reached. Arrangements for delivery were hammered out. He could have been selling computer software, industrial hardware, ladies lingerie - not latest weaponry, rocket launchers, electronic components and bomb parts. So easy.

An hour later they were shaking hands and sharing a couple of cans of Coke, making polite small talk. It was so surreal and matter-of-fact that Terry had the urge to laugh. He restrained it and reminded himself what men like this mild-mannered Razali were capable of if they thought they had cause.

"Then we shall await your delivery..."

"Payment first...when the account clears the deposit, you get the bills of lading. As it were."

Razali nodded. "Make sure we do. I wouldn't like to have to prove to you how serious we are..."

Terry smiled. "Just get the fucking money in the right place and we are apples." He turned to leave and then spun on his heel. His sudden movement took the other man by surprise. Razali took a step backwards and looked momentarily alarmed. That was what he had hoped.

"One more thing. That isn't all we're selling. We've got the big one. The real stuff. But I'm not dealing with you or any more of the boy scouts to discuss that little honey. You get my drift?"

The other man did not reply but Terry knew full well he had understood the implications. The carrot was dangled. 

"Annie?" 

Annie had just opened the door to her apartment after taking the children to school and dashed to pick up the telephone that was ringing. Maybe Terry was calling. It has been a few days. Snagging the receiver she knew straight away. "Dino? She's started?"

"Yeah....Jesus fucking Christ, what do I do?"

Annie laughed. "Where are you?"

"Hospital. They flirted me out of the room while they do some shit to her..."

"Then you can stop worrying. Your bit is over. Just be on hand to give out TLC and moral support from now on in..."

"Hey, you fancy holding my hand?"

It was the first time that Dino had ever sounded like he was having difficulty coping. There was only one answer.

"Sure. Just hang on in there...I'm on my way..."

It was a long day. Dino and Mel had been there since the early hours of the morning already and it was mid-afternoon before Mel was finally taken down to the delivery suite. She was tired and weepy - but working hard. "Stay with me!" she gasped as they wheeled her down the corridor.

"I'll be in the waiting room. This is for you and Dino. There are enough faces in there without adding one more, sweetie," Annie replied, squeezing her hand.

"Please?" Her friend asked in a voice that Annie hardly recognised. It was so unlike Mel to reveal her fragile side. She looked across at Dino for permission and he smiled over. "Please. I think she needs as many friendly faces as she can get. I think I do, too."

For Annie it was an amazing moment in her life, despite her experience of her own two childbirths. She had never witnessed the miracle before, even if she had gone through it, and the sight of a woman, a woman that she had loved half her life, giving birth to the child of the man she loved so much was one of the most magical moments she had ever known.

When it is happening to you, you are in the zone and much of the event passes you by on a tide of pain, hormones and emotion. But to stand and watch so close and part of it all, was quite awesome. Although she tried to stay clear headed, simply holding Mel's hand and talking to her calmly, when it came to it and the little boy appeared, making his mark on the world with a loud wail, she just slithered to her knees and sobbed.

They all cried then and laughed and cried some more. Dino swept his son away and refused to hand him over. Mel said "That was the fucking pits! He's having the next one!" That was more like the old Mel. "My cunt is ruined. I shall have to enter a convent now and spend my life on my knees," she announced dramatically.

"I think not," Annie teased. "This little fella's got a temper. He'll demand round the clock attention. And that's just the Daddy I'm talking about..."

She left shortly after, promising to text Terry and bring the children the next day. It was time to leave the new family alone.

Dino caught her as she retrieved her coat and purse from the desk. "Hey, Annie...!"

"You should be with her!"

"They're doing something to her that will probably make my knees go. I just wanted to say...thanks. For being there. She hasn't really got anyone else, you know? Me neither. You're the only real family we've got. She needed a sister there. Never thought it would hit her like that..."

She rested a hand on his arm. "You don't have to explain. It's a time apart for a woman. Hits us all in different ways. You're her family now - you've all got someone. You, Mel and little Nathaniel. But I'm very proud to be part of it. It's better this way. Choosing your rellies, I mean..." She kissed him warmly. "You did good, mate. That's one helluva beautiful boy. I'm so proud of you both!"

Dino rested her back down and observed her. "You know, you sound more and more like him every day. Fortunately, however, the similarity is not reflected in your appearance, I'm relieved to say." They both smiled. He chucked her chin and stood back, his hands thrust in his pockets and a wide smile on his face. Suddenly he grew serious and looked at her. "How does a man walk away from all that? How can he risk it for any reason?"

Annie stroked his face. "Go and enjoy today. Everything else, leave until tomorrow. Life does go back to normal, Dino. Unfortunately the euphoria you're feeling now fades in time. You'll never forget the love you feel for that child but you can and will return to normal service..."

"Perhaps," he replied obliquely. Annie wondered then if oddly enough Dino might be the one who in the end managed to break away from it all. You never know how it hits you. Maybe that applied to men as well as women.

That evening the four men assembled in the hotel bar discussing dinner plans. Costello and Anders sauntered up together joining Thorne who was already sitting with a glass of beer reading.

"That a book?" Costello laughed. "You gay or something?"

