Now, in the car, on the way to visit Auntie Jean while the kitchen fitters fitted on, she was feeling the aftereffects. Her eyes were scratchy, her head was light, every tug on the gearstick was painful and she was sore. But God, it was worth it. Every twinge and wince brought back a flood of luxurious memory, of some dirty, delicious thing Leonardo had done to her. I’ve been seduced, she thought, and the words made her squirm with pleasure. She tried to imagine what Deano would think if he knew she had let some Bledburn estate hood do all those things to her. God, what would the papers say? What a field day they could have. Shuddering, she turned off the main arterial road heading eastwards out of town and found herself swiftly in a dense maze of red brick. This was where she had grown up. The estate had never been a glamorous place, but it had gone even further to seed since she had walked these streets. Far more abandoned shopping trolleys and mattresses than she remembered, fewer neatly kept front gardens.
