Twenty
2016
I QUICKLY FILLED MY NEW moleskin notebooks with ink. Otherwise my days at p***y Palace (my private name for it) were lazily spent; talking to the girls there, sipping tea all day and swimming when I pleased, reading when I pleased – then writing by night.
Dante filled my thoughts and only writing about him and our time together made being separated more bearable. I yearned for him like never before, felt his absence like a missing limb. Sometimes I woke shivering in the night, clawing around the bed for him, but he was never there.
It took Shay about a week before she made a move on me. I’d known it was coming.
“Why don’t you come down into the dungeons tonight, Cleo?”
“What for, to observe?” I crooked an eyebrow.
I lay on a sun lounger in the huge orangery at the centre
