My Muse and Me

'I do like it when you do that,' Lydia said.

When it came time for Lydia to remove her own skirt, she had a grey Glock 9mm strapped to her thigh, just above her right knee. 'Is that real?' Delia asked.

'There wouldn't be much point in having it if it wasn't,' Lydia said.

'No. I suppose not.'

Janet wasn't sure how or when she got back to the annexe. But, clearly she did. That was where she was when she woke up the following morning. It was where Delia was too – although she also had trouble recalling how and when she had got there.

When the two ladies went down for breakfast – la prima colazione – they were greeted by a new face: Pietro. 'Buon giorno,' he said.

'Buon giorno,' Janet said. 'Are we first?'

'First?'

'Umm ... prima,' Janet said. And then she reverted to her speaking-to-foreigners voice. 'Mr Tom? Miss Lydia?'

Pietro frowned.

When Maria arrived – shortly before four o'clock that afternoon – Janet asked the same question. But Maria, too, just frowned shook her head.

'The people who were here yesterday,' Janet said. 'Mr Tom and Miss Lydia.'

Maria shook her head.

'But what about our passports?' Janet said.

'Your passports? Ah, yes. In the safe. We always keep them in the safe,' Maria said. 'Why? Do you need them?'

'What do you think?' I asked Muse.

'It works for me,' Muse said.