“I’m looking forward to meeting Cousin Lizzie, at some point,” said Hal, as they relaxed back in Ben’s garden.

“She’s a scream,” said Melanie, “but I’m not letting her near either of you until I have had my wicked way with you both.”

“Mel, sweetheart,” cried Ben, going down on his knees. “How could you doubt our fidelity for a moment?”

They all laughed at the ham acting.

“I don’t doubt you for a moment, noble sirs,” said Melanie. “I don’t doubt you for this moment at least, because you haven’t feasted your eyes on my dear cousin. Then, I’m sorry boys, doubt will rule in spades!”

“Wow!” said Hal. “Matey, we’re in the presence of goddess Melanie, and she is telling us there is another higher up the divine chain.”

“So, what’s Lizzie’s story?” asked Ben. “What happened to Mr Lizzie? Was he a naughty boy like Eamon?”

“Frobisher has been naughty, yes,” replied Melanie. “He has been very silly and has trashed our marriage. If it weren’t for meeting you two I would be in a very big mess now. Frobisher’s naughtiness pales into the background against the nefarious deeds of the former Mr Lizzie. His name was Brendan. I mention that to warn you not to use that name in her presence.”

“Brendan didn’t have one tart, he had three. He had a very busy calendar indeed. At least until Harriet Green presented her report.”

“Oh my God!” said Ben.

“What did she do?” asked Hal, in slightly fearful tone.

“She put him in hospital for three weeks.”

Hal and Ben listened in shock.

“What happened to her?” asked Hal.

“Nothing at all, darling, nothing at all. She didn’t lay a finger on him.”

The men looked puzzled.

“She got his three lady friends together and gave them each a copy of Harriet’s report.”

It was nearly eight o’clock when Melanie got home. The memory of her beautiful men, the giving and receiving of orgasmic pleasure, filled her whole being. The promise of that which was to follow, after the dismissal of Frobisher, filled her with excitement. Thinking of what Hal had said earlier, she turned on the oven and uncovered the food mixer.

Eamon Frobisher crept into the kitchen. The house was quiet, for which he was thankful. It was nearly eleven but if the times he had given his wife earlier had been adhered to, it should have been an hour, or more, earlier. The delights of Carrie Fawcett, and some of the things she enjoyed, had delayed him yet again.

He saw a dome covered plate and a note on the table.

‘Darling, you’ve probably eaten but a couple of your favourite cheese and pancetta scones if you’re peckish. Going to bed (9.00) and will probably fall asleep.’

Eamon couldn’t believe his luck. He poured himself a nightcap and sat down to enjoy his scones. It was then that he noticed the picture.

‘For our amazing teacher with our grateful thanks – Hal and Ben, her admiring students at the Melanie Mackenzie Academy for aspiring chefs.’

How sweet,” he said out loud, as he looked at the smiling faces of Gregg and Derek. “Thank you gentlemen,” he said, raising his glass, “keep her looking the wrong way for me, please?”

“Mackenzie, not Frobisher,” he mused for a moment, before dismissing the thought.

Eamon came to and began to rouse himself, with some huge yawns. He discovered another cold mug of tea by his bedside; and of his wife, no sign. Looking out of their bedroom window he saw her marching toward the greenhouse.

“Don’t make the same mistake, Eamon old boy,” he said.

“Good morning darling,” he called, as he approached her sanctum. “I have brought you a fresh mug of tea.”

“Thank you Eamon, that’s sweet of you.”

“You’re the sweet one Mel. Thank you for my scones last night; that was a real treat.”

“What time did you get home dear; I was dead to the world.”

“Delay at Darlington, so it was after ten.”

'Technically true,'  thought Melanie. 'After eleven is also after ten.'

“You poor thing, you must be exhausted after such a hard week. You must relax today, if you can. What would you like this evening? I wondered about a barbeque, unless you would like me to do a Beef Wellington and a salad?”

“That’s a lovely idea Mel, thank you. I think I really fancy cooking us some juicy sirloins. I’ll light the charcoal about five, does that sound okay with you?”

“Perfect. I’ll nip out shortly and get the meat. I’ll also get something for you to enjoy tomorrow. I’m sorry, my darling, it’s my turn to desert you. My lovely students are going to attempt to roast a leg of lamb and they want me to join them for Sunday Lunch. They’ve invited you as well, but I told them you would probably have some follow up work to do after Edinburgh before you went in on Monday. Did you see the picture I’ve been given?”

