Open Writing

'There's no way through here,' said Brackley, when they reached the gate.

The woman he was with pushed past him. 'Well,' she said, 'we'll just have to climb over, won't we?' And she did, showing her thighs.

Brackley followed her. 'Where next?' he said.

'If we follow the path through the trees we'll find it.'

'Are you sure there'll be no-one in?'

'Of course I'm sure. I wouldn't be bringing you if I wasn't.'

'It sounds as if you've been here a lot - with other men,' Brackley said.

'Of course,' she said.

'And women?'

'Yes, but not for orgies, if that's what you think.'

'No, I er... Is that it?' Brackley asked, pointing. 'Hang on, there's smoke coming out of the chimney. I thought you said -'

'Oh, don't you worry about that. It's only Freddy.'

'Freddy?'

'Yes, my husband. He looks after it for me ... Don't worry, he'll stay out of the way. But he'll want to say hello to you first. He's very sociable. In fact he's too sociable, always chatting to strangers. I've told him not to let any of them in but he just ignores me. He used to be a civil servant but he came into money. Now he's writing a book about City scandals. I've told him he should do novels instead - they don't need as much research, do they?'

They went in. A man in a suit of armour was standing in front of the fire.

'Is that a Norman helmet you're wearing, darling?' the woman asked him. 'It makes you look like William the Conqueror.'

The man removed the helmet and said, 'If she's told you that I'm Freddy, her husband, and that I'm writing a book, she's a bloody little liar, isn't she?'

Brackley watched the woman as she took off her blouse and bra.

'Well,' he said, 'I wouldn't put it quite like that.'