“Ten.” I say.
“Eight.” Anthea says.
“Agreed.” I say.
“And not by you, by a teacher?”
“Agreed. But I get to watch.”
“Agreed.” She says.
“Hold on.” Sara protests.
“Shut up!” Anthea snaps.
“State of dress?” I query.
“Trousers, of course.” Anthea replies.
“You’d cheat.” I counter.
“Alright, knickers then.”
“And this goes for both of you?” I cast a doubtful eye in Sara’s direction.
“Yes.” Anthea agrees.
“No.” Sara doesn’t.
“Trust me, it will be both of us.” Anthea says firmly, and yanks Sara to her feet. “We must go.”
“Okay, I’ll make the arrangements and catch up with you later.” I say. “Presumably tonight would be good for you?”
“That’s fine.” Anthea says as she leads Sara from the room, just as the bell sounds to announce lunch.
Now, I’m in a bit of a quandary.