The maître’d seated us at a booth. As I sat down, Sam started to take a seat across from me. I scooted down the leather-benched seat and patted the...open space.“Sit next to me,” I implored. Sam looked around, as if he was looking to see whether or not there was anyone in the restaurant who might tattle on him, and then seeing it was OK, he slipped on to the leather seat beside me. He took a deep breath and forcibly exhaled. I could tell he was nervous.I grabbed Sam’s hand and squeezed it in. Her long hair had fallen down, and the eighteen-year-old’s head was moving as she nodded to signal that she understood.“I don’t want any fuss, Lucy otherwise I shall have to tell Mrs. Barnes, Mrs. Lawrence and Miss Benson, won’t I?” Pauline unintentionally gave Lucy Cardwell’s small bottom a rub.The young Sixth Form girl exhaled loudly.“No Miss. I’ll be a good girl, I promise.” She purred.Miss Manson shuffled around on her seat in an attempt to calm herself and also to get comfortable with the. More

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