FORTY-SIX
The excitement that began in the car was at fever pitch when they got home; their lovemaking fizzed. At about eight, Jack asked Mandy to wear her emerald green dress and telephoned the Bistro Montparnasse; a restaurant that had become special to them.
The next morning, while Mandy drove, Jack told her about how he felt, the look of her in the dress, the rhythmic beat of the wipers clearing the screen of the latest deluge, exciting their beating hearts further. Mandy gave an involuntary yawn, the team meet was at ten; they would just make that. ‘So much for the weather forecast,’ she said.
‘Get Connie to check again,’ Jack suggested. ‘A demo will be poorly attended if it’s raining, but I’m more worried about the East Cosham Op.’ She flicked a questioning look. ‘The surround of
