“So you’re having an affair with your personal assistant,” I shrugged, “it’s not a capital offence, it might be salacious gossip but I don’t kiss and tell, despite what I told Petra up there about my affairs. She must think I’m a tart.”
“Petra makes up her own mind,” Fatima fluffed at her hair, “people think they know which way she’ll turn but it’s almost as if she second guesses them and moves the other way. Sometimes I think she does it deliberately.”
“I’ll remember that,” I smoothed out my dress, “but I’m not sure I’m much good.”
“You told her about yourself?”
“Aye, perhaps too much about myself,” I winced, “she does know about this lesbian,” I tapped myself.
“And you’re wondering why I haven’t told her about my sexuality?”
“That has crossed my mind just now,” I looked at her.
“I
