* * *

CHAPTER FIVE - Hendry's Club

The following morning I was away from my hotel by eight o'clock. My first priority was to hire a car. I had enough money in the bank to think big, and, providing I kept all the paperwork, I hoped to get it all back on expenses. So I hired myself a top of the range Jaguar. It drove nicely, and hopefully it looked the part. Basically, if I was to become a member of a very exclusive club, then it had to appear that I had a lot of money to throw around.
My next stop was to an expensive tailors. I also realised that I needed to look smart, so once more I lashed out with the money. Finally, and to top it all off, I invested in a few gold rings and a diamond studded tie-pin. Once more I kept all the receipts, for I was throwing money around that just wasn't mine. I just hoped in the end to come up with the goods and all this vast expenditure could be justified.
Later, back at my hotel, I tried everything on. I remember looking at myself in the mirror and wondering who the person staring back at me might be. It certainly wasn't me. He looked more like someone from the Godfather, especially when I just draped the overcoat over my shoulders and not put my arms in the sleeves.
Having satisfied myself that my new image was the right one, I phoned Hugo. It was about lunch time when I did so, for I knew it to be a waste of time to call him any earlier. Hugo was a night owl, always staying at his club till late, then sleeping it off throughout the morning.
Anyway, I phoned the club sometime around midday, and after a bit of a wait whilst he was traced, Hugo came on the line to speak to me. He sounded very tired and irritable.
"Good morning Hugo, such a nice day," I greeted him, and trying to sound cheerful myself.
"Grrrr," came the reply, "what do you want Woody?"
I could tell that he wasn't in a very good mood, so I came straight to the point.
"I want to pick you brains Hugo," I told him. "What do you know of a club called Hendry's?"
"The one in London?" he asked.
A strange reply. I didn't think that there'd be more than one. Anyway, not to antagonise him any further, I just agreed. I guessed if I ever got into the first one, then I'd quickly find out about the rest.
"Yes, the one in London," I told him simply.
"It's big… it's exclusive… and you need to take out a mortgage on the girls… that's how expensive it is," answered Hugo rather dryly.
I guess I already knew this. He wasn't telling me anything new, but at least I was encouraged to learn that Hugo knew of the place and I wasn't about to venture out on a wild goose chase.
"Hugo, do you know the exact address? All I've got is a location," I explained.
Hugo thought for a moment.
"Woody, I'm in the bar at the moment. The information you want will be in my office somewhere. Tell you what, I'll get my secretary to find out the details and ring you back," he suggested.
I agreed and gave him my mobile number. I then went on to beg another favour.
"Hugo, I also want a reference," I told him. "A good one. One that will get me into the club."
For the first time in the conversation Hugo began to sound chirpy. At least I could hear him having a little cackle to himself on the end of the line.
"So my old mate Woody finally wants to join a BDSM club?" he said with a further chuckle.
I tried to laugh with him.
"I guess getting back with Sandy's taught me a thing or two," I put it to him and left it at that.
"Well Woody, if I'm contacted, then you'll get nothing but the best reference from me," Hugo assured me.
I was grateful. Now most things were in place. All I needed now was Hendry's secretary to give me that address. However, there was one more thing needed in order to keep our stories straight.
"Thanks Hugo, and if asked tell them I've been a member of your club for fifteen years. Will you do that for me?" I put it to him.
Hugo cackled again.
"Fifteen years it'll be then Woody, no problem," he agreed.
I tried to think of anything else, but at the time could come up with nothing more.
"That's much appreciated Hugo, and please get that address sorted out quickly will you?" I told him.
Hugo cackled again. He sounded in a good mood now, and I felt pleased that I'd managed to cheer him up.
"My pleasure Woody," he replied, "anytime, and I'll get my secretary to phone you back straightaway with the information you need."
I reckoned that by now me and Hugo were the best of mates, and I thought of a way to reward him.
"Hugo, when I'm back in Birmingham, I'm going to take you out for a big meal," I told him.
Hugo laughed loudly.
"You do that then Woody," he told me.
I laughed with him for a while.
"I will," I promised eventually, "I'll keep in touch… see you soon… and thanks for everything Hugo."
"Bye Woody," he said finally, then put down the phone.
After that call I remember lying back on the bed in my hotel room, staring up at the ceiling and thinking that the morning had gone quite well. I just hoped that the afternoon would prove to be equally successful.
