“Who shall we be?” Edna continued.“Mr and Mrs Mellors,” I said. We had talked a lot about books and shared a love of Lady Chatterley's Lover.�...�Don't they want to see ID these days?” Edna asked.“If they do, we'll be Mr and Mrs me, if you like,” I suggested.“I would like that,” she said happily. “But between ourselves, we can be Oliver and Constance.” She paused for a second, then spoke again.“Let's walk along the promenade. I know you've got to spend your last evening with your Mum, but let's. Very nice she said, the agency has done well for me. Would you like a glass of wine? I drank my glass of what was actually a very nice wine slowly, and hadn't yet finished it before she said it was time to go to the dinner.Anyway, the dinner went fine, it was the usual corporate fare, but during the dinner I felt her hand on my knee a couple of times. I didn't mind, I was her arm candy after all, and once reiprocated (and she smiled), but she brushed my hand away as if to say, don't do that. More

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