Tin coming over to Simsbury next week to spend a few days with Tom," he read out in a monotone.

"That's great," replied Diane, "then let's hope we bump into each other." There certainly wasn't anything in the script about bumping into each other. He tried to read all ten questions at once.

"Are you still there, Nat?" asked Diane.

"Yes. Any hope of seeing you while I'm in Simsbury?" Question number nine.

"Yes, of course," said Diane, "I'd like thatvery much." "Goodbye," said Nat looking at answer number ten. During the rest of the evening, Nat tried to recall the conversation in detail, and even wrote it down line by line. He underlined SONS OF FORTUNE three times her words-yes, of course, I'd like that very much. As there were still four days before he was due to visit Tom, he wondered if he should call Diane again-just to confirm. He returned to Teen magazine to seek their advice, as they seemed to have anticipated all his previous problems.

Teen gave no help on calling a second time, but did suggest for a first date he should dress casually, be relaxed, and whenever he got the chance, talk about other girls he'd been out with. He'd never been out with another girl, and worse, he didn't have any casual clothes, other than a plaid shirt that he had hidden in a bottom drawer half an hour after he'd bought it. Nat checked to see how much money he'd saved from his paper route-seven dollars and twenty cents-and wondered if that was enough to purchase a new shirt and a casual pair of slacks. If only he had an older brother.

He put the finishing touches to his essay only hours before his father drove him across to Simsbury.

As they traveled north, Nat kept asking himself why he hadn't called Diane back and fixed a time and place to meet her. She might have gone away, decided to stay with a friend-a boyfriend. Would Tom's parents mind if he asked to use their phone the moment he arrived?

"Oh, my God," said Nat as his father swung his car into a long drive and drove past a paddock full of horses. Nat's father would have chastised him for blaspheming, but was somewhat taken aback himself. The driveway must have stretched for over a mile before they turned into a gravel courtyard to be greeted by the most magnificent white pillared colonial home surrounded by evergreens.

"Oh, my God," said Nat a second time.

This time his father did remonstrate with him."Sorry, Dad, but Tom never mentioned he lived in a palace."

"Why should he?" replied his father, "when it's all he's ever known. By the way, he's not your closest friend because of the size of his house, and if he had felt it was necessary to impress you, he would have mentioned it some time ago. Do you know what his father does, because one thing's for sure, he doesn't sell life insurance."

"I think he's a banker."

"Tom Russell, of course. Russell's Bank," said his father as they pulled up in front of the house.

Tom was waiting on the top step to greet them.

"Good afternoon, sir, how are you?" asked Tom as he opened the door on the driver's side.

"I'm well, thank you, Tom," replied Michael Cartwright as his son climbed out of the car, clinging to a small battered suitcase with the initials C. printed next to the lock.

"Would you care to join us for a drink, sir?"

"That's kind of you," said Nat's father, "but my wife will be expecting me back in time for supper, so I ought to be on my way."

Nat waved as his father circled the courtyard and began his return journey to Cromwell.

Nat looked up at the house to see a butler standing on the top step. He offered to take the suitcase, but Nat hung on to it as he was escorted up a magnificent wide circular staircase to the second floor, where he was shown into a guest bedroom. In Nat's home they only had one spare bedroom, which would have passed as a broom closet in this house. Once the butler had left him, Tom said, "When you've unpacked, come down and meet my mother. We'll be in the kitchen."

Nat sat at the end of one of the twin beds, painfully aware that he would never be able to invite Tom to stay with him.

It took Nat about three minutes to unpack as all he had were two shirts, one spare pair of trousers and a tie. He spent some considerable timechecking out the bathroom before finally bouncing up and down on the bed. It was so springy. He waited for a couple more minutes before he left the room to stroll back down the wide staircase, wondering if he would ever be able to find the kitchen. The butler was waiting on the bottom step and escorted him along the corridor. Nat stole a quick glance into each room he passed.

"Hi," said Tom, "your room OK?"

"Yes, it's great," said Nat, aware that his friend was not being sarcastic.

"Mom, this is Nat. He's the cleverest boy in the class, damn him."

"Please don't swear, Tom," said Mrs.

Russell. "Hello, Nat, how nice to meet you."

"Good evening, Mrs. Russell, it's nice to meet you too. What a lovely home you have."

"Thank you, Nat, and we were delighted that you were able to join us for a few days. Can I get you a Coke?"

"Yes, please."

A uniformed maid went straight to the fridge, took out a Coke and added some ice.

"Thank you," he repeated, as he watched the maid return to the sink and continue chopping potatoes. He thought of his mother back in Cromwell. She would also be chopping up potatoes, but only after a full day's teaching.

"Want me to show you around?" asked Tom.

"Sounds great," said Nat, "but can I make a phone call?"

"You don't need to, Diane's already called."

"She's already called?"

"Yea, she phoned this morning, to ask what time you'd be arriving. She begged me not to tell you, so I think we can assume she's interested."

"Then I'd better call her back immediately."

"No, that's the last thing you should do," said Tom.

"But I said I would."

"Yes, I know you did, but I think we'll walk around the grounds first."

The next day at the Coulters', Triciaanswered the door. She was dressed for a game of tennis.

"Is Diane home?" Nat asked.

"No, she's gone to some party at the Capitol with my parents. She should be back in about an hour.

I'm Tricia, by the way. I spoke to you on the phone. I was just going to have a Coke. Want to join me?"

"Is your brother at home?"

"No, he's training down at the gym."

"Yes, please."

Tricia led Nat through to the kitchen and pointed toward a stool on the other side of the table. Nat sat down and didn't speak as Tricia pulled open the fridge door. As she bent over to remove two Cokes, her short skirt rose. Nat couldn't stop staring at her white tennis panties.

