She ridiculed him when he tried to explain his behaviour as a midnight tryst.

“Grow up!” she has exclaimed, “get your head out of your arse and get in the real world.” As she finished, she handed him the broom and mop as was her way when he displeased her.

He accepted his punishment for that was how he saw it; took all her derision, in the same way, preferring to suffer the humiliation of her words in silence because fighting back was a recipe for disaster he had found.

But in his mind, he knew what he had witnessed, and tomorrow night he would go there again for she had said she would be waiting for him.

In the mists beside the stream at the bottom of the garden, she had appeared. At first, he thought he was dreaming but she came up close, so close he could smell…