“OH,” I gasped. “Yes of course.”I closed the door and faced it for a moment, still unsure how to react.“Lock it!” she snapped, so I did.By...the time I turned about, she was already in my front room standing in front of the three bar electric fire warming herself, but still clutching coat about her.“How can I help you Miss Booker?” I asked nervously.Her shoulders were shaking and I realised she was crying softly.“Oh God,” she whimpered.“O, Oh please don’t cry,” I stammered by now blushing hard. “What?” she asks confused “I thought this was the guest bedroom…” After a few seconds her eyes get wide. “OH GOSH! I’m in your bed! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! I’ll get out.” as she starts to get out I feel myself instinctively reaching out to her. “No no, don’t go it’s okay. Besides the guest bed isn’t comfortable at all its much better in here,” I pat the bed lightly and smile “come on its okay.” She smiles and crawls back into the bed but putting the blankets over her so I couldn’t see. More

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