"What time are you expecting them back?" he asked as she added some ice cubes to his drink.

"No idea, so for the time being, you're stuck with me."

Nat sipped his drink, not sure what to say, because he thought he and Diana had agreed to see To Kill a Mockingbird.

Nat was sipping his Coke when he felt a hand on his thigh. He blushed, but made no attempt to remove it. Tricia smiled across the table at him. "You can put your hand on my leg if you want to." Nat thought she might consider him rude if he didn't comply, so he reached under the table and placed a hand on her thigh. "Good," she said as she sipped her Coke, "that's a little more friendly." Nat didn't comment as her hand moved farther up his newly pressed slacks. "Just follow my lead,"

she said. He moved his hand farther up her thigh, but came to a halt when he reached the hem of her skirt. Tricia didn't stop until she had reached his crotch.

"You've still got some way to go to catch up with me,"

Tricia said, as she began to undo the top button of his slacks. "Under the skirt, not over," she added, without any trace of mockery. He slipped his hand under her skirt as she continued to unbutton his slacks. He hesitated again when his fingers reachedher panties. He couldn't remember anything in Teen magazine about what he was expected to do next.

when fletcher's mother dropped him off at Senator and Mrs. Gates's home in East Hartford, it was Jimmy who answered the door.

"Now don't forget to always address Mr.

Gates as Senator or sir."

"Yes, Mom."

"And don't bother him with too many questions."

"No, Mom."

"Remember that a conversation conducted by two people should be fifty percent talking and fifty percent listening."

"Yes, Mom."

"Hello, Mrs. Davenport, how are you?"

asked Jimmy as he opened the door to greet them.

"I'm well, thank you, Jimmy, and you?"

"Just great. I'm afraid Mom and Dad are out at some function, but I could make you a cup of tea?"

"No thank you, I have to be back in time to chair a meeting of the Hospital Trust, but please remember to pass on my best wishes to your parents."

Jimmy carried one of Fletcher's suitcases up to the spare room. "I've put you next to me,"

he said, "which means we have to share the same bathroom."

Fletcher put his other suitcase on the bed, before studying the pictures on the walls-prints of the Civil War, just in case a southerner should come to stay and might have forgotten who won. They reminded Jimmy to ask Fletcher if he'd finished his essay on Lincoln.

"Yes, but have you found out Diane's phone number?"

"I've gone one better. I've discovered which coffee shop she goes to most afternoons. So I thought we might just drop in casually, say around five, and should that fail, my father has invited her parents to a reception at the Capitol tomorrow evening."

"But they might not come.""I've checked the guest list, and they've accepted."

Fletcher suddenly remembered the trade-off he'd agreed on with senator. "How far have you got with your homework?"

"Haven't even started," admitted Jimmy.

"Jimmy, if you don't get a pass grade next term, Mr. Haskins will put you on probation and then I won't be able to help."

"I know, but I'm also aware of the deal you struck with my father."

"Then if I'm to keep it, we'll have to start work first thing tomorrow. We'll begin by doing two hours every morning."

"Yes sir," said Jimmy, snapping to attention.

"But before we worry about tomorrow, perhaps you should get changed," said Jimmy.

Fletcher had packed half a dozen shirts and a couple pairs of slacks, but still hadn't a clue what to wear on his first date. He was about to seek his friend's advice, when Jimmy said, "Once you've unpacked why don't you come down and join us in the living room? The bathroom's at the end of the hall."

Fletcher changed quickly into the shirt and slacks he'd bought the previous day at a local tailor his father had recommended. He checked himself in the long mirror. He had no idea how he looked, because he'd never taken any interest in clothes before. Act casual, look sharp, he'd heard a disc jockey telling his radio audience, but what did that mean? He'd worry about it later. As Fletcher walked downstairs, he could hear voices coming from the front room, one of which he didn't recognize.

"Mom, you remember Fletcher," Jimmy said as his friend strolled into the room.

"Yes, of course I do. My husband never stops telling everyone about the fascinating conversation the two of you had at the Tail game."

"That's kind of him to remember," said Fletcher, not looking at her.

"And I know he's looking forward to seeing you again.""That's kind of him," said Fletcher a second time.

"And this is my kid sister, Annie," said Jimmy.

Annie blushed, and not only because she hated being described by Jimmy as his kid sister: his friend hadn't taken his eyes off her from the moment he'd walked into the room.

"Good evening, Mrs. Coulter, how nice to meet you and your husband, and this must be your daughter Diane, if I remember correctly." Mr. and Mrs.

Coulter were impressed because they had never met the senator before, and not only had their son scored the winning touchdown against Hotchkiss, but they were registered Republicans. "Now, Diane,"

continued the senator, "I have someone I want you to meet." Harry Gates's eyes swept the room searching for Fletcher, who had been standing by his side only a moment before. "Strange," he said, "but you mustn't leave without meeting him. Otherwise I won't have kept my end of the bargain," he added without explanation.

"Where's Fletcher disappeared off to?" Harry Gates asked his son once the Coulters had joined the other guests.

"If you can spot Annie, you won't find Fletcher behind; he hasn't left her side since he arrived in Hartford. In fact I'm thinking of buying him a dog leash and calling him Fletch."

"Is that right?" said the senator. "I hope he doesn't think that releases him from our deal."

"No, he doesn't," said Jimmy. "In fact we studied Romeo and Juliet for two hours this morning, and guess who he sees himself as."

The senator smiled. "And which part do you imagine fits your character?" he asked.

"I think I'm Mercutio."