Page 6 of A Night with Damien Spur

A steady stream of patients diverted her from vengeful thoughts.

Anna chivvied the kiddies waiting to be seen by the doctors for twitches and this and that.

In between the comings and goings, she popped a boiled sweet in her mouth from a stash she kept in a drawer and checked her mobile for emails.

There were the usual missives from travel firms selling cut-price holidays to exotic places that she couldn’t afford but to which she subscribed just in case she had a windfall. She deleted those – but clicked the link in the message from her favourite online store, Eve’s Lingerie Boutique, which had announced a mega sale. Searching through the underwear sets, she chose a pretty lavender lace bra with pink rosebuds and matching briefs for £20 and saved it in her basket.

She felt safe in the refined elegant room. Calm. Not like home, where emotions were stripped bare.

Fewer patients than the early morning rush allowed her a cup of instant coffee that she made in the little kitchen, and a ginger nut biscuit.

Back at her desk, she flicked through the glossy magazineshe kept hidden in her drawer.

Holidays, divorces, weddings and glamorous celebrity parties. Anna was in flight mode, sipping a pina colada in Barbados with Brad Pitt when the doorbell buzzed.

‘Your name, please?’ Anna asked politely.

‘Damien Spur. I haven’t got an appointment, but I’ve chipped a tooth. I spoke with Dr Lacey this morning. He said he would squeeze me in between sessions.’

‘That’s fine. Please come in.’

Anna looked at his wildly handsome face and felt a rush of pleasure that made her blush.

She dropped her eyes and scanned the diary. ‘I’m sure he won’t be long, Mr Spur. I can see there’s been a cancellation at midday.’

‘I will probably need a couple of visits, but I might make it three.’ He gave her a roguish smile.

She noticed his chipped incisor. She imagined him biting her neck.

‘You’re the thriller writer, aren’t you?’ Anna asked. ‘I’m ashamed to say I haven’t read your books. I mostly read historical novels. But I’m always seeing your photo in magazines.’

‘What’s your name?’

‘Anna. Anna Rose.’

‘Ah! A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Now, can you find out what time Dr Lacey can see me?’

‘Oh, of course, Mr Spur.’ She buzzed up. ‘He’ll see you in fifteen minutes.’

‘That’s good,’ he said, scanning back and forth from her lashy brown eyes to her cute little breasts… and back again.

‘May I just say, funnily enough, I’ve written a children’s book.’ She gave him a flirty smile.

Here was a man who could change her life – and she must seize the opportunity.Carpe diem, do or die. She took courage.

‘I know you’re a terribly famous writer but I’m wondering,if you have the time, perhaps you could read my story. I would love to know your thoughts.’

Damien, please,said the Voice. She’s cute, but don’t get carried away. Children’s stories aren’t your bag – and what happens if she can’t write?

He smiled. ‘Well, okay. If it has potential, I’m happy to give you suggestions to improve it. But, if not, I’ll tell you the truth.’

‘Of course, I expect you to say what you think. It’s kind of you to read it. Thank you so much.’

‘What’s it called?’

‘The DogThat LostIts Bark.’

‘Good title,’ he said.

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