Chapter 5

Andy had dropped off a small tray of chocolates at the florists with his phone number on and had received a call twenty minutes later as we was walking back to his car. He had seen the girl working in the shop and had discreetly slipped the present through the ground-level letterbox in the door without being seen.

"Who is this?" the caller asked and Andy chuckled, he recognised the voice immediately.

"Andy," he replied evasively.

"Who? Have you left some chocolates at the florists in Market Street?"

"Yes. They are for a beautiful girl working there a couple of days ago. She had shimmering hair, a wonderful smile, a captivating body and a quite exquisite necklace."

There was silence for a moment. "So, how can we help?"

"Well I was sort of hoping to take that young lady for a meal tomorrow evening, if she was prepared to come," Andy said and there was a further silence and a titter.

"Yeah, that girl would love to come. What time?"

"Six outside the shop?" Andy asked and the girl agreed.

For the first time in months, Andy had a date.

"So what do you want, again?" Mr Grimes, the manager of the small shopping pavilion asked. Twelve shops lined Hilltop Walk, that connected the main shopping centre with the main multi-storey car park and bus terminal. "Your solicitor, well our solicitor outlined it, but I am a bit perplexed to be honest."

"A fake promotion. I need a guy, who I will provide, to take her details when I am with her, and then I need to have a letter written four weeks later, say, that just says to that the person had won an amount of money, here is the cheque and enjoy it."

"What's in it for me?"

Andy smiled. "I need twenty-five grand to go out. I will put twenty-six in your account."

"Twenty-seven."

"Twenty-six plus a monkey as a bonus when they go for it."

The man sniffed. "I think twenty-seven is more appropriate."

Andy puffed out his chest. "OK, Twenty-seven. But through Jenny." He looked at the man's expression and shrugged. "Mrs Murray."

"Right," he muttered and held out his hand. "Pleasure doing business with you."

"Nice shot. How's John?" Andy asked and Ezra smirked.

"Oh he's OK. He has got a flat now so he has moved. Quite a way away, over Bletchley way. Zoe came home and found him screwing the girl from across the road, you know the one with big titties that you asked out."

"I did not ask her out," Andy replied indignantly. "But yeah, I know who you mean."

"Well Zoe was furious with him and he moved out to his flat a few hours later."

"And you'll be seeing him when?"

"Oh I don't know. He is the black sheep of the family and no-one really wants to talk to him. I, sort of, feel a bit sorry for him. I mean, he saw Rhea the other day and apologised to her, but he just doesn't get what being outside those walls means. He is used to prison life."

Andy laughed and Ezra passed the sole pool cue they were playing with.

"Not the only black sheep 'round here though, is he?"

Ezra grinned as Andy did the perfect shot and slid his red ball into the corner pocket. "You seem to be a bit of an outcast yourself," Ezra replied and Andy ignored him to sink his final ball.

"You were as well as I remember. Running off to Bolton after causing how much damage?" Ezra winced. "So how much was it again?" Andy enquired as he lined up the black, number eight, ball.

Ezra squirmed and downed the last of his pint. If Zoe had seen him he would be in trouble but his wife worked in an another part of the town and never came to this pub so he was probably safe. Until he got home and she demanded an explanation as to why he didn't answer his phone earlier in the day when she tried to arrange a lunchtime rendezvous for them.

"And your name is?"

Simon, dressed in a smart shirt and chinos gave a nervous smile, his face was bright red, partly due to the heat of the studio lights, and partly due to fear. There was a feint smell of paint in the room, probably caused by the rapid redecoration the "studio" had undergone to be ready for the television talent show auditions.

"Simon."

"And you're from?" asked a middle-aged gentleman with impeccable hair and flawless white false teeth.

"Aylesbury."

A washed-out pop star cackled at the end of the table. "I sold out a gig there once," she said, clearly hoping that they might include it in the cut to show how widely listened to she once was. Simon didn't know what to say and just grinned at the woman.

"And you are going to sing for us?"

"Nothing compares to you, by Sinead O'Connor."

The third member of the panel, a record producer, chortled. "Normally sung by our female contestants," he sniped.

"Well it was originally released by Prince under The Family," Simon responded instantly without thinking and the man snarled. Simon, might not be able to sing, but he knew a lot about music; it was his passion.

