A fragment of memory came to her just then, of Charles’s birthday all those years ago. His parents had thrown a lavish bash at their country mansion...in his honour, and invited journalists from the Tatler for good measure. There was a marquee in the garden, a string quartet of musicians playing in the Victorian bandstand, and the flower beds were in full bloom. Tuxedo-clad staff wandered through the clumps of guests with silver trays of triangular sandwiches- cucumber, cress and Italian ham- and. J. manhandle her tits, she feels like a cheap whore being passed from one stud to the next and is surprised to find herself thoroughly enjoying the feeling. She looks deeply into the stud’s eyes as her hands rapidly undo his jean shorts, the look on her face still intense and unsmiling. No matter how much she enjoys what’s about to happen tonight, she considers it absolutely vital to not let J.J. know that she’s enjoying it. The stud says nothing in response; he returns Jen’s gaze, a self. More

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