It was a wonder that she managed to navigate her way over the ancient and much beloved, but exceedingly narrow bridge over the river at Pont du Rochelles without mishap. “Vingt trois. Xnx …Vingt quatre. …” Sophie gripped the edge of the bar to steady herself hoping that her panting and soft moans would not be audible above Yvette’s shrill screams. Madame Courvelle had no illusions about the young ladies in her employ and doubtless they’d be sniffing around the pretty young girl like truffle pigs on a hot scent once they had her to themselves in their rooms upstairs! Gripped in panic she drove straight home, hid her damaged car in the garage and rushed upstairs to fling herself on her bed sobbing in fear. She had her girls well trained.