Terry looked up slowly. "Are you really as stupid as you act?"

The younger man grinned and clicked his fingers at the waitress who was coming over with a glass bowl of nuts. "Couple of beers, love!" Terry frowned. He found Costello's manner patronizing and offensive.

The beer arrived and the men chatted for a while. Costello drank his down. "I'm off. Got a date. Met this Sheila the other night at that club. Christ, she was all over me like a rash. Can't get enough of me. These Asian babes are something else. They look so coy and in the sack they fuck like wild cats..."

Terry exhaled. "Do you ever shut up? Be careful. You think you should be forming relationships in the current climate?"

"Relationship? I just fucked her a couple of times. We hardly speak the same language...."

"I meant she might be endangered by contact with you. That ever crossed your sex-befuddled mind?"

Costello shrugged. "She's just a playmate, come on!"

"You saying you don't give a fuck if some bastard used her to get to you?"

"She might be a spy, boss." Costello put on a scared face. "Imagine that. Trying to get some secrets out of me when she's got my cock in her mouth...Jesus, get real..."

At that he walked off. Hewitt was crossing the foyer and caught up with him. Looked like they had a double date planned.

Terry watched them go, annoyance evident in his face.

"They're just kids," Will Anders observed. "They can't think further than the end of their dicks."

He smiled. "Yeah...but we need them to be able to see 'outside the box', as it were. You not worried he's going to fuck up big time?"

Anders shook his head. "No. There's more to him than meets the eye, Terry, surely you can see that?  This is about winding you up. He respects you but he's like that. He'll always push."

Terry shrugged. "I don't like his type."

"You don't have to like a man to work with him. Or to trust him either. You just need to know he'll watch your back. And he will."

"Maybe. Says in your dossier, you're married," Terry changed the subject deftly.

"Was. Separated. Don't know where she is."

"Thought you had a kid?" Terry asked.

"Yeah, thought I did too," he laughed wryly. "She walked out on me. Rebecca, my wife. I was away too much and she had 'needs', she said. I was a shit father. So she took up with some bastard and went up north. Christ knows what he does. Drifter if you ask me. Claims to be a musician. Took my little girl, Tara." The man's voice thickened and Terry saw the effort he took to control his emotions. "She's five. Haven't seen her in two years."

"Christ, I'm sorry. Bastard thing to happen. No chance of using the courts?"

"Gotta find her first. And I'm never bloody there. What's the fucking point, hey?" he lit up a cigarette and dragged deeply on it.

"The point is she's your daughter. She needs you as much as you need her. Believe me. Another bloke will never do."

Anders fixed his piercing blue eyes on Terry. "You got a daughter?"

He nodded. "Yeah. She's eight. A little lady. Drives me nuts. Like her mother," his voice softened as he smiled to himself. A sharp dart of guilt pricked at him. It felt like the worse kind of hypocrisy to speak of them like that in the full knowledge of what he'd been doing with another woman, what he planned to do again.

Anders grinned. "Yeah. Little girls. Something about them. Twist you inside out. You got a son too haven't you?"

"Two. One's grown. Still worry about him though. Just that it moves from 'will he break his neck doing something stupid on his bike' to 'will he break his neck doing something stupid in his car'. Or will I be a grandfather rather earlier than anyone planned..."

They both laughed at that. "The other one?"

"He's a little boy. Just seven. Reminds me of me at that age. Not a fucking thought running through his head that makes sense. Just wants to play all the time. Girls are different. Right from the get go. Their heads are wired differently. They have it all sussed. He never sees it coming," Terry smiled again. God, he loved those children. He had a sudden longing to hold them in his arms. To feel innocence again.

Just then Hsueh appeared, striding across the vaulted foyer in a soft mauve suit; he had been waiting for her. They had reserved a table in the famous Chinese restaurant Lai Po Heen in this hotel. His expression must have changed for Anders looked around following his line of vision. "Excuse me, Will. Gotta go..."

Will Anders tilted his head about to say something but Thorne had already moved off, leaving the book he had been reading on the table in front of him. He crossed the space between them quickly and greeted the beautiful woman with a kiss. Not a polite peck on the cheek but a lover's kiss. She brushed back his hair and smiled into his eyes as he took her hand in his and led her to the elevators.

Rubbing his hand on his chin, he shook his head. What the fuck was this? Thorne had been seeing this woman? Doing exactly what he said they shouldn't - make relationships? Or was he holding out on them again? Who the fuck knew what game he was really playing? But one thing was for sure. That crap about the wife and kids. He'd nearly fallen for it. Swearing under his breath, he picked up the abandoned novel and read the title: Memoirs of a Geisha. Hardly the sort of book you could imagine a man like Terry Thorne having much interest in. He returned it to the reception with a message to take it up to Mr. Thorne's room and made his way out of the hotel into the night.

Annie arrived at the beautiful apartment on a block facing the park. This was old money, she knew that right away. The children piled out of the elevator and along the corridor eagerly looking forward to their sleepover. Apparently there were to be a few children there; most of Charis' friends were single mothers; she had thought the girl's night out might double as a bit of an adventure for the kids. Liam was relieved - he was not to be the only boy there. He had informed his mother that there was a boy called Jaspar and another girl whose name he had naturally forgotten.