"Yes, I know that," the producer snapped back. "Sing."

Simon took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He didn't know why, but it seemed as though he should. He listened to the introduction in his head and then prepared himself to sing.

"It's been seven hours and fifteen days," Simon belted out as, tunelessly amending his pitch to compensate for his lack of singing ability. "Since you took your love away."

Simon waved his hands around theatrically and extending them forward to gesture to the unseen and imaginatively present crowd in front of him.

The panel sniggered but Simon was so absorbed in his own performance he didn't see and it was at the end of the massacred chorus when he was stopped.

"So why are you here?" The producer asked, still not having forgiven Simon for correcting him earlier.

"I want a better life for my family," Simon instinctively replied and he grinned.

"Well I want a better life for my eardrums so you definitely ain't going through."

"It's a no from me, too. If you are the standard of music ability here today then we might as well go home now," he was told and after a moment of faux niceness from the washed out popstar left Simon utterly dejected.

He might not have expected to win, but he hoped he might get through. He arrived and had to audition in front of a researcher, and then again in front of a senior researcher. He was told he was ideal and would be in front of three "faces" of the show and should really go for it, and he did, dreaming of a new start for Rhea and Izzy.

Rhea tried to be sympathetic but shook her head, grinning. "Well what did you expect, love? You cannot sing and more than I can knit."

"Yeah, but it's a one million pound contract. It would make everything better."

Rhea stared across the table at him and bit her lip. She spoke in a low, forlorn voice. "No Simon. The money won't make everything better. The money is just a small part of it. It's the breaking of my trust that's the problem."

Simon looked at his dinner and got up. "I'm trying Rhea, I'm really trying," he shouted at her and left the room forcefully.

"Yes you are, aren't you," Rhea murmured to an empty room.

"Flowers, what a surprise," the girl told Andy as he came up to her a two minutes to six.

"Ah, yes, OK. Not good, right?"

"They are lovely. Just not from me."

"No. Well I could hardly buy them for you from you, could I?"

She laughed and put them inside the shop in a vase of water. "I can take them home tomorrow. Where are we going?"

Andy looked at the girl again. She was a lot shorter that him, quite a bit in fact, but she had a teasing, expectant grin on her face and he smiled in return. "What food do you like?"

She smiled. "English?"

"Well I was hoping not to go to a pub, but there is a good pub out my way," Andy told her and she laughed.

"Well that's a cunning ploy."

"Well, there is, I live in Cholesbury and we have three pubs in the village. One of them does good food."

She nodded and then agreed to get in Andy's car, something that Andy was not expecting. She cooed at his flash BMW and he put the radio on, and then reduced the volume.

It occurred to him that he didn't know his date's name and asked. She cackled and rubbed her hand over his on the gear change. "Rita," she replied as he steered a look at her.

"You know if you keep doing that, you might just distract me from the road," Andy warned and she moved her hand to his thigh with a wicked laugh.

The pub was quiet, it was midweek and the restaurant was almost empty. The brown, tanned wood shone out in the dark room and the feint stench of beer combined with that of the leather to create the unique smell that was his favourite eatery.

"It's a nice local," Rita admitted as they walked through into the seated area.

"What you having?" Andy asked and Rita bit her lip.

"Well you are driving me to Aylesbury so I can drive home, right? So we both better go easy on the drink."

Andy had not considered this and nodded. "I was only going to have one or two," he admitted and Rita surveyed the drinks behind the bar.

"Can I just have the house white. Small glass."

Andy ordered a large glass of the house white wine and a beer for himself and sat down to order.

The waitress returned with their drinks and they ordered their meals. Rita was very keen to know as much about her date as he was prepared to tell her. He missed out a number of his sexual conquests, as well as the less-impressive parts of his life, as well as the bit about him being a millionaire. He had found a mixture of envy and stereotypical perception often clouded the judgement of other people when he had told them in the past and therefore normally avoided it.

She was particularly interested in his splitting ups and he laughed. "I get told that I am not very good at parting company. It never seems to go the way I intended it to."

"Ah well, it never does. I can tell you that."

Andy grinned and pressed the opportunity to get Rita to elaborate but she steered the conversation back to him and started probing ex-girlfriends. He got another drink, and another large glass of wine for Rita, and started answering her questions.

"Why are you interested in my past?" Andy asked and she smiled.