Anyway, as promised Hugo's secretary phoned me back within ten minutes and gave me the address I was looking for. I'd never met her, but she sounded very sexy over the phone. I felt like chatting her up, but I didn't. Instead I told her to thank Hugo for me and left it at that. Though, at the time I must admit I was toying with the idea of visiting Hugo's club sometime when Sandy wasn't around.

* * *

After a light lunch at the hotel I set off sometime around two o'clock. Dressed smartly and flashing all my new jewellery, I climbed into my newly acquired Jaguar and drove away from the car park feeling like royalty.
I arrived in the area just on the outskirts of London about thirty minutes later and drove around the tree-lined lanes for about another half an hour before finding the place I was looking for. It was difficult to believe that the bustling metropolis was just some twenty five miles away. This was a leafy suburb, with country lanes and genuine old Georgian houses in idyllic settings.
Hendry's club was a big old house with rambling gardens and a long arcing gravel drive that went in one entrance and came out of another. Both entrances were bounded by large, ivy covered brick pillars, and overgrown rhododendron bushes lined the drive on either side.
An interesting feature was the many statues. They stood on top of the four brick pillars guarding the entrance and also lined the drive. I'm no expert, but they all looked like either Greek or Roman gods to me. Anyway, there were a great number of them, all stood on their plinths and, according to their sex, either flashing their tits or showing their dicks.
I parked up in the road next to one of the entrances and looked around for a while. After further investigation I assumed this to be the place. A number, partially covered by ivy on one of the brick pillars coincided with the address Hugo's secretary had given me. But other than that there was no indication that this was the house I was looking for.
The gates looked as though they were permanently open, so I entered the drive and made my way to the front of the house. There were a few cars parked up outside the big house and I pulled up alongside the row. I then noticed on a sign that this area was reserved for staff, and that club members had their own area to park over on the other side of the house. Seeing that I was neither a club member nor staff I left the car where it was and walked to the front door.
The main entrance to the building was a few steps up and bounded by gothic pillars. The door was also guarded by two further statues. They looked like they meant business. One had a bow and arrow, the other was about to hurl a thunderbolt at me. I climbed to the top step and rang the bell. Whilst I waited I looked around. It was noticeable that I was being observed, not by the statues, but by a security camera positioned just above my head. I tried to ignore its presence and concentrated on waiting for someone to answer the doorbell.
When the door was finally opened it was answered by a man in a white shirt and a black dickey-bow tie. I assumed him to be a barman or waiter, for he was not built heavily enough to be a bouncer.
"Can I help you sir?" the man enquired.
My immediate observation was that the man was not English. His accent was foreign, and by his darkened looks and the few words spoken I took him to be of Spanish origin.
"Is this Hendry's?" I asked.
The man nodded his head.
"This is Hendry's," he confirmed.
Inwardly I breathed a sigh of relief, and thanked Hugo for furbishing me with the correct details.
"I'd like to become a member here," I told him, and at the same time flashing all my expensive jewellery the best I could.
The man looked puzzled. I don't think many people turned up on the doorstep and announced that they wanted to become a member of what was a very exclusive club. He gave the matter some thought, then asked me in.
"Come on in sir, Mr. Hendry's up in his office, I'll tell him someone's here to see him," he said eventually.
I entered the building and was told to sit and wait in the hallway. The man then left me whilst he went away, presumably to speak to Mr. Hendry.
For probably a good ten, maybe fifteen minutes, I was kept waiting. The hall was spacious with a winding staircase and a long corridor leading off it. The door and windows were in stained glass, and the area was lit by a large chandelier hanging down in the central stairwell. I also counted six more statues forming a circle about the hallway. By now I was getting used to the presence of all these gods, but one thing did disturb me, there was another security camera on the wall behind me, and pointing towards the door and foot of the stairs.
It was whilst I was looking up and admiring the chandelier that I observed someone coming down the stairs, or at least a hand descending the long curving rail. As the hand came to the final bend in the stairs I could see that it belonged to a man aged somewhere around fifty, with a balding, close cropped hairstyle and a short, greying beard. He was smartly dressed, wearing a suit with collar and tie, and like myself well endowed in expensive gold rings.
