Liz stared at Christine and Tom with a glaikit look on her face.

`Stewart's very fussy about his wine. I suppose the more you know about something the fussier you tend to be.'

Christine almost got the dry boaks.

`I never bother with the names, I just go straight to the alcohol content. If it's more than 12.5 it's a good wine, if it's less than 10.5 it's a bad wine, if it's Liebfra:umilch it's no' a wine at all,' chuckled Tom.

Stewart guffawed falsely, Liz gave Tom a look of pity which made Christine want to smash her in the face. Instead she took a gulp of the bitter wine which tasted beautiful. Stewart leaned back in his chair theatrically, smirked at Tom and made a farty noise with his lips.

`Yes, we noticed you both when you first arrived. You did look a bit expectant but you weren't really what we were anticipating so we thought we'd wait and see. What line of work did you say you were in again?' `Computers. I sell computers.'

Stewart nodded his head in silent contemplation. Liz touched Christine's wrist to get her attention. Christine shuddered and reached for the glass to escape her.

`Yes Christine, Stewart thought it might be you but we weren't expecting you till a bit later.'

`Or do you like to be unfashionably early? Unorthodox types are you?' and he roared with laughter again. Christine wished she found him as amusing as he found himself. She'd be pishing herself if she did. She attempted a put-down but it came out shite.

`We needed some Dutch courage. We don't actually make a habit out of this sort of thing.'

`Nor do we dear, nor do we,' reassured Stewart, `we already have a network of couples we've been seeing for years, you know, individually or in groups.' `We just thought it was time to give a few fresh faces a chance,' squeaked Liz as if she was talking about a Salvation Army fund raiser. Tom was almost drooling in contemplation. It sickened her.

`So there's quite a lot, you know, of this sort of thing about?'

Liz giggled in her dulcet fingernails-down-a-blackboard way and made a hey presto hand gesture to Stewart, Delphi Oracle of suburban wife-swapping that he was.

`Oh most definitely, Tom, you'd be surprised. I obviously don't want to go into too much detail until we know each other a bit better but I will say its not just a seasonal interest in William Wallace that brings visitors to the Stirling area these days.'

Christine actually managed a little giggle as the waitress arrived with the starters. She was resentfully extra-attentive, probably in fear of lashing out if the arsehole started again. Refilling the glasses she asked if there would be anything else. Stewart dismissed her by nodding his head and pointing behind his shoulder. The waitress remained stony-faced but caught Christine's eye. Christine nodded her head then looked into her broccoli and stilton soup with croutons.

Left alone Stewart recommenced. As he camply picked at his chicken livers he looked Tom earnestly in the eye. `We have about thirty people in the Stirling area alone. Usually there'll be a group of about six couples and we just take it in turns to host parties.' `What, you mean like orgies?' mumbled Tom through a mouthful of prawns, tomato mayonnaise appealingly adorning his top lip.

Stewart looked around self-consciously and lowered his voice.

`I suppose you could look at it that way, but it's a lot more sophisticated than the usual communal bump and grind, you know, live shows, games, that sort of thing.'

`We have an excellent version of charades,' exploded Liz, brimming with fundamentalist verve. Tom whooped with laughter and looked at Christine in a how-about-these-guys sort of way. She had to close her eyes to block out his sycophancy. `Wow wow wee!' he exclaimed wildly once he'd swallowed his prawns.

`It's a social thing too, Tom, that's the great thing,' encouraged Liz, `you know, a few nice bottles of wine, quiche, pavlova, a fondue . . .'

This couple were ludicrous. Christine was a heathen but she was sure that the sexual act had not been designed with this sort of thing in mind. She couldn't let them think she was taken in by this crap.

`And what about your sex life in general? How is that?' `I don't really think that's any of our business, booby joe,' whispered Tom.

`No no, Tom, it's all right,' Stewart interjected, completely unperturbed. `In answer to your question, my dear, our sex life is absolutely wonderful simply because this is our sex life. Sex is a beautiful thing which you shouldn't waste by attempting when you're tired or not in the mood.'

`You really think so?' said Tom, onto something. `Oh definitely, limiting sex to our little get togethers is excellent time management and it means the get-togethers themselves are all the more enjoyable. Everyone needs a little carrot to dangle in front of them.'

