Chapter 4: Our friend Freud

That first afternoon had passed with Iris showing me over the rest of the old house. It was originally Georgian with pieces added over time. The cosy flagstone kitchen was adjacent to the comfortable living room having a lovely French bay opening onto the pretty patio garden. It was choc-full of character; once, even an old family ghost had appeared.

Upstairs had creaky corridors leading off to various bedrooms and bathrooms.

The room Iris had prepared for me was on the left wing over the library.

"Oh Iris, it's simply enchanting." I said in wonder, as she led me in.

"I'm glad you like it Margot, it's a good shape and it has a nice feel to it somehow."

The two small windows were draped in softly coloured cotton and the wooden floor had a beautiful Persian style carpet alongside a deep comfy bed.

As we looked from the bedroom windows the boys were chuckling their way across the drive together. They were that appealingly odd mixture of boys in young men's bodies. Guy had his shirt thrown over his shoulder, his body proudly open to the sunshine. I felt a rush of pride and sexual pleasure.