Open Writing

'Not here,' he says, 'not in front of all these people.'

'Why not?' she says. 'All I want is a kiss.'

'Well, you'll have to wait.'

She pouts. 'I don't want to wait. I want you to kiss me now. It's no big deal.'

'It would be a big deal.'

'Who cares?'

'I do. I'm the professor. They expect certain standards from me.'

She touches his arm. 'They don't know what you do in private, do they?'

'Please be quiet. They'll hear you.'

'Well, let them.'

He raises his glass but doesn't drink. 'Why are you trying to embarrass me?'

'I'm not. I'm only being natural with you . . . Most people here know that I'm your mistress, don't you think?'

He glares at her, then quickly smiles. 'How can they?'

'Oh, word gets around, doesn't it? I've probably told one or two people.'

'You've what?' he exclaims and heads turn ... 'I really ought to mingle.'

'You never mingle - you couldn't mingle if you tried.'

'I ought to.'

'You need me at your side.'

'Yes, but not here.'

She grins at him and says, 'You need me under you - that's a thought for you to conjure with, isn't it? Are you getting excited?'

'I wish you would keep your voice down. It's very shrill.'

'It's what? . . . Ah, good evening Ms Jacobs,' she says to a senior lecturer who joins them. 'I was just asking the professor for a kiss but he won't play.'

'Well, I will,' says Ms Jacobs and kisses her, lingeringly, and they all go quiet, watching.

'I must mingle,' says the professor, 'I really must.'