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By the end of the party, only a handful of guests remained. He was ensconced in the kitchen talking to a pretty young thing whose name was Helen. They were earnestly agreeing about the perils of globalization, and a sort of intimacy was developing between them.Suddenly, Helen, startled, looked up behind Jiri and went quiet. She shook her head as if her vision was blurring, and, a little apologetically, said"Sorry, Jiri, but I've got to go".She left quickly without another word.Before he could turn to see her depart, he felt a gentle touch on his neck that he both welcomed and somehow expected. Those strong fingers were soon kneading and caressing his own neck, and he lowered his head as a strange lassitude and warmth spread across his shoulders and down his spine. For several minutes, he let those fingers work their magic, and he closed his eyes and let them drain all the tension from his frame."What is your name, my love?" she asked"Jiri" was all I could say."Jiri, my name is. Susan had made her worship of Charlotte into something of a religion. Not just shaving Charlotte’s crotch (which had now discontinued since Maisie’s appearance on the scene) but in the way she always brought Charlotte breakfast in bed, fussed around her all the time and combed her hair. Indeed, if Charlotte had allowed it, she would probably wipe her arse clean after Charlotte had had a shit. Susan had even tried to demonstrate the permanency of her love by getting a small tattoo put on her upper shoulder with Charlotte written on the face of a red rose. Josephine knew more than Charlotte of the intensity of Susan’s passion, as she was in the position of Susan’s confidante. She knew that Susan always fantasised about making love with Charlotte whilst making love with other people. She knew that Susan claimed to have never truly loved anyone else before. This was why previously she could only make love to an audience, as a way of exciting her libido through exhibitionism. She knew.
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