Mark's black eye was less swollen but he slumped at the table, head bowed, a beaten, sad, and sorry excuse for a man. Katrina, Mark's teenage daughter... was not present. She was upstairs, spreadeagled on the filthy, stained, mattress of the king-sized bed, she had shared with her step-mother, the night before. Katrina's ankles and wrists were fastened with rope to the four corners of the bed. All afternoon she had been subject to the insatiable sexual demands and rough fondling of Patrick. They’re all the same, I want to see you again, and often! Starting with lunch today, if you can make it.’ The peal of happy laughter that came through the phone confirmed that she was feeling exactly the same way as I was. And suddenly lunch-time seemed a long way off. The little restaurant that we arranged to meet at was closer to her office than mine and I wasn’t really surprised to find that she was already waiting for me when I arrived. All the way there I had been feeling a strange sort of. More

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