A maid opened the door and they entered the huge apartment filled with antiques and art on the walls that Annie knew was original - no prints from the gallery here. In the large opulent lounge were the three other children and their mothers along with Charis; the women were sipping champagne

"Anna! Fantastic! Now we're all here! Have some bubbly." The maid handed her a flute and she sat down, glad that she had dressed up in such company. Charis did the introduction and for once Liam did the right thing and shook hands, saying "How do you do" without being forced. Greta, Jasper's mother, was a voluptuous Italian woman with masses of jet black hair and an impressive chest balanced on impossibly tiny hips and thin legs; she made Annie feel plain in her little black cocktail dress. At least she had a silk wrap of many colours to set it off. Greta was swathed in a tight white dress with gold accessories and masses of jewellery; she was so glamorous that she could have stepped off the pages of Harpers.

The other woman was completely different. She was very beautiful and petite with shiny golden straight hair with a plaited scarf tied around it in an ethnic fashion. Her outfit was rather wacky; a diaphanous skirt in pastel shades, almost like a ballerina's, topped with a pale blue suede waistcoat. Her shoes were little flat ballet pumps like a child might wear. In fact he was so skinny that she could have probably fitted into a child's size of clothes. Annie smirked to herself that the woman's chest was almost completely flat - it made her feel quite womanly for a change. This woman looked like  a hippy with a bit of expensive fairy dust sprinkled over her. But, hey, this was New York. What did she expect?

Charis chattered on and the atmosphere, fuelled by champagne, soon loosened up and Annie was quickly caught up in a conversation about opera. It seemed Greta was a soprano at the Met. From time to time, she realized that the other woman, Alice Pienkowicz, was looking at her with an odd expression. It was strange but Annie too felt that she had seen her before but she couldn't for the life of her work out where that might be. Perhaps years ago when she had occasionally visited New York with Terry when the children were small?

They had a table booked in a restaurant at nine and decided to go and have a cocktail first in a very swish bar nearby that everyone was talking about. Kissing the children and getting assurances from them that they would behave, they got ready to leave. Annie went back to the lounge to retrieve her purse and was surprised to see Liam chatting to Alice. He wasn't much of a one for small talk with adults, unlike his sister. He was both too shy and too boisterous all at the same time. But here he was smiling and answering politely.

Alice saw Annie watching, said goodnight to Liam who came over and gave her a hug before running out after the others.

"He's a cute little boy. Great eyes," Alice said watching him go. "I always wanted a son."

"You just have the one child?"

"Yes. My daughter. She's eleven." They moved off out to join the others.

Toting their Cosmopolitans in this unbelievably classy bar surrounded by the beautiful people, Charis making amusing observations about how she only drank the damn stuff to stave off cystitis, Annie realized how long it had been since she had had a social life to speak of. Even in Canberra they hadn't gone out much apart from to dinner and the cinema. There was always the problem of baby sitting and Terry wasn't very interested in schmoozing in trendy bars or nightclubs. He did enough of that in the day job; when he got home he preferred lying around the pool or goofing about with the kids. The last time she had really done this scene had been when she had been seeing Brad...

"So...now we have you alone and nicely juiced up...tell us about this perfect husband of yours. Girls, Anna has a man -to whom she has been married forever, I might add -who is the exception that proves the rule. He is however inexplicably overseas. Which might be the reason why he is so perfect, come to think of it. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know?" The others giggled at her - they were all divorced.

"Come on Charis, don't make me feel like a freak!" Annie groaned. "Do I have to get divorced to prove my credibility as a sister?"

"Photographic evidence! We want proof! Otherwise we won't believe a word you say...he may be entirely a figment of your imagination!"

"Yes....proof," Alice said in a curious tone. "Proof of life shall we call it?"

With a shrug, Annie rooted in her wallet and pulled out two snaps. One had been taken with Harry at the passing out and the other later that same day by Harry of the four of them. They were the most recent photographs she had - the last time she had seen him, in fact. Annie glanced over them and her thumb absentmindedly stroked Terry's face. He had arrived back having shaved off his beard ready for the warmer climes. After eight weeks in intensive training, he had lost weight and toned up and had looked bloody gorgeous. Too good to be real, she smiled as she passed it over.

"OH MY GOD!" Charis screeched dramatically. "YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS! You are married to this hunk? Jesus Christ! And who's the toy boy...I could do either of them in an instant. Together even ---be still my beating heart...!!!"

Annie giggled. "The blond is my stepson, Terry's eldest boy. He'd do you as well Charis. The boy's insatiable..."

The picture was passed round the group, Greta whooping and letting out a stream of rapid Italian. "I understand why you don't let him go! My God, che bello!"

Alice took the picture and her mouth fell open. "Jesus Christ! Terry...Henry...!" The women turned and stared. Annie frowned and then the penny dropped. Alice. How could she have been so stupid! Alice Pienkowicz was Alice Bowman.

Alice looked at Annie and the two women recognised it at once. Then they simply stared openmouthed, Alice with that dopey expression of a startled Bambi that had so irritated Annie when they had first met almost ten years ago. On a very fateful day.

