"My name is Beth, short for Elizabeth", announced the lady from the en-suite.

Peter struggled out of bed, made himself decent and then slumped by the window in an armchair with his tea.

"We're off out on our travels this morning", said Sarah conversationally.

"You must have a look at Dunkery Beacon - it's got a special feeling of mystery to it", beamed Beth as she emerged to tidy around them in the bedroom. Sarah disappeared into the en-suite to shower and get dressed carrying a floppy red checked shirt - one of her husbands' - and a blue denim skirt.

"I'm completely ravenous, Peter", she called. "Let's get a move on and have some breakfast pronto".

Peter looked unconvinced and rather unhappy at the thought. He clearly had other ideas on his mind.

"I'll show you where the dining room is if you like and you can bring your man up breakfast in bed", said Beth. "This old place is bigger and more complicated than you may think".

The unspoken communications were flashing between her and Sarah again at an unnerving speed. Somehow Sarah felt sure that Beth's comparatively early morning visit to carry out her duties was carefully calculated. She felt like hugging her.

Sarah's huge smile told Beth that she had got it right.

"Thank you Beth, We'd love to take you up on that", she said.

The breakfast she brought back for Peter was old fashioned and ample. Leaving Peter 'tucked and tucking in' as she put it, she popped downstairs to make a quick telephone call to David. It was as difficult as she expected. Desperately, she kept the level of conversation inconsequential - just small talk.

The kids were all right, their weekend visits to friends arranged according to the list Sarah had left pinned up in the kitchen. Everything was completely normal. She didn't want to ring off. Something was wrong. If only she could say what she wanted to say. Knowing she couldn't, with a sinking feeling in her stomach, she said her goodbyes and rang off.

Slumping forwards, she pressed her forehead against the old cold stone wall of the phone booth, feeling a great fatigue wash over her.

The computer viruses that she knew were in her portable computer should have been transmitted to the network computer when Peter used her terminal in their bedroom the night before.

Due to its' 24 hour operating environment, the viruses should by now be well established at his computer centre and be causing mayhem. With Peter's access codes all over them, his dismissal from his job was automatic. Security probably wouldn't have even let him back in to collect his personal things from his desk. His pass would have been instantly revoked.

Sarah's plan, had been conceived privately in desperation soon after her visit to the youth when she had received the final ultimatum from the Liquidator followed closely by a final warning about their home mortgage arrears..

The logic was simple. If Peter lost his job then her husband David would be called in as the second in command at the computer centre to sort matters out.

He would then be in an ideal position to get promoted into Peter's job – or at very least he would be getting lots of overtime. She had never been formally introduced to David's boss. There was no reason why he should know anything about her. Even the name she had used as they got to know each other on the park bench was not hers.