At the bottom of the stairs the man held out a hand to greet me. I stood up from my chair and walked the short distance to meet him. We shook hands beneath the chandelier. The man looked me up and down, and hopefully eyeing my own collection of gold and diamonds. I think I outranked him by a few carats. I stepped back a little so that he could get a good look at all of my jewellery. I hoped that he was suitable impressed by my apparent wealth.
"My name's Hendry. This is my club," he told me and sounding like a man that stood no nonsense.
I smiled and look delighted that I'd found the right man.
"My names Mr. Woods. Woody everybody calls me, and I'd like to join your club please," I told him and trying to sound polite.
Hendry raised an eyebrow.
"Mr. Woods, can I ask, how did you get to know about this place?" he asked, and from his attitude obviously remaining ultra cautious.
I set about allaying his fears.
"I was given this address by the owner of a club in Birmingham," I told him. "I'm a member there and have been for quite sometime. The trouble is I'm working more and more in London, and I don't get to Birmingham very much these days, so I'm looking for a new club down here, and I've been told that this is the very best."
Hendry nodded his head. I could see that he liked my story up to a point and was willing to hear a little more.
"Mr. Woods," Hendry started.
"Woody," I interrupted, "please call me Woody."
"Woody," continued Hendry, "well you have come to the very best. Come up to my office. Let's continue our conversation upstairs."
And with that Hendry turned and set off up the stairs. I followed. At the top I was led along a corridor to a door marked 'Office'. It was noticeable that all the other doors had numbers, except for one a little further along that said 'Library'. At least I think it did, but the door was a bit too far away and at an angle to be absolutely certain.
We entered the office. I was surprised Hendry had the nerve to call this an office. It didn't look like an office to me. It was a big room with expensive thick pile carpet, I'll grant you that, and there was a big desk with a big high-backed leather chair behind it. But that was all there was apart from a couple of ordinary looking chairs and telephone and a desk lamp. There was no paperwork, no typewriter, no computer, no filing cabinets, nothing. The room looked decidedly sparse and bare.
Hendry moved to sit down at the desk and beckoned for me to take a seat opposite. I drew up a chair and sat down. There was a big put-down here. I assumed it was meant to symbolise who was the boss and who was the underdog around here. Hendry was seated in his great big leather seat behind an equally huge ornate desk, and I was sat on an ordinary chair without arms or padding, and feeling downright uncomfortable.
Behind Hendry's chair stood a pair of big, glass double doors that stepped out onto a balcony. Just before I sat down I got a good look at the lawns and gardens that surrounded this big house. Apart from lines of statues there were peacocks out there strutting around on the lawns. I tried to value the place and guessed that even my sponsor, Ted Jones, with all his lottery winnings behind him would struggle to afford this place. That's just how expensive the house and gardens looked to me.
Hendry took out a sheet of paper from a draw, then clicked a pen taken from his inside pocket.
"Now Woody, tell me more about your club in Birmingham, and why you want to become a member here?" asked Hendry once we'd both settled down.
I tried to looked relaxed and give the impression that I was a man of equal wealth and stature.
"Hugo's the name of the club. It's in the centre of Birmingham. It's not as exclusive as this one, but then away from London nothing is. But it suits my purpose, and they've got some pleasant girls there," I told Hendry.
Hendry nodded his head then wrote down the name 'Hugo's' on the piece of paper. I got the impression that he'd heard of the place.
"Woody, do you know what we do here?" asked Hendry afterwards.
 I nodded my head, but tried to sound a littler vague.
"You're reported to be the best BDSM club in London, if not the whole of the country, and that's all I need to know," I answered.
Hendry smiled and looked pleased with my response.
"We're also very expensive," said Hendry, "have you been told that too?"
I smiled back at him.
"That's why I'm here," he told him.
Hendry grinned. I think I was winning him over.
"Well Woody, we'll obviously have to check you out first, and if that's okay, then I see no reason why you can't become a member here," he informed me.
I grinned back with equal enthusiasm.
"Why thank you Mr. Hendry," I said.
Hendry leant forward, placed his elbows on the desk and put his hands together before speaking. His mannerisms suggesting that he was a man with a lot of information to relate. I settled back and let him get on with it.
"Woody," he started, "before you are accepted here, I must first tell you all about our membership terms and conditions, then you tell me whether you agree."
I simply nodded my head and let him carry on.
