‘Touch wood,’ I said hopefully, tapping my forehead, ‘I think we might get away with this.’ ‘James, darling,’ she asked irrelevantly, ‘y...u do like black girls, don’t you?’ ‘Yes,’ I acknowledged frankly (why should I lie?), ‘but there aren’t any here.’ ‘Think again,’ she replied. Following her look, I saw one of the waitresses approaching with a selection of cold meats. A badge on her chest announced her as Yvonne. I had noticed her before, when I first went to get some food, but my mind was on. My frightened wife clutched my arm and shook it. Her grip was not comfortable. “Did you hear that?” I sat up. “Yeah, yeah. Listen.” Another scream ripped the night, followed by more whimpering. We got out of bed and went to the open window. We crouched under it and stared at the house next door. A young couple rented it. They had moved in two weeks ago. We hadn’t met them, but had seen them coming and going. The woman was quite attractive, with a shapely body and long dark hair, although I. More

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