TURNING THE TABLES
There is an insistent buzzing on your flat entry system and you realise that was what woke you. Remembering it is our day, you buzz them straight in. Sliding out of bed, you wrap your silk kimono around you and pad to the door.
“Who is it,” you call through the door.
“Courier, Miss Jones,” comes the basso reply.
Without thinking, you open the door to reveal a huge but smartly dressed black man, holding out a box and a letter.
“You are to open the letter first,” he says, pushing past you to enter the flat and closing the door behind him.
The letter is of course from me and is to the point. ‘A car will arrive for you at 8pm. Be ready and wear only what is in the box. Firstly though, Clive needs to be paid for his trouble. Get on your knees and do what you do best!’
