What Are Friends For (Part 2)

Next day their wheels got delivered back from the garage, ending my cab-career. But a week later came another dinner invitation, this one to Yew Cottage itself. My last visit had been cut short when Kitty decided my what-the-hell climax signalled chucking-out time. Embarrassed, I hadn’t argued. They were into a pretty game scene by anyone’s standards but I had thick skin too. I’ve never been very sure what any woman wanted; these were…