I prefer the Porsche,” she said. “I think it is a sensual looking car, in silver.”

“I must agree there,” said Max. “I had a Porsche once, I loved it.”

“We must go up to the offices first; I won’t be long, so make yourself at home, try the view over the back garden and beyond the mountains.”

Max was amazed at the back garden. It was set out in a formal way to lawns and shrubs just like in a stately home.

The end of the garden was the edge of the plateau, and so the view went on into the distance, to more mountains.

It was 9.00am; the sun was already hot through the glass. The automatic ventilation system opened the glazing further to admit the cool, fresh mountain air into the room.

A few minutes later Carla appeared holding a small leather case, chained to her wrist. She saw Max’s question, in his face; smiled and said, “Don’t ask,” so he didn’t.

They walked purposefully out to the waiting helicopter, its rotor blades just starting to turn. They climbed in, and the pilot checked they had strapped in properly.

He warned Max that the air turbulence was always a problem here and not to be alarmed, it was routine for him.

Max was excited at the prospect of the flight and with such a fine day, it should be amazing views, all the way.

The machine started to rise and drifted away from the building towards the roadway. Suddenly the updraft of air rising up the mountain and curling over the plateau, hit the craft.

Max watched every move the pilot made with interest. The pilot adjusted the controls and after a few seconds of lurching and bucking, rose smoothly into the crystal clear, blue sky.

The flight lasted an hour. It was hot in the cabin due to the sun, but Max hardly noticed, with the world stretched out below him.

They landed in a small clearing, and a car came to meet them. It took them to the city and set them down outside a large Bank.

The driver asked Carla to let her office know at least one hour before she wanted to be picked up. She nodded, being familiar with the routine.

“Wait here, just outside the Bank and I will just be a few minutes,” she said. Max did so without comment, though he was dying to know what it was all about.

The rest of the day was devoted to shopping and exploring. Carla loved the clothes and the more expensive they were, the better she looked in them, though she did not actually buy much. Max was happy to take in the sights; some of the old buildings were fascinating.

After a late snack, lunch, they planned to return and prepare for the evening. They set off for the town at about 7.00pm, the air was still warm even without the sun, another romantic evening thought Max looking up at the stars.

The Restaurant was quite busy; the smell of burning pine-wood tinged the air, from the open fire and grill. They sat at their table while complimentary drinks, and freshly toasted garlic bread, was served, with the menu.

There was a lot going on in the restaurant. A singer and his musicians set up their equipment on the stage and started playing.

“I know him,” said Carla. “He has a great voice and does Frank Sinatra very well.”

“How come?” Said Max.

“Just a ship that passed in the night” said she said, wishing she had not mentioned it.

The food arrived, so the subject was dropped.

“Don’t you want your drink?” Max asked.

“I don’t drink much anymore,” she replied rather subdued.

Then she looked at him and said firmly. “I am an alcoholic!”

Max was a bit shocked, not at the fact she had a drink problem, but at the way she said it. It was as if she wanted him to use it as an excuse, to walk out on her. He shrugged and said, “Well, I’m not bothered about drink either, so I’ll order water.”

The food was superb; they chatted about many things, but kept away from personal subjects.

During the singer’s break, he came over to their table and greeted Carla like an old friend. She responded warmly and introduced Max as a close friend. Peter, the singer was a tall and confident fellow, probably hugely popular with the women, thought Max.

Peter asked if Carla would join him on stage as a special favour to him, for old time's sake.

She agreed and said. “The usual?” He nodded.

She said. “I want a favour too.”

“OK!”

She whispered in his ear. He nodded again and said, “a bit different for this place, but just for you!”

Peter started singing again, and after the song, he announced he would perform a little duet with a friend of his, Miss Carla Day.

She calmly rose to the applause and walked confidently onto the stage. She sang as Nancy, and he sang as Frank Sinatra in “Saying something stupid, like I love you.” The two of them were perfect in pitch, timing, and actions, the audience loved it!

Max was amazed at her voice, the slight huskiness and wide vocal range made her a natural, and she could easily become a professional singer.

Carla announced that she would like to dedicate the next song to a special friend with her tonight. The audience looked around and settled on Max. Oh heck he thought, what’s coming next!

She sang, “I turn to you.” By Mel C of the Spice Girls, looking and sometimes pointing to Max to emphasise her meaning. Max was overcome with emotion, no one had done this for him before, and no one could have done it better. That’s Mel C out of a job he thought.

Carla left the stage ignoring the pleas for more and sat down smiling at Max. You’re a girl of many talents he said admiringly, I have always loved that slight huskiness in your voice, particularly when you speak softly.