Chapter 1

Nine o'clock on a warm September evening, there were a couple of bottles of beer on the table and two mugs of tea. I picked up my beer and Joanne took hers. Jeffery (never Jeff, Jeffery disapproved of being called 'Jeff') looked disapprovingly at her then returned to a conversation with my wife regarding opera, or was it Gaudi this time. Buggered if I knew, far too highbrow for me.

Then came the shocker. "Darling," said SWMBO, "Jeffery is going down to Barcelona tomorrow; he has two tickets for La Traviata."

"Oh good," I said, not really interested. "Have a nice time Jeff."

Jeffery smiled at me. "I will," he replied. He must have practised that smile while sucking lemons.

"Do you like Verdi, Joanne," I asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I don't know anything about motor racing."

Jeffery almost had a coronary. "He composed the opera my dear." The last two words were hissed by someone who dearly wanted to yell at his other half but was in company and so didn't. I was sure he would do so later, and longer and louder to make up for the delay.

I laughed. I think that I saw what Jeffery didn't. Joanne knew who Verdi was and was just having a little fun. And why not? They were on holiday as were SWMBO and I, though I think we were having more of a holiday than they were.

SWMBO continued, "Err ... Joanne doesn't like opera and in her condition." Joanne was about seven months pregnant and showing it very much. "She doesn't really want to traipse round Barcelona all day and then suffer La Traviata."

"No," I said in agreement. "You should get into the pool Joanne, let the water take that weight and cool down a bit." It had been unseasonably hot for the past week.

"I can't swim. I've been meaning to try, but..." she looked at her bump.

SWMBO jumped into the half second of silence, "Jeffery has offered to take me down to see it. And you know how long it's been since I last attended a Grande Opera."

"Oh!" I looked at Jeffery, he looked a little nervous as did my wife. Was something going to happen? Well I don't know. But I did know that if they intended to 'do something' (that sounds better than fuck like bunnies doesn't it) then they would do so. They would think of some excuse to get away together. Here was an ideal time and excuse. They could be alone for the day and do what they felt that they needed to do. I would see what else was in the pipeline. "That's nice. Do you have a dress suitable for the opera?"

"I brought my blue one, the A-line one with the front panel." I tried to look as though I knew what she was talking about but had been left behind after the word blue.

"That's nice precious."

"We were looking at Tosca on Wednesday as well." Jeffery put in.

"Can you get tickets?" I asked.

"The hotel have offered me a good deal on the tickets if I book for the two days," Jeffery admitted. He smiled at the thought of saving a few Euro on the good deal. Or was it the thought of screwing a new acquaintance's wife that made him smile. Ummm, from my (short) experience of Jeffery it was probably the money.

"Well, it seems stupid to return here from Barcelona just to drive back again. Why don't you stay over the extra night." I suggested.

"What will you do," SWMBO asked.

"Me," I shrugged my shoulders, "I've got my writing, and you know I like slobbing on the beach. In the evening I'll eat on site and then have a couple of beers at the bar. Get some more writing done then, too." I looked at Joanne, "I might take Joanne for some swimming lessons and give her a good groping while she's helpless."

"PAUL!" SWMBO was scandalised. Jeffery looked at little unsure of what to do. I don't think anyone had ever offered to grope his wife in front of him before.

Joanne though, she was another story. I don't think anyone else noticed the involuntary movement her hand made towards her breast, or the way her nipples suddenly showed through her blouse.

"I need to pack, and you can help me," SWMBO ordered. I think this was supposed to be a punishment for my comment about groping Joanne.

Jeffery and Joanne left their drinks and went back to their caravan. We were on a holiday park halfway between Barcelona and the French border, on the Bay of Rosas. The caravans were thirty-two foot static vans kitted out for the English tourists with all the comforts of home including showers and flush toilets.

We packed what SWMBO thought would be enough for two nights away (i.e. about a weeks worth) into a wheelie suitcase. As SWMBO didn't drive (that's what she had a husband for), and I thought that Jeffery wouldn't want to slum it in my small saloon, I assumed that they'd be taking his Mercedes.

SWMBO went to bed early as she had an early start in the morning. I back went out to finish off my beer; looking over to Jeffery and Joanne's van, I saw her sitting alone on the veranda.

I walked over carrying both bottles of beer.

"Want to finish your beer?" I asked.

She looked at me bright-eyed and smiling. "No," she stood up, "I want a fresh one. Will you buy me a beer at the bar?"

"I'll buy you two if you want."

I put the bottles back on my table, ensured that the van doors were locked, that being the sign to SWMBO that I was going to the bar, and walked over to her.

Joanne linked her arm in mine and we slowly walked to the bar.

"Would you really try and teach me to swim?" Joanne asked timidly.

"Aren't you afraid that I might take advantage of you if I did that?" I looked at her, her head was down but I could still see the signs of a blush on her cheeks. "You know that I would have to hold you up while you're in the water and you don't have that many legal places left for me to put my hands."

With her head down, and so quietly I could hardly hear her she replied, "Maybe you'll have to use some illegal places then."

And now I really could see her blush.

"Maybe I should buy you three beers," I laughed.

"Paul! Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Will that help me get to the illegal places?"

She looked at me sideways, her smile lit her whole face. "I don't know. I can't remember the last time someone was trying to have their way with me." She stopped and turned to me, "You are trying to have your way with me aren't you?"

"Oh yes." I replied.

"That's OK then."

We had a pleasant evening talking about ourselves. She was open and answered freely, even when I asked about her marriage. I had an enjoyable hour with her and walked her back to her van.

"They're leaving early and having breakfast on the way," Joanne told me, "come over when they've gone and I'll do breakfast for us."

"Thank you, I'll look forward to that."

"Bring your swimming trunks if you want." She glanced at me.

"You should remember that flirty little girls get smacked bottoms."

She ran her hands over her bump, "And what do big girls get?"

"They get smacked on their bare bottom."

She smiled and entered her van.

I went to my van and slipped into bed. SWMBO was unusually restless that night.

The alarm went off at seven thirty. I had been up since six o'clock and had made mugs of tea though I didn't think that SWMBO would want to drink that much just before a long drive.

SWMBO had a shower using my things while I finished her packing. Last night I made sure that her mobile phone was charged and had credit. At ten to eight she was ready to go. I wish she was that quick when she was going out with me.

Joanne and I waved as the car drove out of sight and then she looked at me.

"Am I going to be safe with you?" she asked.

"No." I answered as truthfully as I dared.