Charis and Greta exchanged glances. It was patently clear to them that there was some shared history here.

"You're that English girl...Jesus Christ...you married him? That boy is his son? I just knew I knew you from somewhere...I just knew it..."

Annie squared her shoulders and raised her chin. She had picked up a few mannerisms over the years when she was going into battle. "And you are the American woman who turned up and screwed his head up again. How could I forget?"

The sisterly atmosphere was replaced by a frosty chill in an instant. Charis hunched her shoulders. "Hey, girls...come on... old news....let's not spoil the night?"

Alice stood up and excused herself. "I need the bathroom." She strutted out, breaking into a run when she was nearing the door. Charis went after her. Greta looked embarrassed.

"Look, I'm sorry, Greta..."

"She's emotional. I think I know of this man. She spoke of him once. The only man she ever loved. You must understand how hard this is for her..."

Annie put her head in her hands. "And it's easy for me? You don't know the half of it, Greta..."

"She went to him and he turned her down after she left her husband. He broke up her marriage..."

"That is not the full story..."

"I suppose he's told you his version..."

"I suppose she's told you hers..."

The two women faced each other and Greta shrugged. "You won, she lost. You have nothing to complain about..."

"I wasn't complaining. I just have unhappy memories of the last time I met her. Somewhat worse than hers, whatever you may think..." The day she had met Alice Bowman, she had had an almighty row with Terry, stormed out of a nightclub and been kidnapped by some of his enemies. The subsequent days were still shadowy nightmarish terrors that she had learnt to control - but that she knew would never go away. Forgive me, Alice Bowman, she thought, if I refuse to let your imagined heartbreak take precedence over what I have suffered.

Charis came out. "She's just repairing her face. She'll be all right. Just a bad old memory." Alice emerged and rejoined them. Annie stood up.

"I think this is bad idea. I'll go home if you don't mind. Is it OK if I leave the children until the morning? They'd hate it if I pulled them out now..."

"Anna...please...!"

"You three have a good night. I'll catch you later, Charis. If I could have my photographs back, please..." Alice had not returned them. She opened her purse and pulled them out, throwing them over to her with a dismissive air. "Thank you. They are the last pictures of my husband I have. He's been away for three months. You think you've had it hard? Baby, you don't even know the half of it..."

With that she stormed out and flagged down a cab to return home alone. 

"You seem distracted. Is everything alright?" Hsueh reached over and took his hand as they finished their meal.

"Yeah...just a few business problems. I'm a bit tense tonight," Terry forced a smile. This whole scene was bothering him. It felt so - real - to be here with her. So comfortable and --- it felt like a relationship already. How could it be like this? He was a married man with a family and yet, sitting across from this woman, it was as if his other world did not exist. It would be so easy to hand himself over to this - and what bothered him more was the thought that she wanted it too.

"Then we need to relax you. I have just the thing..." Hsueh lowered her lashes and smiled demurely.

"Just the thing? What are you planning?" He pushed the thoughts away and turned his attention on her

"It's a surprise..." she mouthed as the waiter cleared the table and asked if they wanted dessert. He looked at her and she shook her head, her eyes catching his as her foot massaged his groin beneath the table. "Bill, please," he asked receiving her grin in response.

They strolled out of the restaurant hand in hand. "Your place or mine?" Terry asked, nuzzling against her ear.

"This is your place. Why waste time?" 

It was foolish in the extreme to bring a woman back, but he shrugged the thought away. No one had seen them go up - it was only a few floors above the restaurant and they could slip up unremarked. So they did.

Back in the suite he opened a bottle of white wine and took off his jacket and tie, rolling up his shirt sleeves and kicking off his shoes. Hsueh slipped from her dress and kneeling behind him on the couch, stripped off his shirt and massaged his neck and shoulders with an impressive skill. He moaned soft and low and felt the day easing from him. "You're tired. You should sleep," she whispered.

"Later...first you..."he murmured.

"No. Rest is important for strength. But there are different ways of recharging your batteries. Do you know the meaning of the word qi?" Hsueh asked.

"Isn't that the power within? The inner breath. Life force?" Terry replied.

Hsueh agreed. "Yes, but it has different forms. I need to give you a little history lesson while I ease your muscles. Come...strip and lie on the bed. I have some oil..."

He pulled off his trousers and briefs and lay as she had told him. She climbed onto his back, straddling him in her pale pink silk lingerie, poured the fragrant oil onto his shoulders and back manipulating the tense muscles. "There was once an emperor called Huang Ti. He is known in the West as the Yellow Emperor. His most important function was the seeding of the wombs of his nine secondary wives and most especially the empress. His doctors and philosophers wrote a handbook for him to explain their theories of the health and wellbeing required of him to live a long life and produce many children..."

"He had his hands full there with ten women...lucky bastard," Terry grinned into the pillow.

