I glared at Tara and she went back to grilling the ham steaks.“So anyway, I figured dressing Angie couldn’t be much harder than dressing Savannah....All I had to do was pick a nice outfit and help her put it on. It sounded so easy.”Tara and I both laughed. We didn’t laugh meanly, but we did laugh. Mum’s training about not laughing only protected Angie, not our friends – or each other. Liz pouted at us.“You told her she couldn’t wear her purple shoes, didn’t you?” I asked.“Yeah,” she admitted, not. “Take your clothes off and come with me.”I followed her into the master bedroom and on into a big bathroom at the side of it. She could see me checking it out and wondering exactly what it was. It had a tiled floor, all sides of which sloped gently towards the drain hole in the middle.“Big,” I said.“It’s called a wet room,” she explained. “They’re big in Scandinavia, I believe.” I looked at her for guidance and she came to me and kissed me sensuously.“Lie down there,” she said. When I spent a. More

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