“This is Trish”, James called out joyfully. Sophie didn’t like being called Trish but while he was armed with that photograph she thought better...of telling him so. James went to the bar and brought back a few bottles of beer for himself and a whole bottle of white wine for her. He sat next to her and before long his hand was on her thigh, slowly creeping higher, she felt a bit frightened but as before she kept quiet, she wanted him to erase that photo from his camera.As she drank more wine. They had reached the patio of the cottage, modest by wealthy standards, but in its simplicity itself was a homeliness he found engaging. The wooden platform ran along the perimeter of the house, extending as a pier-cum-tea-table in the back of the house. In the quiet afternoon, they could hear the water lapping gently against the wooden stalks that supported the platform.Ronnie surveyed the scenery as her father fished around for the keys. She couldn't remember the last time she had visited. More

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