"To start with there's a five thousand pounds enrolment fee, after that it's five hundred pounds a month. We have a very well furnished dungeon here, and if used privately for an evening, then we charge an extra two hundred and fifty pounds for the privilege. We do this to stop the other members griping, otherwise, on a shared basis, it's free. We send you a bill on the first day of each month which includes bar expenses and anything extra you might have had, such as videos, equipment and dungeon fees, and you're expected to pay up in full by the seventh day of the month. Failing to do so disqualifies you from membership, and if you wish to join again, then the five-thousand pounds entrance fee will be required once more. So Woody, after all that, do you understand our terms and conditions and, more importantly, do still want to become a member here?" asked Hendry seriously.
I tried not to look shocked and took the figures mentioned in my stride.
"It all sounds very reasonable to me," I told him with a grin.
Hendry smiled back. I guess I must have looked and sounded like a good customer, and the sort of clientele he liked to have around.
I got out my cheque book and my expensive gold pen in order to pay, but Hendry intervened almost immediately.
"Ah! Woody, there's one more thing I forgot to mention," he said, "all payments to the club are dealt with strictly in cash. We don't take cheques or credit cards,… sorry."
I smiled and put my cheque book and pen away.
"Sorry, but I don't carry that much cash around on me," I apologised.
Hendry opened out his hands in gesture.
"Woody, you can pay us on your first visit. All in used notes and sealed in a brown paper envelope is the normal way of dealing with things around here," he explained.
I nodded my head. I could tell by his tone that I was nearly there.
"No problem," I assured him, then added: "So, when do I start?"
Hendry looked to a diary taken from the top drawer of his desk. This was my third day in London and today was Wednesday. I hoped that I didn't have to go on a long waiting list and not come back for months, that would be a disaster.
"How about starting tomorrow night? Can you be here early? Say about seven o'clock?" asked Hendry.
I must admit I breathed a sigh of relief at this stage. Tomorrow night was just fantastic.
"I can be here at seven o'clock, no problem," I assured him.
Hendry nodded his head and stood up from his desk.
"Then Woody, turn up tomorrow night, bring the money along with you, and your membership starts immediately," he said and holding out a hand to finalise the deal.
I shook hands heartily across the desk, then Hendry gave me one more thing to do. He handed me a form from out of one of his drawers.
"This is our membership form," he explained. "Can I suggest that you go down to the bar, fill it in and leave it with Fernando."
I guessed Fernando was the guy that had let me in. I took the form and shook hands with Hendry.
After saying our last goodbyes, I descended the stairs alone and made my way to the bar.
I'd expected the layout to be similar to Hugo's, with a typical lounge styled bar and side rooms for private activities, but alas, I was sadly mistaken. The room was laid out like a ballroom, with a central floor area, a stage at the back, and tables all around the outside. There was also one other very big difference - it was impossible to dance in the centre. It was completely littered with BDSM equipment. There were two large wooden frames, both decked with chains and leather straps. There were also two crosses - one 'X' type, the other Christian - plus a large steel cage capable of holding at least half a dozen people. Finally, around the outside lay several stands, and all containing a vast assortment of whips, canes and scourges. Needless to say, I was suitably impressed.
The room was in semi-darkness. All the lights were off and the only light entering was through one solitary window that had its curtains open. I looked around for Fernando, but the place was deserted. So I made my way to the bar, scaled up on a stool - one I  must admit was a lot lower than those in Hugo's - and set about filling in my membership form.
I gave my name as John Woods, and my address as a five star hotel right in the centre of London. When it came to occupation I wrote 'Second Hand Furniture Dealer', (if it was good enough for Al Capone then it was good enough for me!), and for my age I cheated a bit and put down thirty-nine. There were some other silly questions too, and, as far as I could see, bore no relevance to my becoming a member. At least I didn't think so. Therefore, for my height I put 4'-2", and for my weight I put 20 stone, (280lbs to any American readers,) and nationality I put 'Transylvanian'. In fact the only thing I did answer correctly was the name and address of the reference. I put down 'Hugo's Club' and, as agreed, I said that I'd been a member there for fifteen years.
After reading through the form twice, and changing my answer for 'Hobbies' from 'beating up old ladies' to 'dominoes' - I considered this would show a much more gentler side of my nature - I folded up the document and placed it between the pumps on the bar.