“Yes, I did sweetheart. They look like very nice blokes and I think it’s a lovely thing you’re doing for them. Thank you, though, I think I’d rather be excused.”

“Oh, I know you would, I know you would,” said Melanie to herself.

“I think I will wander down to the ‘Drover’s’ and dig into the carvery. Haven’t done that for a bit. What time are you going out do you think?”

‘You’re not doing the carvery tomorrow, either,’ thought Melanie.

“They have heard of ‘tunnel boning’ and want to try it. I’ve told them in no uncertain terms that they don’t begin until I get there. There’s too much of a risk that we all spend the afternoon in A&E. So, I’ll go out about ten thirty. I’m sorry darling, but don’t expect me back before five at the earliest.”

“That’s fine darling, don’t worry, I’ll find something to do.”

‘Or, someone,’ thought Melanie. The grin consuming Eamon’s face could not begin to be disguised.

“I’ll just check we’ve enough charcoal,” said Eamon.

“Don’t worry dear,” said Melanie, “we’ve enough to see us through the rest of Summer. No need to trek over to B&Q, just relax.” She rejoiced in the disappointment that replaced his grin.

“I’m going over to the Farm Shop on the Ripley Road,” said Melanie, half an hour later. “Their beef is just so much better, and you deserve the best my darling. I’ll also stop at Majestic and pick up some more wine. I’ll be about an hour and a half, I suppose.”

Melanie smiled to herself, as she saw Eamon’s face brighten.

“If you can get the lawns cut in that time, I‘ll do the edges when I get back. Is that okay?”

“Yes, darling, that’s fine,” replied Eamon brightly, as his hopes were once more dashed.

“Two can play these games, Frobisher,” she said aloud as she drove away from the house.

Fifteen minutes later she pulled onto Hal’s drive.

“The meat’s ‘Aberdeen Angus’ and aged twenty-eight days, just as madam requested,” said Hal, proudly producing the results of his errand. “I picked some for me and Ben, as well.”

“Well done, you gorgeous man,” said Melanie, with a huge grin. She swayed across to him, peeling her top off as she moved.

Thirty-five minutes later she arrived at Ben’s. He was waiting.

“I’ve only just got back,” he said laughing. “Someone’s had a bump at the Moor Lane roundabout. It’s causing traffic chaos.”

“Oh no! That’s terrible, I’m going to be held up getting back home, aren’t I?”

“I plan to make sure of it,” said Ben. “I’ll put the case straight into your car, shall I? I picked some extra up for us to have with the lamb tomorrow.”

Forty-five minutes later Melanie was fastening her bra for the third time that morning.

“I think I’ve had a bit more time than Hal, haven’t I darling?”

“Thanks to whoever bumped who, at Moor Lane,” said Melanie. “I don’t think he will mind. Besides, if all goes well this week, it isn’t going to be long before the covers are off, so to speak.”

Eamon had finished the lawns and deadheaded the roses. Looking at his watch he realized that nearly two hours had passed. He sat in the kitchen making coffee and listening to local radio.

Ten minutes later he heard his wife’s car pull up and he went out to meet her.

“Sorry, I’ve been so long darling,” Mel called.

“I heard on the radio about chaos around Moor Lane,” said Eamon. “Did you get caught up in that lot?”

“I did,” said Melanie, silently thanking Ben for the intelligence. “I’ve been diverted down roads I didn’t know existed. Did they say on the radio exactly what happened?”

“HGV bumped a bus. Big vehicles and some minor injuries equal lots of ambulances. Police measuring everything equals chaos,” said Eamon.

Eamon carried the wine into the kitchen while Melanie put the steaks in the fridge.

At four o’clock Melanie began preparing some salads while Eamon was assembling his utensils.

‘Once upon a time, Frobisher, you used to get very frisky when we had a barbeque,’ mused Melanie to herself in the kitchen. ‘I hope you don’t today.’

With that thought in mind she opened a bottle of Corbierre for him.

“Start him off early and get him drowsy in the sun. That’ll curb him,” she said, as she walked out into the garden with a glass and the full bottle.

Eamon’s thoughts were the opposite.

‘Hope Mel doesn’t start to suggest sex,’ he thought to himself as he saw her walking across the lawn.

The steaks were superb.

“Mel, these were a delight to cook,” said Eamon. “They’re so tender and almost melt in the mouth. Why can’t you get meat as good as this in supermarkets?”

