Chapter 13

"Why do you like fighting?" Katie asked her friend as they lay on the bed late on Monday night.

"Makes a change from kissing you and eating that sweet succulent pussy! What about you? The Irish blood I suppose?"

Katie rested her head on the comfort of Angie's firm and swelling breast, so much more prominent than here more modest protuberance.

"I might have an Irish name, my lovely, warm, soft, sweet, friend, but that's pretty well as far as it goes. Fergus O'Brien, bachelor married Jane Knowles, spinster of this parish in 1723 and that is the beginning and the end of my Irishness! I've calculated I have about 1% Irish blood, if that. Statistically and genetically nugatory! The rest of my family is good Anglo Saxon stock from way back."

"You know" she warmed to one of her favourite themes.

"Your own surname tells you bugger all about yourself. Go back a few generations and you have so many ancestors it's unbelievable. Just try it, doubling up every twenty five years or so! You go back to 1300 and you've more ancestors than there were people in the country at the time! You know what that means, don't you?"

"No, Katie, I fucking don't, but I suspect you are going to tell me. What a bore you are sometimes!"

Katie aimed a punch at her friend's stomach - not too hard, but hard enough to wind her!.

"It means you are almost certainly descended from EVERYBODY who was alive at the time, including the King."

"Big, bloody deal. Either go to sleep or make love, unless you want your hiding now, rather than Saturday!"

TUESDAY NIGHT

"I hope you survive on Saturday." said Angie "After I knock you cold."

"Why?" murmured Katie as she stroked her friend's light brown hair and kissed her ample breasts, concentrating on those lovely hard nipples.

"'Cause you make a lovely cup of tea in the morning!"

They giggled.

"We're not dykes, really are we?" asked an anxious Katie.

"Course not! You silly goose. We're going to find a gorgeous, very rich, hunk apiece and raise lots of lovely kids. Now shut up and lick my clit. You know how I love it when you put your sweet little tongue down there!"

WEDNESDAY MID MORNING

"Home Office. Good Morning."

"Good Morning, may I speak to Miss Angela Smythe-Fortescue. please?"

"Just a minute"

"Angie, darling? Katie here. Bad news."

"Gosh, Katie, you've dragged me out of a very important meeting. This had better be worth it."

"I checked on the tide tables for Saturday. No way kiddo. It's all totally out of synch. Can you make Thursday of next week?"

"Hang on... Yeah, I can take the day off. What a let down! Don't blame yourself, daaarling, I should have thought of that myself. We'll give each other a bloody good spanking tonight, right?"

"Fine! Can't wait. See you my love!"

"Hope deferred makyth the heart sick." thought Katie as she lolled back in her executive chair. SHIT!!

THURSDAY MID DAY

That fat bitch from the Pony Girl days!

"Jean, JEAN, move yourself girl!"

"Katie?"

"See that fat woman over by the news kiosk?"

"Yes, boss"

" Get out there and keep an eye on her and follow her! DON'T let her see you. You're excused all other duties for the day. DONT take any risks, sweetie, but see what you can find out and keep phoning in!"

"OK, Katie"

"No, Jean! on second thoughts, this could be dangerous, forget it"

"Fuck off, Katie!" and the girl was away, glad of a bit of excitement. Why should the boss get all the fun around here?

Katie recalled her thoughts on that tropical beach, when she had wondered why she could not command the same kind of loyalty from others that Charlie Ford did from his cousin. Well - it looked as if Jean was giving her just that kind of devotion. And there was also Angie, of course. She was building up a team of her own!

"Gosh, but I'm a lucky girl"