“Thank you.” I tell him, laughing a little out of nervousness. He's so close, I can smell the alcohol on him, the fabric conditioner of his clothe... and the sweetness of his aftershave, but I don't feel intimidated or uncomfortable. He doesn't press himself against me, or grab me and force me into submission. Instead he stands there waiting, as though he just knows smugly that I want to kiss him. It happens slowly and silently, like this is the calm before the storm. I look him in the eye, and. I began to have that sinking feeling I had come to the wrong house, I was in the wrong garden, talking to the wrong stranger and I had just been caught trespassing.She smiled. “Ah right, yeah, they are supposed to be back by now. You want a cuppa?”.Not waiting for an answer she walked around the bend in the path and disappeared. I followed. Around the corner was a small patio with chairs around the back door, completely walled in by greenery. It was an oasis of calm. I could see the path led. More

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