I looked around. The place remained deserted and I wondered whether I should stay a little longer, or simply let myself out and return tomorrow night as promised. But the answer was made for me. No sooner had I started to contemplate my next move, the door opened and in walked Fernando. Furthermore he was accompanied by two gorgeous looking young ladies. One was dark haired, the other a blonde. For a moment I thought of Judy Jones. But none of these fitted the bill. The girl I was looking for was twenty-one years old. Both of these girls were a little older. I put them in their late twenties. Possibly both aged somewhere around twenty-eight, twenty-nine, something like that.
I slid down from off my stool and waited for them all to arrive, but the two girls broke away, crossed the central floor area and made their way to another door over on the far side of the room. They did manage a smile however, and I smiled back, but that was all.
In the meantime the person I assumed to be Fernando moved behind the bar before confronting me. He switched on some lights which made viewing a lot easier. He then saw the folded form between the pumps, picked it up and slid it between some pint beer glasses behind the bar.
"I guess you've been accepted then," said the barman as he turned to face me.
"Subject to references," I put to him.
The barman nodded his head. "He'll do that. He'll check up on you. You've put the references on the form I assume?" he replied and sounding non-committal.
"Just one reference. My old club in Birmingham," I told him.
The barman nodded his head. "If he's heard of it, that'll probably do," he confirmed.
I hoped that it would.
"What's into all this form filling anyway?" I asked.
It seemed to me that since Hendry had heard of Hugo's, then that should be enough.
The barman gave a wry smile.
"He's form mad," he whispered.
"Form mad!" I queried.
"Everybody has to fill in a form of some sorts, the staff, the gardeners, the girls, even the cleaners have to fill one in, so don't take it to heart," he informed me.
I wondered if I'd done right by putting down the answers I did. I hoped that he wouldn't look too deeply, and not go beyond Hugo's for any character references.
"When are you starting then?" asked the barman whilst I pondered.
"Starting tomorrow night apparently," I told him.
I held out my hand. I realised that we had not properly introduced ourselves.
"My name's Woody by the way," I said, "and I guess you're Fernando. I was told to hand over my form to Fernando behind the bar."
The barman nodded his head.
"Yes, I'm Fernando," he said simply.
We shook hands.
"Can I get you a drink sir?" asked Fernando once the introductions were over.
I thought about it. Drinking in the afternoon was not really my scene, especially if I had to drive back to the city centre afterwards. But I decided to stay a little while longer, if only to remain friendly with the guy. I ordered my usual drink.
"Whisky and a splash of soda then please," I told him.
I got out my wallet and was prepared to pay cash for the drink, but as the soda siphon hissed Fernando shook his head.
"We don't take cash here sir. It'll go on your next bill," he informed me.
I put my money away not knowing how much the drink had cost me.
"What if my application is rejected?" I asked.
Fernando shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't care.
"Then you've got yourself a free drink," he informed me.
I was happy enough with that and took a sip. I settled down on the stool and began to think of ways of bringing the conversation round to the girls that worked here. Perhaps somewhere along the line I could even drop out the name Judy Jones, but I did not wish to push matters too far on this first occasion.
Just then, in the intervening silence, the door over on the far side of the room opened and in walked the two girls I'd seen a little earlier. Once more they glanced towards the bar and smiled, but did not come my way. Instead they threaded their way between all the BDSM equipment and ambled their way to the stage over at the far end of the room.
There was also something else very striking about their appearances, and which, quite naturally, attracted my attention. One girl, the dark headed one, was dressed in a black leather outfit. She wore high-heeled leather boots on her feet. She also carried a whip and a large bag tied to the end of a stick.
The other girl, the blonde, was dressed in cat's outfit. At least I took it to be a cat's outfit. It was a complete one piece outfit that left only the face uncovered. On top of the hood there protruded two small pointed ears. On the girl's upper lip were stuck some whiskers and her nose was painted black. The suit itself was coloured a mottled brown and black, which I guess was meant to symbolise a ginger tom, or in this case the female equivalent. There was a wide studded collar about the cat's neck with a leash attached.
The girl in the leather suit was leading the cat across the floor. Eventually they climbed the few steps to the stage and disappeared behind the curtains.
I was naturally curious.
"What's happening?" I asked Fernando.
Fernando flicked some switches to light up the stage before answering.
"That's Dick Whittington and his cat. They're not the club's working girls. They class themselves as travelling entertainers and they're practising for Saturday night's revue," he explained.
"Saturday night? What happens on Saturday night?" I asked.
Fernando leant forward over the bar before speaking.