“I sometimes see it,” replied Melanie. “Most beef is hung for twenty-one days, this has been hung for twenty-eight. Hanging the extra improves it but it loses about another fifteen percent in weight. That cuts the profit so you rarely see it in a supermarket.”

They chatted easily but Melanie knew their conversations lacked spark. She imagined the fun and laughter that would accompany a barbeque with Ben and Hal.

“I rang Lizzie earlier,” said Melanie. “I’m going over to her for a few days on Wednesday. Will you be alright on your own?”

It was all Eamon could to stop a huge grin exploding over his face; but Melanie saw the flash of excitement.

“I’ll manage, darling, don’t you worry. Is she alright?”

“There’s a man in trouble,” replied Melanie.

“Oh dear! I feel a bit sorry for the bloke,” said Eamon. “Your cousin has always scared me a bit,” he said, with a laugh.

“Be afraid, Frobisher, be very afraid,” Melanie said to herself.

Sunday morning saw a complete change in the weather.

“You better take an umbrella to the ‘Drover’s’, dear,” said Melanie. “I’m off in a minute.”

“I’ll get some indigestion tablets out for you,” said Eamon.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll need those, dear. Remember I shall be supervising.”

Eamon gave his wife a fifteen minute start, just in case she had forgotten anything and turned back. He too, then left the house. Twenty minutes later he parked on the drive of Carrie’s house on Swaledale Crescent. He saw that the front door was open, but there was no sign of Carrie. He shivered in anticipation.

“Stand still!” Carrie’s command rang out from upstairs, as he walked into the hall.

“Take off your clothes,” the voice rang out. “Tell me when you are naked,”

“I am naked, Carrie!”

“Put on the blindfold that’s on the table by the phone. Then kneel down,” commanded the voice.

Eamon obeyed and moved so that he was against the lowest stair. He heard footsteps on the stairs. He sensed Carrie getting very close to him. He could feel her body heat, but kept his hands clasped firmly behind his back.

“Going off script for a moment, darling,” Carrie whispered to him. “I’ve got some new toys to play with. Safe word is ‘Edinburgh’.” Carrie squatted down and kissed him sensually on the lips. Then she stood on the first stair.

“Pleasure me!” she commanded.

Eamon didn’t resist as she pulled his face into her crotch. He ignored the discomfort caused by the angle of his neck. He lapped, licked, sucked and thrust with his tongue. He kept going. His only desire, to please his lover.

“Enough, for now!  “Take off your blindfold, Eamon. It is time for you to be questioned,” Carrie intoned.

“Yes, Carrie,” said Eamon.

“Stand!”

With Carrie on the bottom stair they were at eye level with each other.

“Eamon Frobisher! Have you fucked your wife since you were last questioned?”

“No Carrie, I have been obedient to your wishes.”

“Have you had any sexual contact with her? Have you touched her naked flesh or felt her body through her clothes?”

“No, I have not.”

“Has she attempted to seduce you by sun bathing naked again, or wearing sexy lingerie?”

“No, she has not.”

“Have you masturbated?”

“No, I have not.”

“Who owns your penis?”

“You do, Carrie.”

“Yes, I do my darling, don’t I?”

"You reckon that she won't be back before five?"

"That's what she said, but I don't think I should push it. I ought to be back by four."

"That all depends on whether I've finished with you, doesn't it?" said Carrie, with a devilish grin. "I have some deliciously wicked things on my mind, Eamon my sweet."

"Oh goodie," said Eamon.

"I've even thought of lunch," said Carrie. "It won't be up to the 'Drover's’ standard though, I'm afraid."

"Now! Follow upstairs very, very closely, but no touching until I tell you. If you do, even by accident, then you go home later with your balls still full of spunk. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Carrie,"

Carrie turned then got down on to her hands and knees. They had played this game before, and Eamon followed in a similar crawl so that his face was inches away from her enticing pussy. She demanded that she be able to feel his breath as they crawled.  He was careful only to move after she had moved forward. He remembered the time when he had, indeed, been sent home without having come.

At the top of the stairs, Carrie stopped. She had her elbows on the floor and her knees eighteen inches apart. Eamon gazed at her open pussy and the little rosebud that almost seemed to be winking at her.

“Okay Boss, your PA wants some very personal attention. Get that tongue of yours working now!”

