Free Country Pursuits by Jo Carnegie

exclaimed, and ran out of the room.
    â€˜Who’s Sam?’ boomed Angus.
    â€˜Sam is Calypso’s new boyfriend, and Angus, you
must
behave around him!’ implored Camilla. ‘Don’t challenge him to arm-wrestle you or anything! Calypso is frightfully keen on him.’
    Angus gave Sniffer and Horse a knowing look. ‘As if we would.’ They turned to face the door of the living room like everyone else, awaiting the new arrival.
    Camilla could hear Calypso giggling coquettishly in the hall. Suddenly she appeared in the doorway, looking flushed and excited. ‘Everybody, I’d like you to meet my lover, Sam!’ she announced and pulled Sam in next to her. There was utter silence in the room, and then Camilla, as if in slow motion, dropped the glass she was holding.
    â€˜Bugger me!’ exclaimed Angus, open-mouthed. Even with the short spiky hair and oversized man’s shirt and jeans, there was no disguising the swell of breasts or the vaguely feminine face.
    Sam was a she, not a he.
    After an excruciating twenty seconds, Camilla realized how rude she must look, and managed to stop staring. Beside her Angus was making no such pretence; he was looking rather like a goggle-eyed fish as he gaped at the muscular, squat build, the multiple body-piercing and the leather dog-collar. For her part, Sam seemed remarkably unfazed by the reception, surveying the room with amused contempt.
    â€˜Sam, hi!’ Camilla trilled in what sounded to her like an unnaturally high voice. ‘I’m Camilla, Calypso’s sister and this is Caro, our other sister . . .’ She turned beseechingly to Caro, who looked like a rabbit caught in headlights.
    â€˜Hi!’
    â€˜I know who you are,’ replied Sam in a gruff, cockney accent. ‘Cal’s told me all about you.’
    Cal? thought Camilla. Dear God, had her sister been leading a double life? She managed to carry on with the introductions: ‘This is my dear friend Harriet, and my boyfriend Angus, and his friends Sniffer and Horse . . .’
    â€˜Are you a lezzer now, then?’ Angus asked Calypso.
    She gave him a scathing look. ‘Sam and I don’t define sexuality; we’re lovers and partners.’
    â€˜Look like a pair of rug-munchers to me!’ said Angus cheerfully, helping himself to another drink.
    â€˜Angus!’ hissed Camilla. Sam scowled at him. ‘Oh, it doesn’t bother me,’ said Angus. ‘As long as you promise to put on a girlie show later. Haw haw haw!’
    â€˜He’s only joking,’ Camilla said quickly, as Sam looked ready to throw the iron door stop at his head. ‘Don’t mind Angus, he’s just got, er, a very peculiar sense of humour.’
    Sam looked slightly pacified until Horse said in a stage-whisper to Angus, ‘Are you sure it’s a woman? It’s got a bigger neck than I have!’
    â€˜Champers time!’ announced Camilla brightly.
    A few hours later everyone had relaxed visibly. In fact, they were all so drunk they wouldn’t have noticed if the lemon meringue had come to life and started breathing. After several bottles of Bollinger, the eight of them had worked their way through copious amounts of an obscenely expensive red Angus had found in his wine cellar at home. They were now on extremely alcoholic Irish coffees, remnants of Brie and Camembert melting and oozing on a cheese board in the middle of the table.
    Caro was having her glass refilled by Sniffer for the umpteenth time and telling him she hadn’t had a shag in ages. ‘With my huzzband of course,’ she said unsteadily. ‘I’m not slutting it around. Babies, you know, once you have them you get all fat and your sex life goes up the sprout.’ She slapped a hand to her forehead. ‘I mean spout.’
    Sniffer, sensing a damsel-in-distress situation, leaned in. ‘You look pretty sexy to me, Mrs Belmont.’ He tried to blow cigar smoke