Friday night, and Trevor
had suggested a visit to the pictures to celebrate their first month together.
“This film you want to
see, it’s not something, uh, all slushy, is it?” Paul asked,
looking as though he might object.
Trevor smiled to himself.
“Yes, the latest Barbara Cartland inspired romance.
White Lace and Taffeta
I think it’s called.”
“Oh, God,” Paul
groaned.
Trevor couldn’t hold in
his mirth any longer. “You should see your face. I was just pulling
your leg, reminding you of when you took Geraldine to the
pictures.”
“Don’t remind me,” Paul
groaned.
Trevor giggled. “I’d never
do that to you. Honestly, I don’t mind what we see, so long as it’s
not one of those high budget action things that’s heavy on
explosions and light on plot.”
A look of relief passed
over