When Melanie arrived at Hal’s she was thrilled to find her boys had tunnel boned their joint successfully.

“We watched a YouTube video,” explained Ben. “We both did bits of it to get the feel for boning.”

“Gentlemen! Where now are the two timid souls who were on the verge of trying to roast brisket not all that many weeks ago? You’ve made the leap into exploring things and you have done so with enthusiasm. You are making me feel so proud.”

“Yeah!” cried Hal and Ben, as they high-fived.

“I told Frobisher I had to leave early because you wanted to experiment with boning. I said I didn’t want to spend the afternoon in A&E. He gets to spend more time with the tart and I am in a much more convivial place. However boys, I have to announce that our more carnal activities are curtailed for the next three or four days. In practice that means until after I return from Lizzie’s.”

“We simply rejoice in your presence darling,” said Ben. “How do you see things playing out in the week?” he went on.

“Tomorrow morning I’m seeing Harriet Green at ten o’clock. I want different evidence than my recording of our Facetime conversations. A lot depends then on how soon Frobisher and the Tart get on with providing it. I’m seeing your Brother-in-law on Tuesday morning, Ben. He has been in touch with Harriet and she has said she’ll get cracking as soon as we have had our meeting tomorrow. She is going to phone me at Lizzie’s if she gets an early bite.”

“Mel, why doesn’t Eamon just come clean and ask for a divorce?” asked Hal.

“He has expectations of being made MD when the current incumbent announces his retirement. That’s on the cards any time. He is certainly a very strong candidate, in fact he seems to be the favourite. He certainly has worked hard and helped the company to grow significantly. The Chairman, though, is a staunch Methodist Lay Preacher. A divorce, especially, one tainted with infidelity on his part, will torpedo his chances.”

“You planning a shipwreck for him, then?” asked Ben.

“No. I am better off in the sort of settlement I shall be looking for if he carries on up the ladder. Lizzie has researched these things. I certainly keep the house, it was mine before I met him. Mum and Dad transferred it to me when I was twenty-one. The trust they set up at the same time has paid for all the maintenance. They gave their property in Cumbria to my brother when they went to live on Skye. Everything is now well clear of inheritance tax.”

“Should we tie the lamb before roasting?” asked Hal.

“If you were using a ‘wet’ stuffing, such as vegetables, then yes. They would ooze out, otherwise. The sprigs of Rosemary and garlic cloves aren’t going anywhere, so don’t bother. The meat will hold its shape, more or less, in the roasting tin.”

“Go for it guys, it’s looking good.”

Two hours later the aromas were driving them all mad with anticipation.

Hal lifted the lamb from the oven with an almost reverential display.

“I want a photo of you two with the meat on its dish, please,” said Melanie.

“Oh, you have to be in the shot as well, love,” said Hal. “Jane bought a selfie stick for a laugh last year when we went to London for a long weekend. I’ll fetch it.”

The two men carried everything into the dining room, then escorted Melanie to her seat.

“This is so very special guys, thank you,” said Melanie. “You’ve not simply cooked us a beautiful meal, but you have taken so much care over the detail of the table. Miss Mackenzie is very impressed with her star students. I very much doubt that Frobisher will dine as well today, assuming the tart has thought of food at all. Could be awkward for him, though, if he’s feeling ravenous later, after a supposedly big lunch at the ‘Drover’s’, and I catch him scoffing.”

Over at Swaledale Crescent, the microwave oven dinged, announcing the ‘Lasagne al forno’ to be cooked. As Carrie set the carton to stand, Eamon took the garlic baguettes from the oven.

“I called in at the Drover’s yesterday, boss. I asked about their specials for today. Lasagne was one of the options so that’s what we’re having now.”

"You clever sly little thing you,” said Eamon.

“I hope, my darling,” said Carrie, “that one day soon, I will cook a proper Sunday Lunch for us. In the meantime, this will have to do. It should help keep the ‘Silly Cow’ in the dark, anyway.”

Eamon was not comfortable with Melanie being referred to in this way, but he knew protest might lead to him returning home with blue balls.

“Mel, we watched another way of using a tunnel boned joint,” said Hal. “An Aussie chef cut it and opened it out for barbequing.”

Melanie thought about the prospect for a few moments.

“It’s got to be fiery and spectacular, with all the fat lamb meat has, but awesome. Let’s plan it guys! It’s too much for just the three of us, though. Sounds like a party in the making.”

