Terence mused irritably on his predicament. He had put himself in a corner. Before the morrow he simply must make a successful interception to replenish his funds, at least sufficiently to pay the bill here and hopefully leave a little to tide him over. He spoke to the innkeeper, who having dealt with Terence previously was happy enough to accept his promise to pay tomorrow morning. This morning passed in his accompanying Joanna to the blacksmith’s where her stallion was re-shod. After returning the stallion to the inn, the sun being warm and the day pleasant, they wandered along a lane together, passing between low banks. A little way along the woods closed in, and the banks steepened. Soon they came to a bend where a swathe of wild flowers, delicate yellow primroses chief amongst them, nestled on the earthy bank. Terence stopped suddenly to admire the scene. Joanna’s face turned to his, and she read his expression of wonder with some amazement. She had not realised he was as. I kept a look out for her and eventually I spotted Lucinda jumping into her car and heading for the car park exit. I started my car and followed her. After 10 minutes we arrived in a run down part of town, down a side road and headed to a local community centre. Keeping my distance I waited and watched her go into the centre, approaching cautiously I walked up to the entrance and saw the sign on the door. The centre was temporary accommodation for Syrian refugees whilst they await asylum and rehoming. Rather than going in, I went around the back of the property and peered through each window until I saw her sat on a desk, legs crossed with her already short dress riding up and providing a glorious view of her legs. I could make out the top of stocking which I sensed was deliberate as the classroom was full of young Syrian men, I counted 14 of them in all and they seemed to be in their late teens at most. Although I could not hear anything, Lucinda was clearly talking to the class.
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