"No talking!" Hsueh giggled and slapped his butt playfully. "This is serious! Huang Ti did not merely have ten wives. He also had one hundred concubines and nymphs who were vital to the development of his inner qi. Now, their function was to enable him to retain and empower his qi. In ancient beliefs the two great forces in the universe are Yin and Yang. They are opposite and constantly warring each to outdo the other. Yang is male and Yin is female. Harmony, peace, good health, happiness can only result from the proper balance of these two forces. So, just as in nature this situation must be effected, so in sexuality we must strive to equalize the yin and yang so that neither dominates the other for the sexual wellbeing of both. Yin sexual energy is very powerful and a man must learn to harness it to strengthen his potential. Likewise Yang energy is vital for the inner harmony of a woman or she will suffer from cold womb, vaginal disorders and painful menstruation..."

"Is this going anywhere, Hsueh?" He turned back and gave her a wink "Because my Yang is getting a bit impatient here..."

"Silence! I shall return to the concubines. They were there to provide the emperor with a fertile ground for him to strengthen his Yang. 'All life embodies yin and embraces yang, through their union achieving harmony'. Women are multi-orgasmic but men do not realise that they are, too. The secret is to shift from the obsession with genital orgasm to the achievement of whole body orgasm, stopping ejaculation and recycling its powerful energy inwards to open up the qi channels. Only then when this state has been reached should a man ejaculate. The retention of semen also slows down a man's fiery nature so that he stays in closer harmony with his woman's slower cycle of arousal..."

All through this lecture, enunciated in her mellifluous tones, she had worked his muscles and, despite his occasional amused comments, he was listening and he found the conversation arousing in an odd way. She was slowing him down, relaxing him, leading him somewhere and he knew that this anticipation would be rewarded with something he had not yet managed to imagine. An alluring prospect. Some sexual practice that he had never tried before.

"There were many exercises and a great deal of physical training of which I shall tell you some other night, but the most important function of the concubines was to enable the emperor to "Drink of the Jade Fountain." Each night he would receive nine women and he would have sex with all, bring each to orgasm but only ejaculate when this was completed. The women would pass their Yin essence to him from their orgasmic fluid - he would drink of them. Oral sex was a very powerful source of Yin for a man. Then he would penetrate them and receive even more Yin through his penis, lost only when he finally ejaculated. Thus his qi was strengthened and after 13 nights of this preparation, he would impregnate one of his wives and it was believed that a male heir would be the result. Through all this he was bestowing sexual health and wellbeing, not to mention satisfaction, on a vast number of women as well as himself. Harmony indeed. Tonight I want you to drink of the Jade fountain and open our qi channels. The aim is total body orgasm."

At that she raised herself from him and sat back. He turned with an amused and curious expression on his face.

"Yeah? So how do I do that? Tie a knot in it? Cos, darlin', I'm halfway there already..." He grinned and looked down at his rising cock. She smiled knowingly.

"Come...off the bed....sit down on the floor...."

Tentatively he followed her and did as she asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor  as she indicated. Hsueh sat behind him so that her back touched his and she hooked her arms though his to incapacitate their hands. "Lesson one. Tonight we will learn how to stimulate each other by word of mouth only, enhanced by the pressure of flesh and the sight of only our own sex. This is masturbation of the mind. Do you think you can experience orgasm this way?"

Terry sat quiet and thought. It was a scary thought. Could he let her talk him into orgasm? Talk himself into it? Like a young boy who comes almost as soon as he thinks about it in his sleep? Suddenly he thought about Liam. He was too young for wet dreams but he had often found him sporting an erection when he went to tuck him in at night. He always wondered what triggered that response in a boy with no apparent sexual interest. But pleasure and arousal had many forms. Did he want to know his weaknesses?

"You didn't answer me, Terry."

"I don't know what the answer is. If I come, I'll feel pretty helpless. If I don't does that mean I win? That I'm some sort of Stoic?"

He heard her soft laugh. "I want you to come. I want to come. This is lesson one. Tonight we are not trying to impede your ejaculation. Just achieve it through another means. Learn to control your ability to take pleasure and shift it from the traditional oral or manual stimulation to the infinite possibilities of our minds..."

He took a deep breath. "How does it work?"

"Describe your cock to me as it looks now....as it feels now...how the sensation of your rising arousal feels..."

He swallowed hard. "I'm hard."

"Describe it.  As you would describe something in your field of expertise. You are an observant man. You are a clever man. You use your words with skill. Now turn them onto yourself..."

He breathed out and started again. "My cock is erect. It is a large cock, about eight inches long when fully erect - and thick. Some women find it a little intimidating at first sight. I think it is the girth that bothers them most." He paused feeling awkward to be speaking out loud of these things. He had never actually put this in quite these terms before except in his own head. Even when he had talked with a lover during sex, it hadn't been phrased quite like this. Annie made appreciative noises or exclamations or made jokes about it but he had never sat down and told her about how he perceived his own penis.

"It is red now, full of blood, the head mushroom-shaped and a darker shade, almost purple. It looks angry, maybe even a little threatening...it isn't a pretty sight to me. But I enjoy the sight of it. It makes me feel virile. Somehow it empowers me. Confirms my sense of my maleness and my ..." he stopped then, but forced himself to go on... "my primacy over a woman. I know I shouldn't feel like that, but I do. I think all men do somewhere inside. I accept a woman's equality but in my head I am still a man and that makes me dominant. Jesus...that's a fucking terrible thing to admit..."