Melanie arrived home just before six. She had wanted to give Eamon plenty of time to get home before her. It was important he had no reason to think she harboured any suspicions.

“How was your lunch?” Eamon asked, cheerfully.

“Absolutely superb and no danger of having to cart them off to A&E. They’re getting quite confident about what they can tackle. How was the ‘Drover’s?”

“Not as busy as usual. I had Lasagne al Forno. It was very nice.”

“I can smell the garlic from here,” said Melanie.

The following morning Melanie presented herself at Harriet Greene’s office.

“My husband is having an affair with his PA,” said Melanie, coming straight to the point after the pleasantries had been observed. She continued with how her suspicions had developed, his lack of attention to her and the tracking of his phone.

“Circumstantial you could say,” she continued, “but these clips I recorded of our Facetime conversations are not.”

“Oh my giddy aunt!” declared Harriet. “That’s priceless.”

“It just feels like it was intended as a gesture at me,” said Melanie.

“I think you’re right, but it’s backfired wonderfully, if you’ll excuse the pun. So explain what you would like me to do.”

An hour later Melanie was showing Harriet Greene, and Vicki James her assistant, around her house.

“Vicki is an IT and electronics genius,” said Harriet.

“I’ve also been called a nerd, train spotter and anorak,” said the very cheerful and petite brunette. She was carrying an improbably large shopping bag.

“In my previous professional life on the force,” remarked Harriet, “I would have lifted Vicki ‘For going equipped…’ if I had stopped her with that bag. Now she’s a priceless gem. How long do you need, Vick?”

“If there’s some fresh coffee going in thirty minutes I shall be a happy bunny,” she replied.

“Come on then Melanie, we’ll leave her to evil tricks.”

True to her word, Vicki was finished in her self-allotted time.

“When I’ve been re-activated by this coffee,” said Vicki, “I’ll head back to the office. I’ve already set most things up there but I will phone you Mel, when I’m ready. Then I want you to go outside and let yourself in by the front door when I say so. I will then ask you to walk around parts of the house to test all the stuff. It’s triggered by movement. When I’m satisfied everything’s set up right I’ll turn it off. Then it will go back on again on Wednesday morning when you go to your cousin.”

“We’re on Plan B,” said Melanie. “I’m going to Lizzie tomorrow afternoon, after I’ve seen Robert. As far as he is concerned, I’m going in the morning. If you get results, then I shall be back, with Lizzie in tow, on Friday.”

“Oh, we’ll have results, alright,” said Harriet. “That little girl wants her prey, and she wants him in your bed.”

An hour later, Melanie opened her front door. She was wearing earphones and listening to Vicki’s instructions.

“That’s fine, Mel. Now just walk toward the stairs and head for the spare room.”

“Super, that’s all coming through fine. Sit on the bed for a moment. Now move to your own room.”

“This all feels a bit weird,” said Melanie. “It’s as if I’m choreographing my husband’s infidelity.”

“He’ll do that for himself. We’re just anticipating where they might do it. All the cameras are picking up.”

“I can’t see any of them. It’s difficult to believe they’re there.”

“Do something with one of your hands.”

Melanie balled her left hand into a fist and punched the pillow.

“You just punched the pillow with your left fist, but not with enough feeling if you were pretending it was your husband.”

“Now, on the bed again. Now roll off and go into your bathroom.”

“Super, thank you, Mel. We’re getting everything nice and clear. I’ll email the clip to you so you can check you can open that sort of file. I’m turning everything off now but we’ll turn it back on after you leave tomorrow morning. Just give me a call.”

“Thanks, Vicki,” said Melanie.

That evening, Eamon worked at his desk after dinner while Melanie sat out in her Summer House. She had her battered copy of the ‘Larousse Gastronomique’ with her and was exploring it for ideas for Hal and Ben. At eight o’clock she saw Eamon walking toward her carrying a bottle and a glass.

‘Just one glass,’ thought Melanie, to herself. ‘What happened to sitting together in an evening, Frobisher?’

“I’ve brought you a chilled Mosel, Darling. I thought I would stroll down to the ‘Drover’s’ for a pint. You’re welcome to come with me if you like?”

“Thank you for the wine, darling. You go off to the pub and unwind. You’re working very hard these days. I’m happy here and I don’t feel like getting changed. I’ll probably go to bed early. Once I’m with Lizzie tomorrow we’ll be talking all night.”

(To be continued, Part Six is written and follows soon)