Always had been.At last, I thought as I saw my dear friend Samantha was coming down the escalator, carrying her oversized suitcase. The years had definitely been kind to her. At thirty-seven, she was tall and remained slim even after having two children. She was dressed in a white vest top, flowery skirt and sandals and had her brunette hair in a loose plait.When she saw me, she shouted out, “Hey Heather, there you are,” and bounded down to meet me.We hugged like the old friends we were. It had been a year since our last meeting, a long weekend in New York, where we shopped till we dropped. This year we had decided to head off to the Amalfi Coast. We had booked into a lovely apartment in Positano for the weekend and were looking forward to a catch up under the sun.The flight was early but it meant we would be on the beach just after lunch. We treated ourselves to a bottle of champagne on the flight while we caught up on what we had been up to over the past twelve months.We checked. David sighed and followed.Along darkened Downing Street they walked until they came to s small flight of stairs down to a basement door. His guide knocked, and the door opened a crack. Light streamed out. "Yes?" queried a woman's voice. "It's the American Gent, Ma'am — Colonel Ogilvy."The door opened wider and David was ushered in. "Come in, come in" The woman encouraged. "Welcome to Number 1 Storey's Gate — or 'The Dungeon' to its inmates" she laughed. In the light of the flickering globe David recognised his welcomer. "Miss Ive, a pleasure to meet you" "Ooo, aren't you a saucey one!" she simpered as he took her hand and kissed it! "My mum warned me about you Yanks. You can call me Ruth."David had met Ruth two days earlier, when she had come to the American Embassy to confirm David's appoinment. Her looks were nothing to write home about; an aging spinster, was his first assessment. As they had bantered, while he signed various papers she needed, they had bantered, and she had.
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