Michael Eckley liked the finer things in life. Things that he couldn't afford on a Civil Servant's pay packet. Like the attention of the girl who was slowly undressing in front of him. He thought he caught a tang of oranges from her perfume. For a moment he was a child again on a family holiday to Minorca. The only one he could remember. After that he learned that he had to be "careful" with money. His father had become obsessed with saving, with buying the cheapest cuts of meat and supermarket cola instead of the real sort. Fish Fingers, Rissoles and a satsuma on occasion.

" Have you ever read Proust?" he asked the girl.

" My Dad never had a book in the house" she replied " You got ripped to shreds round our way if you were a teacher's pet"

" He used to write about memory being triggered by the senses. Like smell" he gazed up at her. She really was gorgeous, unlike his wife.

" Hmm, Is he as good as Jackie Collins?" she asked , getting closer.

" Different market" he sighed.

Much later he was preparing to leave when the phone rang. He knew who it was.

" I hope you enjoyed yourself because it's time for some work". The voice on the other end was low and convincing " You know what to look for. Remember, no cock ups and your little girlfriend will keep her appointments. Plus you'll keep what you value, mate!"

Eckley put the phone down. He wanted to vomit. In the throes of passion he forgot that there was reverse side to the coin. Hurriedly he put on his coat and headed for the door.