IT WAS THE NIGHT OF Rafferty’s stag do. Abra was having her hen night at the same time and they were both getting ready. Abra looked very fetching in a short, low-cut and sleeveless white dress and a short and frivolous-looking veil. She wore a red letter ‘L’ on her back, and had put a white, blue beribboned lacy garter on her leg. This latter had stirred Rafferty’s libido to the extent that he had wanted to take it off again. But he had restrained the impulse. There was no time before Llewellyn arrived, unfortunately.
‘You’re no learner,’ Rafferty told her, in reference to the beginner’s sign. ‘In fact, I reckon you could teach me a thing or two.’
‘And the rest. That Catholic schooling of yours has left you decidedly conscience-ridden about doing naughty things. I only hope getting marr
