"Cheeky cow!" Belle called back as Taz chugged the lawnmower around the lawn. "Need a drink indeed. Phah!" She watched in some fear, as Taz drove past the pool. "You Ain't Lyndon B Johnson, you know?" She yelled out as the girl changed direction almost at the last moment. The oblique reference was to the former president owning an amphibious car with which he would terrify guests by driving it into his pool. She cringed as a flower bed got the same treatment as the lawn, but honestly, she was more concerned about the damage to the blades than the flowers. Flowers grow back after all and are relatively cheap. Mower blades don't and aren't.<br/><br/>Belle took great delight in calling out "You missed a bit!" and pointing, then watching as Taz went around again over that spot. Finally it was done and the little tractor was back in its shed. Belle watched as (to quote Douglas Adams) Taz' face did that terrible slow crashing trick that icebergs do so spectacularly in the spring. She nodded. The kid was a good kid, she'd had it hard is all. Ellen's report would be with her in a couple of days. Belle wasn't always into younger women, but Ellen Ferston was a former lover who had a successful business as a P.I. She was some twenty years younger than Belle, and they had shared a bed about ten years ago after her brother had hired Ellen to find out where she was getting her money, and Ellen had earned her fee the easy way by simply asking Belle outright. Belle had replied that she would be happy to show the young lady, but she would have to sleep with her first. The relationship had lasted a while, only ending because Ellen had to go abroad for a year. When she came back they had both moved on.<br/><br/>But the point was, Taz did not deserve to be treated like the shit on the sole of society's boot. Once again, Belle felt the pang of guilt. They had done what they could... Or had they? Would it have made any difference if Belle had done the same as Tina, given it all to charity and gone to live on a hippy commune? Tina's wealth hadn't made the blindest bit of difference, the charities she donated it to had squandered it on nice offices and new computers. Tracy had the right idea, living high off the hog in Monaco, bedding a new partner every night (or so she would have you believe; the woman was as old as Belle, and probably just as fragile). She felt no guilt.<i>Damn it all to fucking hell...!</i>"Stay for lunch. Well, I s'pose it's a bit fuckin' late for lunch, but I had a late breakfast. And I bet you didn't have any breakfast at all, hmm?"<br/><br/>She heaved a sigh and led the way back into the kitchen. "You can't go yet anyway. Your clothes aren't dry, you'll catch your death if you put them on like that!" She grinned. She couldn't help but catch glimpses of the skinny body under the robe that kept falling open. Far too skinny for Belle's taste, but still pretty. "So, food. I've had a delivery since last week and the young man very kindly put everything away for me. So it's all in the wrong cupboards. Here we go." She pulled a couple of pork chops out of the fridge, found the powdered mashed potato, and a packet of frozen peas from the freezer. "Going to have to put some flesh on those bones of yours, sweetie."<br/><br/>The endearment slipped out without Belle even noticing she'd said it. She set about preparing the food herself, this time, giving Taz the occasional job to do.