“Yes, Quentin . . .”“Ready, Rosalie?”“Yes, Mr. Osman . . .”Havers felt a shaft of the purest sadistic joy lance through him as Rosalie, wi...h teeth bared ferociously, brought the cane whiplashing down across Julia’s thrusting, helpless buttocks.The awful, gasping scream that erupted from beneath him was echoed by another from behind him . . . “I think Havers is going to enjoy himself next week.”“He seems to be doing that right now!” laughed Glenda.“Even more so,” said Quentin.The two of them. I have always recognised him, even as a child I would walk through and recognise the faces of the people who have been drinking here for years. But I had never noticed him until I began working here. Never noticed his height until he was stood right in front of me. Never noticed his hands, big and safe, until they made contact with mine when he handed the money over. Never noticed the quiet purr of his voice until he asked me what book I was reading. He is an older man, with fine lines of grey. More

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