CHAPTER 1
Wren Wilcox was making oatcakes when interrupted by a phone call.
"Good morning Mrs Wilcox, it's Shona White of Prisoner Rehabilitation Inc in White Oaks speaking. We have a problem in connection with a former businessman about to be released after serving sentence for seriously assaulting a business competitor and destroying his victim's vehicle by exploding a can of gas inside it."
"Oh yes, I remember that case. The assailant had found the alleged victim in bed with the assailant's wife I believe?"
"Well yes but he was charged in court on crimes and received no sympathy from the judge handing down a sentence of four month's imprisonment because Mr Rossiter had shown no remorse and had used totally unreasonable force in dealing with his victim."
"So you are short of an available halfway house at White Oaks?"
"Yes, well anticipated."
"Well Mr Wilcox and I will have him. After all we shop and do business in White Oaks at least twice a month, I take it we can be assured the man being released poses no threat to us?"
"I can indeed. His behavior in prison and before the assault has been exemplary."
The arrival of Kevin James Rossiter to the Wilcox's home was set down for mid morning on Friday.
A couple of days later Gary called his wife Wren and said he'd been asked to go to Bonno for a month to run his company's subsidiary. Its CEO had fallen ill with acute Hepatitis B. He asked, anticipating the reply, "Do you wish to come with me?"
"No but I'll visit some weekends. You know I find it hard to stomach being away from home too long."
"Yeah, I forget how many times you're reminded me of that and it spoilt two of our great vacations when you decided you were homesick."
Driving home on Thursday after dropping Gary off at the airport Wren suddenly remembered the released prisoner was arriving next morning. The terms of his release on probation because he did not have home supervision were he must reside at a halfway house for fourteen days and not leave the property unless accompanied by a supervisor. She thought about calling to cancel the home-stay but shrugged and decided that would not be fair to the guy who should never have gone to jail anyway. God if Gary caught a guy fucking her he'd decapitate him.
The attractive 40-year-old dressed conservatively next morning and restricted make-up to lipstick. She had no desire to over-excite her temporary boarder.
She signed for the transfer of Mr Rossiter who'd arrived in a van with two prison officers.
"I'm Kevin Rossiter ma'am."
"I hope you are because I just signed to take delivery of a Kevin James Rossiter. I'm Mrs Wilks but please call me Wren."
"In that case call me Jimmy."
"Where do you wish to sleep? There's a bed on the side porch and beds in three guestrooms."
"I guess sleeping with you is out?" he grinned.
She smiled and said yes it was, that her husband would be home soon.
Jimmy chose the bed on the porch. He was told that was a good choice because the nights were warming up.
"How old are you Jimmy?"
"Forty-two. And you?"
"Excuse me?"
"I asked how old are you. It's not a state secret is it?"
"Forty."
"Christ you're in great shape for a babe that age."
"Jimmy, I'm an aging woman. I have two children at college."
"Your mind makes you feel old or young. Which is it to be Wren?"
"Well you have convinced me to think young."
"Do you still have sex?
"Jimmy really."
"Okay if it's a State..."
"Of course I do."
"I like your name."
"Thank you. I love it because it's very rare. It's Old English and is the name of a bird. Now have you read the house rules applying to halfway houses used to smooth the rehabilitation of former prisoners returning to society?"
"Yes. May I have a beer before lunch?"
Wren sighed. "You just said you've read the house rules. Alcohol is forbidden."
Jimmy gave her a smile good enough to sucker most women. "Now Wren I don't think you appear to be the type who is a sticker for rules."
"I-I'll think about it."
"Is the garden shed locked?"
"No."
"Good your lawns need mowing. I'll get into them so perhaps you will time my beer before lunch for when I finish."
"You are not required..."
"I know, I read the rules Wren. I cannot be forced to perform tasks. Although with a body like that you could forced me to do anything."
Wren couldn't believe it. Her chest had become tight and she was blushing like a teenager. God the guy was so sexy.
She pulled things out of the fringe for a cold lunch and heard the lawnmower start up and then he moved after the mower in front of her window and she caught her breath. He was wearing just a pair of tight shorts and sneakers. He must have spent every day in the gym while in prison. Oh yummy.
"God you stupid cow; stop thinking like that," she growled to herself.
Four times he passed the window she looked up and he appeared oblivious of her but the fifth time he looked straight at her and deliberately scratched his nuts.
She scampered off to wash her hot face, breathing heavily.
When he finished he put away the mower and she heard the water run so assumed he was washing his face and hands. When he arrived to sit at the table with her on the terrace he was wearing a polo and had combed his hair.
"Thanks," he said holing up the beer and she raised her wine in a silent toast.
"Aren't you wearing far too many clothes?"
She felt so guilty that she blurted, "I know it's warming up but felt I had to for reasons of decorum."
He appeared to be staggered by that comment. "Decorum? But you are at home."
"And you are just out of jail," she said.
"Meaning?"
She bit her lip and he grinned. "Oh I see, you think I have been cooped up in jail away from women and I'll be provoked by your sexy body if you wore just shorts and a skimpy top. You think just because I beat the crap out of a guy and torched his car that the sight of flesh under the swell of your tits will make me lose control?"
"No of course not."
"Well it might and you could get lucky."
"Are you returning to your furniture store?"