“Tony, have you woken up yet?” Father Petrou called.“Give me a minute, Father.”“I’ll be in my office,” he replied.Fifteen minutes later I walked into Father Petrou’s office, under my arm the bag containing the money. My good friend, the priest, was reading from the bible which was spread open on his desk. If I hadn’t coughed, he wouldn’t have noticed me standing there.“Merry Christmas, Father Petrou,” I said.“A Merry Christmas to you Tony.” He smiled. “I didn’t see you all day yesterday. Did you spend the day with Julie?” he asked.“I was in Brighton. I had some unfinished business down there.”I put the bag on the desk, in front of Father Petrou. He looked at it, then at me, finally gazed back at the bag. He closed the bible he was reading, putting it to the side. He pulled the bag nearer. He slowly unzipped it, spreading the opening wider to look inside. He took a deep breath then exhaled. He retrieved the bloody baton from inside the bag, putting it on his desk. His eyes fixed on the. Before she knows what she's doing, she has removed her silk robe and slung it over the back of her dressing chair, leaving her stood in nothing but her stockings and heels. "Why didn't you visit sooner?" Ava asks him in a husky voice. "Circumstance," John answers simply, removing his smart, grey suit jacket and chucking it on top of her robe. The pair of garments are a perfect representation of their respective owners. John's strong arms are around Ava now, one at her waist, and another reaching his hand to between her shoulder blades. Their lips meet for the first time in a delicious frenzy of long-awaited passion, Ava's ruby lipstick smudged beyond repair. Neither of them notice. John lifts Ava upwards, wrapping her legs around him as he manoeuvres them to the chaise at the back of the room. Her slender, nimble fingers make quick work of his trouser zipper, and she pushes the fabric down past his buttocks, moving upwards to undo his shirt too. The pale grey cotton is pushed back.
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