It was six-thirty on a Tuesday evening and raining. At least another half-hour until we were home. I glanced at Shelley in the passenger seat and asked, "Nervous?"
"A little. Do you do this often?"
There was no real answer to that. We did it when the opportunity arose and that was unpredictable. Shelley was the first for nearly three months. The next one be next week. It would have taken too long to explain and anyway, we just don't.
We are Graham and Heather, and we are not an orthodox couple. It has taken a while to understand what works for us and it wouldn't do for everybody. Many people would be shocked, some would be envious. But it is what makes our marriage work.
Graham is a senior civil servant - not mandarin but on the way and hopeful. I have my own business, an agency providing temporary office staff. It's the only career I've known. After university I did a business course and then my father set me up with premises and a plan. For five years he worked with me, them said I could manage on my own.
It was soon after independence that I met Graham at a cocktail party. That night we ended up in bed together - as it turned out, unprecedented on a first occasion for both of us. It was the beginning of a sensational relationship.
Temporary traffic lights held us up. I cursed to myself. Sensing that Shelley needed reassurance, I said, "You needn't worry. It's exactly as I told you. Graham will only do what you want from him."
"And you? What about you?"
"We'll see. Play it by ear. Whatever, I won't be far away." Always, I liked to stay and watch but not everyone felt comfortable with that. Occasionally I could get a clue when we had our preliminary chat, but not often.
My deal with Graham arose from a pillow conversation one night after sex. I asked him about the Whitehall women when they were away at conferences and seminars: wasn't he ever tempted? Yes, he said, but so far he had been able to resist. I noted the "so far."
I said, "You always say the sex we have is the best there is. I think that's true. So what could anyone else give you that I don't?"
"Nothing probably. Almost certainly.. Only variety, novelty perhaps. I don't know, really."
"Suppose I could solve that for you?"
When I told him, he agreed to give it a go.
Whether my idea would work, I had no idea. But as I drove with Shelley beside me and Graham at home with a hard-on I knew it had. But it had entailed running a huge risk with my business.
The agency was successful for several reasons. One was that I always paid the women on my register as soon as an assignment was complete; if the employer was slow paying me, I would bear it in order keep my women happy.
Another factor was my vetting process. I never took anyone on my books until I had interviewed them personally and explained my requirements in matters of presentation, dress and behaviour.
On the other side, when a new employer approaches me I make a point of interviewing the managing director so I can see the environment I am sending anyone into. At the same time I let him know how I expect them to be treated.
We were almost home when I reminded Shelley there was still time to opt out. "You know you can say no any time you want to."
"Yes, I know," she said. "But I've had several days, haven;t I? And I've prepared the way you recommended." As though instinctively, she smoothed her skirt down along her thighs. She was wearing a formal business suit with a white shirt, a large lilac bow at the throat the only concession to femininity. But I understood that she was referring to what was underneath. Something we had discussed at our last heart-to-heart.
I was acutely aware I was treading a delicate path every time I had an after-hours heart-to-heart with one of the women on my register, but it ad gradually become easier with experience. From time to time I had always invited some of my more qualified women to drop in of an evening for a glass of sherry and a chat.
It was always valuable to know a little about their personal circumstances and how that would relate to their availability. And then one day I took a chance and dropped a vague hint about the advantages of a fulfilled social life. To my astonishment I was asked if I had ever been sexually frustrated. To cut a long story short, she was the first one I took home as a present for Graham.
Now it was Sgelley. As we turned into our drive I said, "Last Chance. We can still turn roud."
Sgelley shook her head. "Not now," she said. "In for a penny, in for a pound."
Perhaps, I thought, in for a pounding. Ii had no idea of her wishes in that respect but that was her wish, Graham had the equipment, the technique and the stamina to oblige.
When I introduced them, she offered her cheek for Graham's respectful peck. An offer of tea or coffee or something stronger was declined politely, so I left them to get to know each other a little. I noticed that Shelley sat with her knees slightly apart, not showing anything but, it seemed to me, signalling an invitation.
Upstairs, I checked the bedroom, shutting off the rainy night outside; we live in an avenue of large detached houses so we are never overlooked, but closed curtains add to an atmosphere of intimacy. I found a CD for the stereo and set the volume on low. Next I laid out tissues, two kinds of gel and condoms on the bedside table. Shelley had told me condoms were unnecessary, but I liked them to be available.