Hsueh stopped him. "That is honesty. That is your sexual identity speaking. Your Yang. It is not how your cerebral identity perceives it. Continue..."

"I'm uncut. Like my son. I wouldn't allow it for him. It seems wrong to mutilate a part of your body out of some notion of hygiene or appearance. I keep myself clean. I teach him to. I like the sensation of my skin, I like to pull it back and run fresh water over the naked head and then slide it down again. I wonder if a man who is cut loses out? I don't know.  Not something I could discuss with even my best mate, is it now? And he was cut as a baby. So he wouldn't have any idea..."

He felt her lean in against his back and wondered if she was feeling aroused by his speech. It gave him the desire to go on. His deep voice spoke low as he described himself.

"I am straight. Point right up. Can look myself in the eye. My balls are resting on the floor. The skin is darker and less reddened, more like a plum shade. My hair is brown, a little darker than my head, doesn't see the sun so much...it curls. I'm not particularly hairy for a man but my groin is thickly covered. My sac is furred with hair. It's a pleasant sensation to hold it and manipulate my balls, feel the wrinkled texture and the coarse hair. If I pinch that place just beneath I can slow down my orgasm. I want to touch it now. I feel vulnerable. The heat is building and I want it to stop..."

Hsueh was breathing a little heavily. "What does it feel like when you know...?"

"That I'm going to come? It feels...there's heat....the sensation of coursing... surging... I want to...I don't know how to say it...I want to..." he closed his eyes and listened to his body. "I want to move, thrust...I find this stillness almost painful...I want to touch myself or have someone touch me...I need friction....my body is crying out..." He bit his lip. It was like the brink of orgasm but he knew he would not be able to proceed without some manual help. "My balls are beginning to ache....I can see them drawing up. I'm trying to relax them but each time they move down they pull up again. My body is full of tension...it's beginning to radiate out all through me..."

"You see? Your qi. You are allowing that yang to flood through you..."

"But it doesn't make me feel better..."

"It doesn't -yet. This is the moment when you have to deny yourself. Draw back and let the power strengthen you..." 

"Talk to me...talk to me...make me come..." he asked her.

"Do you think I could?"

"Yeah...Tell me what you do to me..."

Hsueh shuffled closer. She closed her eyes "Look down at yourself. I can see you in my mind's eye. Your legs are crossed. You have beautiful legs for a man, you know? Straight and well shaped. Your thighs are powerful. There is thick hair of a golden brown shade on your legs. I see your genitals exposed and unprotected. Without your hands you are somehow vulnerable. It is a crude position even for a man to sit with his legs wide and nothing covering him. Your cock fascinates me, it is larger than any I have known and that it fits within me intrigues me. It tastes so good. It feels so good for me to wrap my tiny hand around its strength and then jerk you. You are such formidable man - so big and strong and yet when I hold you there, you are in my hands. You trust me not to hurt you..."

He watched in fascination as his cock surged while her soft voice droned on. It seemed to grow bigger even to him. It was hard not to groan out loud. She was getting to him. The thought of her thinking these things, speaking them to him was raising his level of erotic excitement. He hadn't thought that possible.

"My lips lower to savour; I smell you. You are clean but still a man; there is a musk between your legs caused by warmth and sweat and your natural scent. It is not easy to define but it is uniquely you. Your lover recognises it and is aroused further to do things that might not be nice or proper in a conventional sense. Restraint is loosened. I lick the tip and milk the first drops of your semen as it trickles out - it is full of your essence, rich and ripe but not yet full of your seed - but even now some potency is there..." He stopped a moment and remembered that he was no longer potent. He had had a vasectomy. He wondered idly if that was counterproductive to this experiment. It had made him slower to reach orgasm; Annie had remarked on it too. They had both seen that as a pretty neat side effect.

Annie. The building urge suddenly eased and his cock subsided slightly. Even the thought of her somewhere in his subconscious was enough to deflate his lust. Dear God what was he doing here?

"Terry? Terry?" Hsueh had felt the tensing in his back and a change in his demeanour.

"I can't do this..." he began to pull his arms from their interlock.

"No...stay....a little while longer. Please..."

"I am not going to do this!" He pulled away and ran his hands down his face. She turned and slipped her arms round his shoulders. "What is it? What did I do?"

He breathed slowly a few times. "I want to make love to you. I need that. I don't like to lose control..."

"But that is what you need, isn't it? It is what you most fear and you most desire!" Her words struck him like a dart. She was so right. To hand it all over. Not to be the one in charge anymore. To lie there and let her do what she wanted with him and for it all to be alright.

He turned round and pushed her back, lust rising in him and an edge of anger and aggression. His response to anyone who got near enough to read inside. Holding her down at the hip with one hand, he thrust her legs apart with his knee. She was very aroused, no doubt as a result of the interlude, and he penetrated her with little care. She cried out and struggled slightly but he used his weight to stop her and then thrust deep. Her nails dragged down his back and he welcomed the pain. It drove him on. This he could cope with. This was what he understood. On and on he pounded, aware in some part of him that she was probably hurting but that she was also orgasmic. It wasn't a pleasant thought but he was too far along to do anything else. She had unleashed parts of him that he even feared himself.

