We were encouraged to work with external partners so I was pleased to have struck up a relationship with Mike. When he said that he had an urgent contract for me I grabbed my handbag, pulled on my coat, and headed to the station.
It was lucky that my passport was in my bag because our destination the next day was Paris. This evening, however, we would stay in Mike’s exclusive London club. This was a large grey building situated in a yard behind a high stone wall. The reception was staffed by two ancient wrinkled crones dressed in multi-coloured bathrobes and turbans. The main reception room was crammed full of torn and dusty furniture, with most of the seats already taken. I found somewhere to sit in a corner and waited while Mike brought me a drink.
I looked around at the other club members. Some were forcing themselves on young girls who were clearly underage. I took a sip of the green cocktail that Mike handed to me and suggested that we go outside. I planned to tell him that I did not like this place and wanted to leave.
We stood at the wall and I made my announcement. Mike’s face fell. Then I realised that he had invited me here not for work, but because he was in love with me. He confessed as much, adding that he had spiked my cocktail so that he could be certain of taking me home to bed with him that evening. This horrified me.
‘Haven’t you seen a photo of my husband?’ I screamed. ‘Why ever do you think that I would be interested in anyone as puny as you?’ Then I ran away as fast as I could. Mike’s lack of fitness meant that he couldn’t keep up with me.
TPR and I were reunited under a bridge beside the River Thames. I was so pleased to see him, although not very happy to hear that he had just added the names of two new women to his list of conquests.