She wasn't a prima ballerina. In the theatre programme the hierarchy was clear. There were Principals, First Soloists, Soloists, First Artists and, f...nally, plain Artists. Harry took the pragmatic view that there would be too much competition for the favours of a Principal. He reasoned that even a humble Artist would bring to bed a suppleness most women could never aspire to. Access to an Artist wasn't easy but Harry had a stroke of luck. Marina was an Artist. She was twenty-three and she. The old fashion bell chimed as she walked in. There was no one there. Tentatively, Julia pressed the button on top of the silver bell on the clean counter. “Be right there,” a deep male voice came from somewhere behind the counter and through a door. Julia glanced around the office while she waited for the voice. It was neat and clean, but in need of a serious decor upgrade. The furniture looked well cared for, but from the 50s. The same could be said of the wallpaper. She wandered to a. More

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