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.” he gestured at two big lens Nikon cameras, slung round his neck. “I hope you’re not going to piss off and not answer.” “Try me, I might.” “OK here goes ... that bag,” he grinned, nodded below the table. I thought Oh fuck! “I’ve watched how you handle it and where you go ... Oh fuck it – are you doing what I think you’re doing?”Gary sat back as he said the words as if expecting me to lamp him, or storm out. The sense of how much he’d worked up to the question and the dangers in putting words to it was startling. He hadn’t a clue how I’d react and neither did I. Having had the early scare with Yummy Mummy’s son. It’s always on my mind, the what if situation. Now – should I tell him or stay shtum. “What do you think I’m doing Gary?” I asked, glancing around, seeing no one in earshot, the pub was quieter now the lunch rush hour was over. “I think you’re peeping up skirts, well not peeping but videoing ... you know?” he murmured. “You a copper?” “No honestly, I’m not, look here’s my. ?"And her name was..?"Karen paused. Thought about it."I don't know, I just heard the story." Because that's all it was, Karen. There's nothing up there. It's just an old building."As I spoke I looked up at the lonely old club house, paint peeling and windows boarded over. A chill ran through me but I put that down to my imagination."You want to do this?" I asked her."More than anything." Okay, I said, "Tonight. But I'm telling you now, nothing will happen!"When nightfall came I was ready to go. It was the middle of summer and the daytime had been hot and showing little sign of cooling off much as the sun went down, so I put on a long, white summer dress, it had the kind of tiny straps that Matt would have loved to have slid off my shoulders at one time, but now even the sight of much of my bra-less cleavage would do nothing to excite him, he only had eyes for Karen. Not that I cared much but I still thought about it sometimes all the same. The skirt was long and light, floated as I.
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