With a deep groan he came and juddered into her. They both felt to the carpet, moaning and panting. For a long time, neither spoke. Until:

"I failed that, didn't I? Bottom of the class in Tantric Sex 101..." His comment, although playful, was said with a bitter tone.

She rolled onto her side to look at him. "There is no pass or fail. Each stage is the catharsis that you need..."

"Bollocks. What about you? You got no needs?" He muttered and stood up, striding to the cupboard, snagging a cigarette from a packet and lighting up. Hsueh followed him and took the cigarette from his mouth to drag on it herself.

"Of course I have needs. And you service them well. Don't you know what that felt like? To be at your mercy when you let yourself go?"

"Forgive me, if I think that somewhat worrying...that a woman should find anything pleasurable in that little fiasco..." he spat out.

Hsueh stroked his arm, felt the contour of his large bicep and kissed it. "You have so much to learn about women and what they really want. You are too honourable a man and have allowed that sense of honour to obscure your sexuality. What two lovers do together in their self-discovery is not the same as other forms of sexual behaviour. You need to learn to separate the two..."

"Is that what we are? Lovers?" Terry asked bluntly.

Hsueh shrugged. "What else would you call us?"

"Jesus Christ...I don't know what I want, Hsueh...but I don't want to hurt you..."

"You didn't. Not in the way you mean. I may be a little sore..." she grinned and he smiled sheepishly. "Come...shower...then you need to sleep. I shall watch over you..."

He thought he wouldn't sleep he felt so wound up, but as she held him and stroked his hair he found himself slipping seamlessly into oblivion. Hsueh stayed like that until he was deeply asleep and then wriggled out of his arms. She put on a bathrobe and poured herself a drink, deep in thought, sitting in an armchair curled up.

His desk was next to her with his laptop in its case. She flicked the levers but it was locked. His phone was lying next to it;- It was switched on but when she tried to press the menu, the display simply froze on her. Strange. She hadn't seen the model or any cell phone that functioned like that before.

A drawer was slightly open and she eased it further. Two pieces of paper were on the top of the contents and they immediately caught her interest. They were drawings done by children. Walking over to the window to catch some light from outside she read: Goodbye, Daddy, I will miss you. Take care and be home soon! Zoexxxx'  There was a picture of a plane and a man waving from the tarmac.  The other drawing had a rugby player running with a ball. 'Miss you, Dad. Liam.'

Hsueh gasped and went back to the drawer. Inside there was a leather photograph wallet with a few pictures. A beautiful dark haired woman, two children and Terry...

"Not married, hey?" Hsueh muttered to herself as she replaced the objects into the drawer. She swore in her own language.

Finding her clothes, she dressed quietly and slipped out of the room, leaving him fast asleep.

The cab pulled up outside her apartment block and Annie jumped out. She felt forlorn and didn't want to go back to the empty apartment. All alone in the big city. It was a very long time since she had had that sensation of isolation amongst others. With a sigh, she pulled her wrap closer around her shoulders and walked towards the door of her apartment block. The commissionaire greeted her and held open the door and she stepped in - right into the path of Amiruddin al-Bakhti who was leaving the building, dressed casual smart in soft fine wool black trousers and a white cashmere sweater beneath an expensive leather jacket.

"Gosh, Amri...I nearly stepped on you!" Annie gasped.

He smiled. "You were dreaming. Miles away. Just coming home? Where are the little ones?"

"Sleepover. I had a date with some girlfriends for dinner..."

"Back so soon?" He looked at his watch. It was barely eight thirty.

Annie shrugged. "Bit of a misunderstanding. I left before dinner, I'm afraid..."

He looked surprised. "But that means you haven't eaten? I'm just off out to get something. I would be honoured if you would join me..."

Annie winced inwardly. Bloody hell, she had given him that one on a plate. "I'm sorry, Amri, but....I'm afraid I can't...sorry..."

He looked disappointed. "Have I done something to annoy you, Anna? You seem to be avoiding me these days. You leave the gym if I arrive, you pretend not to notice me on the street..."

"It's not that...look, Amri...I'm a married woman. My husband...well, I mentioned you and he wasn't pleased about it. I know you mean no harm but..."

"Ahhh! I see. He thinks that I was trying to...I can understand. Any man would feel concerned if he was away and his wife spoke of another man. A younger man. I would react the same way no doubt."

Annie breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks for being so understanding.  I wasn't trying to imply that you had acted out of turn..."

"No offence taken. But you still need to eat. There is a Moroccan restaurant a few blocks away. It is rather good and very public. I promise my motives are purely honourable. Not to have to eat alone again - that is all. Would it be so very bad to join me?"

She stopped and thought. What possible harm was there? She was so bloody bored and the thought of the apartment without the children.... "Yes...that would be very kind of you. Thank you for the invitation..."

Dinner was good and so was the conversation. Amri was urbane and well traveled, a rich man's son with all the grooming that went with his privileged position. They spoke of literature, culture, politics - it was a refreshing change to engage in intelligent conversation with an informed man again.

Over tiny cups of rich black coffee, the chat turned to more personal matters. "No girlfriend, Amri? It strikes me you would be a very eligible bachelor on most continents!"