"Once a month on a Saturday night we put on a bit of a show here. We try to show something different on each occasion. These two girls get round all the clubs and do a double act. They call themselves 'Devina and Devotion' and are booked for this coming Saturday. You must come along and see them. They've got a great act."
I nodded my head. Already I think I was getting to like Hendry's little club.
"Perhaps I will," I remarked.
Just then music sounded from speakers over on the other side of the room and the curtains began to open. I turned to face the stage. This looked like it was going to be good.
From side stage in walked the leather clad girl followed by the cat on the leash. The cat was crawling on all fours and making mewing noises. There was a signpost positioned centre stage and a mound of artificial grass next to it. There were two directional signs at the top of the signpost. In the direction they were heading it said 'London 25 miles', in the opposite direction it said 'Birmingham 200 miles'. I don't think those mileage's were correct, but I was proud to see my old home town up in lights so to speak.
Dick Whittington, or Dick as I'll call her from now on, yawned and dropped down her bag. (Or should it be his bag? I think I'll stick to female gender so as not to confuse!) She then flopped down on the grass, yawned again and pretended to go to sleep. The cat in the meantime had taken to sniffing around the place. She sniffed the base of the signpost, then the mound of grass and finally Dick's travel bag. The cat then did a naughty thing. She pissed up the travel bag. Not for real I hasten to add, just pretend.
Anyway, Dick must have been sleeping with one eye open, for she shot up and began to rebuke the cat. But a telling off was apparently not good enough. Me personally, I would have just kicked the cat up the arse and gone back to sleep. But this was a sub/dom act so I suppose there had to be more to it than that.
From out of her bag Dick found a few lengths of rope. She then set about tying the poor old cat to the signpost. Now I'd not noticed before, mainly because of the distance between bar and stage I suppose, that the pointed ends of the two directional signs just happened to have convenient holes in them. Anyway, poor cat's wrists were lashed to the ends of each pointer, and then her feet were bound together and lashed to the base of the sign. Cat by the way was facing the audience. And also standing up on her hind legs which seemed a bit cruel.
Well, if you think that was punishment enough. After all it was only a little piss. Poor cat had to suffer a few strokes from the whip. There was nothing viscous about the strokes, everything was being played out in slow motion.
Time for Dick to go back to sleep I was thinking, but no, cat still hadn't been punished enough. There happened to be a zip that ran all the way down cat's front. Strange cat! Anyway, the zip got pulled down and then the suit spread apart.
Now the show was getting interesting and I sat up on my seat. This cat had two very large breasts. Suddenly I was beginning to wish that I'd taken a front seat. Anyway, poor cat got several more lashes of the whip, this time across her naked breasts. Strangely she kept on meowing every time the whip struck. Somehow it didn't sound right.
Cat's been punished enough, you might well be thinking. But oh no, there was more to come. The zip not only went down as far as poor cat's mound, but continued on down and between her legs. Dick moved the zip down, then between cat's legs and up a little way on the other side.
 Dick then discarded the whip and returned to forage in her travel bag. She extracted a vibrator and held it up for the audience to see. I guess there would have been applause at this stage, but the room remained silent. I was thinking afterwards that I should have clapped my approval, but I didn't. I guess I was thoughtless, sorry!
Anyway, cat was going to get her final comeuppance, and I bet she was terrified. Dick set the vibrator going. Toyed with cat's nipples first, then moved on down to the clitoris. After a bit more teasing the vibrator was seen to disappear up the cat's virgina. After that the meowing gradually turned firstly to purring, then to a series of grunts and groans, and finally to a few almost human sounding gasps of pleasure.
The strange thing was, it took cat about ten minutes to reach orgasm. But I suppose when you're being punished so wickedly, then you can't dictate the proceedings and say exactly when you want that orgasm to occur.
After a little bit of finger wagging, and a little more rebuking from Dick, poor old battered and mesmerised cat was released from her bondage. I guess that was one hell of a beating she took, and I guess after learning her lesson, she would never piss up her master's bag ever again.
Dick returned to her grass mound, yawned and closed her eyes. Poor cat, still licking her wounds, curled up at her feet and went to sleep. The lights dimmed and the curtains drew shut.
This time I clapped my hands. That was one hell of a revue.
I turned to Fernando.
"When did you say the real thing is?" I asked.
"Saturday night," he replied.
"I'll be back," I told him.

* * *

End of Chapter Five