"Because it shows a lot about you, and I want to know."

"It's quite unusual," he muttered. He had always avoided the subject of ex-partners with his girlfriends, particularly on a first date, partly out of apprehension when he was younger and then embarrassment as he got older. Rita was determined and wouldn't let him move on until he had told her what she wanted to know; which was everything about all of his ex-lovers.

Afterwards, the date got easier. Andy was already having second thoughts about her, she seemed to obsessed about who he was years ago, not who he was now, but they joked and then talked about flowers before he paid for the meal and they had a couple of games of pool.

Rita had changed into a short tartan skirt in the shop, an outfit that was bringing back a number of other memories for him, but Andy wasn't a bad player and was able to put the cue ball in places on the table where she would have to lean across and her skirt would ride up.

This was lecherous behaviour, but the three pints of beer Andy had consumed made him more excitable and he gleefully did this much to Rita's amusement.

They had a fourth set of drinks and after Andy had won the third game, they left the pub and started walking back to the house.

"Yo too drunk to drive me," Rita said and held out her hand for Andy to take. "But I think you knew that."

Andy gave her a sheepish look. "Yeah. I'll order you a taxi. But I was enjoying myself. I didn't want to stop."

Rita looked down at the country road and stepped around a pothole. "It's just, well. I haven't had any fun since he cheated and, if I am allowed to stay the night, I'd love to."

Andy sniggered and squeezed Rita's hand. "Yeah, of course. How could I refuse?"

She smiled and pushed open the side gate. They walked up the path, got to the front door, and she pulled him back and kissed him on the lips.

"Don't be gentle," she teased and popped open the first button on his shirt, and then the second and third. Andy smiled and put his hands at the base of her top and pulled it upwards, to reveal a navy lacy bra.

Rita smiled and pushed his shirt back. "Shall we go upstairs then?" Rita asked and Andy unlocked his front door.

To come face-to-face with Zoe, Rhea, Ezra and Simon.

"Hiya," the topless millionaire said, and his half-naked companion did the same.

Rhea watched Andy go out in the early evening and slumped on the chair. She was bored. She had spent all day looking for jobs and her fruitless search was demoralising.

"Let's get Zoe and Ezra over," she mused and Simon nodded.

"When little one is in bed?" Simon asked and Izzy threw her fork down on the plate.

"No daddy. I want to see Uncle Ezzie," she said firmly and Simon grinned at her.

"They'll be here after your bed time," Simon told her and she screwed up her face.

That wasn't quite true. Zoe and Ezra had enough time to say good night to their fiercely independent niece before joining the couple on the couch.

Ezra had picked up a bottle of wine, but Zoe had ordered him not to drink any with the warning, "do you know what alcohol does to your sperm count?"

Ezra sighed and picked up four wine glasses and emptied the bottle in all of them. She shot him an angry look when he came in and she put the glass down on the side.

"Ezra. Do you want a baby?" Zoe asked furiously and Ezra gave her a dismissive grunt.

"Honestly love, one glass of wine won't make any difference."

"Yeah, and how do you know?"

"Because I do. What will make a difference is having sex every day five times a day. That lowers my sperm count, but you didn't care about that."

Zoe screwed up her eyes and and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Hey, Ezra. Maybe you should sit this one out," Rhea suggested calmly and Simon nodded, but the stocky man shook his head firmly and took a big sip.

"But it can't do any harm," Simon suggested and passed his glass to Rhea. "I'll be teetotal as well for the night."

Zoe looked at Ezra expectantly and he took another sip. "No. Rhea is pregnant and she can have a glass. You are wanting to conceive and you are having a glass. Why can't I?"

"Because we have been trying to have a child for years and you haven't got me pregnant," Zoe thundered. "So whatever we can do to raise your sperm count, the better."

"Yeah, and I've lost over a stone and a half. Maybe, just maybe, if your body didn't attack my sperm as invaders you might just be knocked up by now."

Zoe and Rhea both gasped and looked at each other.

"Well it's true. Her body kills my sperm. I give her tens of millions of sperm every time and her body systemically kills every single one of them. It's her bloody fault."

Zoe burst into tears. "It's not my fault. I've tried everything," she wailed and Ezra groaned at her.

"For god sake," he muttered and Zoe shook her head and left the room.

