HANKY PANKY

 

Rebecca would tell you the same thing. She and I were cohabiting that weekend. It was, what it was -  nothing serious.

(I mean, seriously, can you see me with her?)

It was a fling…a ‘thing’, nothing more. In fact, let me check my calendar. I think that weekend was a seminar, and, if so, I always take note. I’ll bet it puts us in the same proximity. Be happy to check. Of course, before I do so, I’ll need one thing from you – a good reason to do so.

Dorothy.

Good lord, you wouldn’t go tattling on me for such a ‘minor occurrence’? Hell’s-bells she barely registered on the "meat-meter". That can’t count! If it’s going to count then why not name the Countess, or Savannah, or the ‘nun-with-no-name’… but, not Rebecca!

I see…

You see what you want, but Dorothy can’t be a part of this matter.

Oh, but she is. She is the crux of the matter.

Oh? Well, what about Val?

What? What about Val?

Seems you have your own crux to bear.

You wouldn’t dare…

Oh, most certainly.

Val was only a temp…

As if that matters. Plump little thing…

I disagree.

Does she always laugh with that annoying giggle…

I found it charming…contagious, even.

Each to their own, but you get my point?

There are children involved...twelve years! You can’t drudge up some whizbang tussle I had in the coat room…

If that’s what it was, it must have been special for you both.

It was a ‘moment’…an alarming spark…it was clumsy, verging on grotesque.

I would imagine, with all the ‘coats’, and scarves, and… rubbers…

You keep shut about Val and I’ll not mention it to Dorothy.

Deal. Now let’s wash up and get back to our desks or they’ll be accusing us of hanky panky!

Good Lord!

V