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She grabs his hair and, almost distantly, watches herself dunk his head under the water. He struggles, but she is stronger. Yes. Stronger. She is not as weak as he thinks she is. Michael. Michael. Darling, darling Michael who wooed and praised and laughed at her all along…silly, foolish, weak woman. No. She was strong. He didn’t know it, but she was strong now, and he would know it soon enough. His hands were clawing at her, tiny, curled fists, fingers digging into her arms. She does not feel the pain. A trickle of blood seeps out of her skin from under his nails. His struggles get fiercer. His kicking legs send water spraying everywhere, his heaving body sends it sloshing down the sides of the tub. One clutching hand loosens from her arm and slams into the mirrored wall with such force that it shatters. Eventually the splashing heaves and convulsions stop. The nails that dig into her skin slacken their hold. The small, bloodied hands slide slowly back into the water. She lets go.. Robin met us on the hotel steps, outside seeing off another guest, he booked us in and took us up to the suite, on the top floor with a balcony overlooking the sea, it was magic, the sky a pearl and flushed pink sunset over a flat calm darkening sea, before he left he poured a complimentary champagne then discretely left us at the outside table. On the way here, mother had insisted I call her Sue and treated her as a lover all weekend, which suited me fine. We watched the sunset die and the darkness slowly take over. Then, the bottle now dead we went inside. We kissed as if we had never kissed before, she was just a fantastic lover, her arms round my neck, her body against mine, lips hot on mine and her tongue in my mouth. God what a turn on, that woman was, we began to undress, gentle steady finger-work, on both our parts, soon had my top naked and hers down to a lacy white uplift platform on which lay two beautiful breasts like oranges on a green-grocers shelf, the long but small.
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