There was something slightly apocalyptic in the way the girl was speaking, and Bella felt more than a little frightened now. She watched the girl get up and walk slowly to the kitchen counter where the young visitor grabbed a glass and helped herself to an opened bottle of white wine.

"You want one too? Make yourself at home!" the girl joked.

Bella was silent.

The girl moved to the patio doors at the back of the kitchen and looked out at the garden.

"You might as well have a glass," she told Bella with that seductive Spanish accent more to the fore. "I mean this party is happening, and sooner or later you're gonna climb on for the ride."

Bella watched, terrified and fascinated. The glimmer of sundown caught the edges of the girl's beautiful body as she stood in that strange jewel-studded, almost illuminated, underwear. Bella couldn't help but notice the delicious little kink between the girl's waist and her hips. As in the train and as in her office, Bella's throat suddenly felt parched. Something lurched in her tummy as if she was soaring on a rollercoaster.

"You have a bed upstairs?" the girl said in that matter-of-fact tone that so disoriented the older woman.

"Er, yes, naturally. We don't sleep on the floor!" Bella was pleased with this reply: positive, confident, and even a small rebuke there somewhere!

"And your husband wears ties?"

This time Bella was less confident: "Er, yes.... Er, why do you ask?"