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Rats. More credit card abuse ahead of me. The network was not paying me to buy clothing. My loss about the luggage. Knock. Knock. Knock. I peered out of the spyglass and saw the porter. Cocking my head in inquiry I opened the door to him. Triumphantly he grinned at me, my luggage at his feet. I could have kissed him, restrained myself and gave him a big tip, as it was dragged inside. Closing the door once more I reached in for clean lingerie and my nightgown and peignoir. So very pleased. My cell phone rang and I reached for it. Phil! Oh my God, I had forgotten about Phil. Engaged in a blistering conversation mixed with both American and British colloquialisms I paced the room. Knock. Knock. Knock. Running an impatient hand through my still drying hair I opened the door to dinner. Oh! The only thing that formed in my fragmented brain. Standing with the dinner cart, holding fresh flowers was Steve. ‘I gotta call you back Phil. Dinner’s here.’ Breathless I hung up the phone. ‘What are. ”I didn’t believe this but didn’t think that there was any harm in calling the older lady 'auntie.'“Yes, Auntie Margaret,” I replied and smiled.“Good. Also, you are not allowed to go into either my or Melanie’s bedrooms and she is not allowed to spend time in yours. If you wish to spend time together, you do it in here. Is that clear?” She stood up and looked at me, and then at Melanie, who was now staring at her auntie.“Yes, Auntie Margaret. I understand.” I closed my eyes for a moment as the older lady continued.“No masturbation. No smoking or drinking in my house.” At this, Melanie coughed and covered her mouth. I knew she was trying to suppress her laughter.“And one final thing, young man.” Margaret Donnelly stood inches away from where I was sitting and looked down at me. I looked up at her and waited.“Discipline.” She waited for my reply, but I remained silent and waited.“Well. Your mother said that she has had issues with your behaviour in the past and has agreed that I may use.
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