He smiled and stirred sugar into his cup. "I am...not without some female companions...there are a few women whom I see regularly. We are friends but...they are not the sort of women I would bring home to father, if you understand? Not that they are in anyway disreputable, of course, merely that....they are modern women. American girls. They are independent and assertive and take their pleasures as freely as men. It would be difficult to imagine them within a Persian household, even one such as my own..."

"They wouldn't be marrying your family. You must choose for yourself, Amri!" Annie reminded him.

"I know this. I also know that my veneer of western male does not run very deep. I myself wish for something else. I'm not sure what. But I suspect that inside I am very conservative and traditional."

"You want to marry a virgin who will defer to you and do as she is told...? Annie teased.

"No...I do not want a virgin...well, I have no objections to one." He blushed. "....What I mean to say is, I want a woman who is strong and steadfast and who knows the value of what matters in life. So many of these women seem to see life as a battle of the sexes, instead of a partnership between them. I am more than just a body to give them sexual pleasure. And a woman should be more than that to me..."

Annie smiled and he flushed slightly. "Forgive me, that was very crude of me to..."

"Come on, Amri, I'm a grown woman. I know what you mean. How old are you?"

"Twenty eight."

Annie sighed. "When I was twenty eight I was also at a crossroads. You look around and suddenly you're not a kid anymore. It begins to slip away from you. You wonder have you missed the boat? It's a dangerous age..."

"How old were you when you met your husband?" He asked.

She pulled a wry face. "Twenty eight!" They both laughed.

"Then you met him just as you needed to move on. How long have you been together?"

"Ten years. Long time, I suppose, to a young man like you. Doesn't seem a long time to me, though. I'm still learning about him..."

"You are very much in love with him?"

Annie played with her napkin. "Yes. Very much."

"It must be hard to be alone so much. What does he do?" The question.

"He's a consultant. Has to travel a lot. Connected to insurance..."

"Liam said he rescued kidnapped people. I presumed that meant a negotiator. Those careers are very demanding, protracted discussions, can be months..."

Annie caught her breath. Why had he been talking about this to her son? "You seem to know a lot about this, Amri..." There was suspicion in her voice.

"Unfortunately I do, from both personal and business experience. I'm an international banker. It is often people in my field who are taken for ransom. And I have family members who have been pawns in the political game back home..."

"I'm sorry. I should have realized. Yes, that is his field. I don't usually discuss it. People don't generally know about it and he likes to keep it that way."

Amri bowed his head. "Then we say no more about it. My apologies for bringing the topic up. Would you like another drink? I am not a very good Muslim, I'm afriad. I do drink alcohol from time to time if you would like a liqueur or a cocktail somewhere else?"

Annie checked her watch. It was after eleven. Where had the time gone?

"No...it's late and I had better go home. Thank you for this lovely evening. I was so in need of it."

"My pleasure!" He settled the check and they left, He was courteous in his manner, slipping the wrap around her shoulders and guiding her out onto the street. They strolled back home in the mild spring air, chatting softly, his hands in his pockets and watching her thoughtfully. Across from their apartment building, he took her hand and led her to the other side. She noted it in passing. It didn't seem like an intrusion but just the action of a gentleman, the sort of thing Terry would do without thinking, another natural man who took the lead. She liked that in a man.

In the elevator, she tapped out her floor code and they stood side by side as the lift shot up smoothly. As the door parted, she turned to say goodnight but, to her surprise, he kissed her. It was gentle and closed mouth but it was a kiss on her lips and quite beyond any level of intimacy than was appropriate. She backed away and raised her hand to her lips.

"I am sorry. I have wanted to do that all night. Your husband is right. My interest in you is not so innocent..." He looked down at the ground and then back at her, eyes pleading. "I am very attracted to you. You are a very special woman..."

Annie trembled, still shocked. "I...this is so wrong, Amri. It isn't about you. I am very fond of you. You are a beautiful young man and I am very flattered that you see something in me that resonates with you. But I cannot betray my husband. I will not betray him. I don't even want to, no matter who the man is or what he can offer me. Do you understand that?" She wondered if that was the right thing to say. Her position alone in this secured building with its locks and bolts suddenly became like a prison to her. How would she escape if he tried anything on?

Amri inclined his head. "Had you said anything else then you would not be the woman that I believe you to be. My behaviour was despicable. Please, forgive me. I will never impose it on you again..." He was genuinely contrite and she relaxed. This was simply a young man who had got a bit of a crush on her but who would never dream of overstepping the marks of decent behaviour.

Annie placed a hand on his face and raised it to her. "There is nothing wrong with feeling emotion and even expressing it. Honesty is never wrong. We are friends and I need friends. But we can never be more than that. Never, ever lovers. If that is too hard then I understand. Think about it. But thank you for dinner, I had a wonderful time - and goodnight, Amri."

She stepped out of the elevator and heard the doors glide silently closed: it moved up to his floor. Still shaking, she fumbled for her key card and gained the relative safety of her apartment.

It was dark and silent and lonely within. Her husband was across the world, involved in God knows what. Her children were across the city. She shivered. All she wanted was them all back here under her roof.

And the touch of a man. She also longed for that too. His offer had been harder to refuse than she cared admit to herself.