"Was that Steve I heard going downstairs?" He asked."Yeah, he's probably gone to fuck mummy again, they've been at it like rabbits." She told him, lif...ing the quilt slightly so her brother could join her in the bed."Yeah, so I've seen. How come you didn't tell me?" He asked, climbing into bed with his sister."I was hoping they'd be able to do it discreetly and I didn't want you to get hurt." She answered."How long has it been going on for?" He asked, as he slowly slid his hand across his. ”“You did?” Lissa asked. “Why?”“I took Ben Bowers with me.” My heart started beating in my throat. Ben Bowers is the art critic for the Times. That might not seem like much in a town like ours, but he was highly respected in art circles and had written critiques of work all over the world. He could be a scathing critic or a word from him could make the career of a new artist. Damn! Why had he brought an art critic to see a piece of student art? I grabbed both Lissa’s and Melody’s hands under. More

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