Christine spluttered. The insightful Liz elaborated. `Imagine if people gave you presents every day of the year. Christmas wouldn't be half as exciting, don't you think!'

This pair were emotionally retarded.

`Personally Christmas ceased to be something I got excited about when I was about seven years old.' `Well I must say I feel sorry for you, however, I think it proves our point,' said Stewart.

`Oh yes, you've certainly got me beat with a strong argument like that,' spat Christine, thrusting her glass out in front of her. Tom frowned at her as he poured.

`Calm down, honey pie. What's wrong with you?' Christine grabbed her glass back, took a slug and folded her arms into a huffing position. Tom immediately turned his attention back to Fred and Rosemary.

`I'm very sorry. Please excuse her. It'll be hormone replacement therapy for Christmas I think, anyway, back to these parties. What are the folk like? Obviously respectable people like yourself?' Christine exhaled dramatically but was immediately drowned out by the gushing Liz.

`Oh Tom, you wouldn't believe it doctors, policemen, advocates, teachers, intellectual lorry drivers. People that work in stressful environments. People like you and me.'

Tom was utterly enthralled. Christine was thoroughly appalled.

`And it's not a bit awkward like, trying to get these things going? How do you decide who goes first?' The waitress returned to clear away their starter dishes. Tom looked irritated at her intrusion. He was champing at the bit. Christine beckoned to the girl. `Excuse me, could you possibly find out if my pork's been prepared yet?'

`Oh yes, madam, it should be with you in a few minutes. Was there a problem?'

Too late, dammit. Her appetite had vanished. She just wanted away from this shit.

`No, thanks, that's fine, great, thanks, thanks very much.'

Christine wanted her to know she wasn't like Stewart but the waitress seemed equally unimpressed. Tom was looking at her a bit concerned but as soon as the girl disappeared he was all over the Rutherfords again. `So what, does somebody just strip off and say ¢come on then", or is it a names-in-a-hat sort of thing?' `No no no, Tom, we're talking about a very informal, very relaxed situation here. It's an anything-goes environment so if you're all broadminded consenting adults there's absolutely nothing to be nervous about.' They ought to be fucking locked up, thought Christine. Liz started up again. For a beaten-down little short-arse she certainly had a lot to say for herself though she was rather Ernie Wise to Stewart's Eric Morecambe. `And as Stewart said earlier there's all sorts of activities to loosen people up.'

`Such as?'

`Well, maybe we'll have a bit of a floor show, you know. We had one of our neighbours hoisted onto a Perspex pyramid her husband had designed, you know, full harness and everything? She had over a hundred orgasms.'

`And who told you this?' sang Christine, unable to suffer this nonsense in silence any more.

`She said so herself,' said Stewart defensively. `You see, Christine, it's not all tits and ass and cheesecake. You can even apply basic principles of engineering to it. Sex is much more multi-faceted than people often think.'

Tom wasn't finding this line of conversation as interesting.

`Anyway Stewart, back to these floor displays. This sounds really amazing. What sort of things are we talking about here?'

`Oh all sorts of things. We'll maybe watch a video one of the couples has made, or about six of the group will start a little performance to get us all in the mood, you know?'

`And we try out new sex toys,' said Liz, the words not quite gelling with the face they were coming out of. `And we exchange magazines, videos, get notes of things on the Internet. Swinging is international. Obviously though I can't go into too much detail on our first meeting.' He glowered across at Christine. She glowered back.

`Yes, leave the sacrificial lamb for next time.' `Ah yes, the lamb, the hazelnut and orange stuffing looks exquisite,' blanked Stewart as the waitress arrived with the main courses. Tom turned to Christine as they were being served.

`What the hell is your problem?'

Christine gulped down her wine defiantly and proffered her glass again. The waitress summoned the waiter to open the other bottle.

`You've had plenty. Don't have any more, right. Stop making an arse of yourself, OK, just sort it out!' He turned back to the Rutherfords. `Honestly, I've never seen her like this before. I don't know what's wrong with her.'

`Lack of discipline,' said Stewart, sounding like Leslie Phillips, slimy bastard.

The waiter schlooped the cork out of the bottle and filled Christine's glass. Liz looked over, confused as to how anyone could possibly be unpleasant to the wank she was married to.

`Do you want to pop into the ladies' for a little chat, dear?'