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Hannah looking serious as she planted a shrub in the garden. Sammy looking wickedly amused behind her, wearing lurid sunglasses and a skimpy green tank top, belly button showing, the rose tattoo clearly visible on her shoulder. Ah yes, the tattoo… that's what started it all really. I slowly closed the album and sipped my scotch, letting my thoughts drift back three, no, four years to that fateful day… * * * * * "All right, Mr Clements?" I looked up from my newspaper and smiled as Sammy bounced into the living room alongside Hannah. "That time already is it?" I said, casting a glance at the mantelpiece clock which indicated just after 4.15. "School okay, was it?" "It was school," muttered Hannah, undoing her tie and flopping down into an armchair, grabbing the remote and flicking the TV on, rapidly scrolling through all the satellite channels in ten seconds flat.
"That's the Sixth Form for you," I said, "The work gets harder." "It wasn't too bad. Had Double Maths last thing though," trilled Sammy, plopping down onto the couch next to me, just slightly too close as she always did, and then shifting along further. "You had a good day, Mr Clements?" I couldn't help but look down her open blouse, catching a glimpse of a pink, lacy bra beneath. As if sensing this (sensing? She knew!!!), Sammy loosened her tie a bit more to allow more of her cleavage to be shown. She wasn't a tart, not like some of the girls of her age at the school, but she was well aware of her charms – and why not? She was extremely attractive.