She glanced over at Andrew – who was now studying his face in the mirror and staring at something. ‘What are you looking at?’ ‘The volume of g...ey hairs in my head is increasing exponentially.’ He sounded concerned. ‘Christ, I’m only just thirty-five and I’m starting to go grey like my Dad!’ ‘Andy, if you carry on doing things to me like you did in the shower this morning I couldn’t care less if your hair is grey, blue or pink!’ Leah said as she walked over to him. Wrapping her arms around his. Fay began to wear the spice beneath her clothes, and it was not long before her husband’s driving passion was kindled toward her. “You smell African,” he said.I was still holding the book when she emerged from the showed. “I read your story,” I said. Her skin was warm and damp and clung to the terrycloth white town that covered her torso. “My story?” “She uses saffron and it drives Albert crazy. Saffron, the smell of Africa.” “It’s been driving me crazy, too,” she said, “but I’ll need more than. More

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