"You heartless bastard," Rhea roared. "How can you say such a thing?"

"Well it's true."

Rhea slapped him on the face as she got up. "Stop behaving like my brother."

Simon waited for Rhea to leave and looked across at Ezra. "They are a little bit emotional at the moment," he muttered and Ezra sneered.

"Tell me about it. All I hear is bloody pregnancy and babies. It's getting on my nerves to be honest. I know she wants to be pregnant but she is just getting obsessed and I almost don't want a baby any more. I'm fed up with her. And if it is my fault she isn't pregnant then maybe she should find someone who can get her knocked up."

Simon nodded at him and took a deep breath. He didn't know what to say to him, but Ezra fumed silently in the corner of the sofa staring at the carpet.

Rhea returned a few minutes later, a scowl across her face. "Are you going to apologise?" Rhea asked and Ezra returned the frown.

"No," he replied dismissively and Rhea shook her head.

"You have really upset Zoe," Rhea told him but he just shrugged.

"Good. She is obsessed and I'm fed up with it," Ezra countered and Rhea pulled herself up to her full height. "I'm fed up with her."

"She is desperate for a baby, Ezra. Your baby. She wants to carry your child. At least show her some support."

Ezra grunted and Rhea snatched the glass of wine from him. "Just behave like a man and apologise."

Ezra stared at Rhea; he had known her for almost as long as he had known Andy and they certainly locked horns in a battle of wills regularly but Rhea's resolute determination was unyielding and she raised an eyebrow.

"Just apologise and we can then watch the DVD," she told him and he begrudgingly got up to find his wife, sobbing in the bathroom.

For Zoe, it was too much. Her and Ezra had decided to try and have children when they returned from honeymoon, and that was three years ago. For three years she had been tested, prodded, poked, done everything required to try and get pregnant. She had made sacrifices, and the only things Ezra had to do was to watch his weight, avoid alcohol and to have sex with her, and he objected to this.

Ezra gently opened the door and his steely resolve disappeared. He sat down next to his wife, who was sat with her back to the bath, and held her hand.

"Sorry love, it's just frustration," he muttered and she sniffed back.

"I know, but you don't understand what it's like," she cried. Not since he was sixteen had Ezra a reason to feel this guilty before.

Rita looked down from the foot of the bed, and glanced at the naked Andy in the bed. He was lay completely still but fiddling with his phone on his bedside table. Rita glanced at the little table on the side and picked up some massage oil, rubbing a small portion in her hands.

She slid her oiled hands down his shoulders, his chest, his thighs and hips, bypassing the erect cock that poked out from his body. Rita was very tactile and began kneading Andy's thighs and legs, and then his pectoral muscles. As she leant across, her body touched the tip of his cock and he sighed.

He had said very little to Rita since she had entered his bedroom; she wasn't talkative and when he tried she sshed him. Instead Rita leant over her date and pushed her breasts into the face of Andy. He moaned as her hands darted over his oily body and sucked the nipples presented to him.

Rita began to groan as the tongue of her new lover darted wonderfully over her erect nipples. She swung her legs over and suspired noisily, Andy's erect cock was positioned over her clitoris and she gently flicked both of them by rocking back and forth sending shockwaves through their respective loins.

Andy tried to position his cock into her hole, but she laughed at him, and gave him back her nipple to pleasure. Rita liked teasing, it was all part of the game. She would have liked to have tied Andy up but it was a little forward on a first date; she didn't know how kinky he was!

Rita removed her nipple from Andy's mouth, and spun around so she could lick Andy's erect member, and she planted her shaved crack onto his face. He glanced up and felt a metal stud, she had had her clitoral hood pierced and Andy put his tongue up against it.

Rita squealed; she loved receiving cunnilingus with her piercing, it was so much stronger sensations and Andy was licking and flicking her clitoris, probing her hole and sliding up her perineum.

Andy groaned and closed his eyes, savouring the musky sweetness of his date. Rita sucked in her lips and slid up and down Andy's erect cock. He grunted and Rita reached over for the massage oil. While she impaled her mouth on Andy's dick, she slid her slippery fingers over his balls and then along his perineum.

Rita was over his anus and he clenched his buttocks in surprise. Rita knew he would; he didn't seem the adventurous type and she pushed her fingers down hard on his perineum, circling it.