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'Where are you from', I asked as we all started moving down the same corridor, 'Sweden maam', she smiled that fucking smile again, and I felt my knick...rs wet again.'Well I am Mariel, and this hunk is my husband', and I stopped and held my hand out to her, which she took enthusiastically, and held my own firmly, even that excited me, as my own lingered, catching my husbands eye, his eyebrow raising.'We stay locally, you must come around one night for dinner and a chat', I proffered, and she. "And can you shave off the beard?" I asked. He nodded and went to work. Anna seemed to worry more with each lock of hair that was cut and fell to the floor. By the time the pile of dark brown curls littered the floor around the barber's chair, she'd stood back up and was standing beside me holding my hand as the barber shaved me."You were never going to tell me," she said. "I can see that now. Her holding my hand wasn't new. She'd started doing it when I had the flu really badly. I'd barely. More

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