Simon felt his heartbeat slow and all the desultory chatter of his few remaining fellows faded as he gazed at her.Part of him felt like he was back at...the theatre, the open roof spotlighting this wonderful creature in a brilliant shaft of sunlight. He had been aroused enough by Marlowe’s storytelling, even when he knew it was only a boy actor on the stage tricked up to represent mythical queen.But this was no play acting and that mild arousal become a roaring, insane compulsion as he knew this. Several guests were askingeach other where their hosts were, causing great amusement to us andto those who had already twigged.Anna and Phil came as Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn. Typically they hadsplashed out on expensive hired costumes of course. Phil had thegrace to look a little embarrassed but Anna happily 'queened it' overeveryone, especially me, whom she had recognised instantly."You call this a martini, girl?" she thundered, on tasting the drink Ihad made for her. "It's like cat's. More

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