A figure steps down from the bus: Central Station - Barnbridge. She's a pretty girl, but she wears a dowdy print dress. In a style that was fashionable twenty years ago, now it makes the wearer look as though she is destined for spinsterhood or a life as a librarian.The girl looks around, her brilliant green eyes alight with excitement, darting here and there, picking out busy people, fashionable skirts and blouses, jeans cut low at the waist and tight at the thigh, and trendy sneakers in bright colours.Smiling delightedly, she sets out, following the crowds. A roadside stand is serving something that smells of sizzle and onions and she orders a large one, paying for it from a handful of notes curled up in a pocket. The stand owner raises a brow as he sees the money this young girl is carrying.She doesn't care. She's rich. She's never had so much money to spend. Seeing brightly lit windows and neon lights, she walks along, eating her burger. Nothing has ever tasted so good as

CHARLOTTEKirstie has half a sandwich left on her plate but seems to have lost her appetite for it. "He seems a nice guy, and he asked me out."But my mind is whirring....They know each other....Is she an old girlfriend?"Ben's not like us, Kirstie," says Michael. "He thinks that relationships consist of one man and one woman. He sees the world through a narrower lens than we do. If he's got any surprises coming, take it easy with him."Her head bobs, but her eyes rise to meet his. She looks blue. "I was already thinking the same thing. And that perhaps I'm not being fair to him."Michael sits back in his seat, heaving a sigh. "So, you're planning on breaking up with him?"She pokes the half-sandwich around the plate. "Erm.... I hadn't really gotten that far. But I think he expects things from me that...."Things like exclusivity..."That you're not willing to deliver?""Yes."The sandwich has stopped being food and is now just target practice for Kirstie's fo

He's not expecting much from the trip. One boring meeting after another. If he's lucky, they might sign the contract this time. More likely he'll have to come back a couple of times while they prevaricate and demand more details, extra costings, more projections.But he's a professional. And a professional keeps smiling as long as it's needed to get the job done.A drink....Then an early night with a good book, or maybe a movie.In the lounge, discreet music plays. A fire burns in the hearth. A pleasant environment."What can I get you, sir?" "Malt on the rocks, please."A bottle. The clink of ice cubes and the glass slides across to him. He sips, inhaling the vapours and feeling the chill burn hit the back of his throat.That's good....He tugs his tie open, undoes the top button of his shirt, then perching a hip onto a stool, turns to survey the room.At the other end of the bar is a woman. Pale silk and paler skin are crowned by auburn hair which highlights gol

Dear Davey, Stevie and Dad,I'm not sure if any of my other letters to you have reached you because I've not heard anything back from you. I don't really know where to begin except to say that I'm sorry that I left the way I did, and I wish I'd done it some other way. I hope that you're not still too mad at me. If you have had my other letters and you are still angry with me, please forgive me.And especially, I wanted to apologise that I stole your wallets. I have enclosed a money order for the amount I took. I sent it with the other letters too, but it was never cashed. I hope that makes it right.I'm doing fine now and I'm earning well. I have my own apartment. It's only a small one that I'm renting, but I'm saving up to buy my own place. If you are in the City at all, you could visit me. Or if you like, I could visit you. I'd love to come and see you.How are you all? How is Dad these days? Better, I hope? I miss him. I miss all of you.I'll keep this short now, but i

MICHAELLeaning back again the wall of the gym, arms folded, I watch Charlotte's demonstration.James, hands in pockets, watches too. "That's a lot of pink lycra," he comments."They're not just here to get fit and beautiful. They're here to be seen.""Who by?""Each other.""Mmmm...." He sucks in his cheeks.Charlotte's volunteer is the husband of one of her class members. Plucked from the group of men waiting to collect their wives at the end of the class, facing her, he looks uneasy. The other husbands watch from the side-lines."This is a basic move you can use," she's saying. "It's easy to remember and it works with your instincts."She cues her 'assailant' with a 'come-get-me' gesture. A bit uncertainly, he steps forward, arms outstretched, to be met by the heel of Charlotte's hand punching forward to his face. He lurches back, and if he had not been an innocent volunteer, would I'm sure, have been disabled by the follow-up kick towards his groin.Some of the