you, drop a few names
to get her excited, and then after she’d been sending out the hints, dived in there with the old, ‘We’re not getting any younger, let’s just do it right now’ speech,
‘Got Cannes coming up’ blah-di-blah. Well of course she jumped at it. So then—” Christmas sighed. “So then, we open an account together, she sticks in a big wodge and
I take the lot out in cash and leg it, which, I may say, was pretty much what she was planning to do to me, though perhaps more of a slow march towards the grave than the old hit-and-run ...”
The barman began to have a conversation with one of his colleagues, but Christmas kept going. “Needless to say of course Diana screamed blue bloody murder. I mean I – can’t blame,
I mean – look I’ve done some – but I’d never done anything like that before – don’t feel especially terrific about it, but I was in a hole,
am
in a hole,
and when you’re in a hole, well, you don’t know what you’ll do, until you’re in one ... anyway ... well, anyway, like I said, it’s just what she was planning to do to
me, exactly the bloody the same if you really look at it. She wouldn’t have given old Christmas a second look if she knew he was up to his eyeballs in debt and without a pot to piss in
...” Christmas took a swig and crunched down on an ice cube. “Besides, she was hardly Snow White. Hadn’t even told me she had a son. In fact, she explicitly told me she
didn’t have any children. Technically true, I suppose. Stepson. One of her friends let it slip in the end. Total nutter. Does all that battle recreation stuff at the weekends, you know, well,
you probably don’t, but anyway Hubby had this kid from a previous marriage. First wife died in mysterious circumstances. Topped herself, by the sounds of it because Hubby was a first class
bastard. Used to knock Diana about, and the kid. He gets thrown out of the navy or something, becomes a history teacher, drops dead.
“The stepson, William – absolutely mad about his new mother. Followed her everywhere apparently, like a puppy, but once Hubby had keeled over he goes from bad to worse. Chip off the
old block. Kicked out of school for bullying. Pretty much raped a girl at a party once. Girl was sparked out from the booze and she woke up with Junior on top of her. Well, that was it as far as
Diana was concerned. Didn’t want to have anything else to do with him, but he kept turning up drunk in her garden in the middle of the night, that sort of thing. Totally obsessed with her.
She got a restraining order in the end. Yes, she kept shtum about Mummy’s little cherub, didn’t she, until she started threatening me with him ... Christ. He turned up at my place. Like
I said, not really my place any more according to the bank, but that’s another story. Fucking great knife! Nearly fucking killed me!—Escaped by a whisker young man, by a
whisker
.
Scared the fucking bejesus out of me, I can tell you.” Christmas looked down. His hands were trembling.
The barman walked away to serve another customer. Christmas downed his drink. He closed his eyes against the memory: parking outside his flat in Streatham. The ‘For Sale’ signs were
back up, and he was just about to pull them down again when he heard someone shout his name. The next thing he knew, William Slade was running up the pavement towards him, a knife in his hand.
Christmas only just got back into his car in time, accelerating up the road with Slade in the rear-view mirror. He had driven straight to the airport and bought a ticket to Caracas.
Christmas ordered another Cacique. Then another. The rum was taking over. He rotated his knuckles against his eyes until they stung, stirring the last few drinks into the cauldron of feeling
that was bubbling up through his veins.
What the devil had he taken Diana’s money for in any case? Twenty-six thousand pounds. It certainly wasn’t enough to reverse his fortunes. What was it
to get her excited, and then after she’d been sending out the hints, dived in there with the old, ‘We’re not getting any younger, let’s just do it right now’ speech,
‘Got Cannes coming up’ blah-di-blah. Well of course she jumped at it. So then—” Christmas sighed. “So then, we open an account together, she sticks in a big wodge and
I take the lot out in cash and leg it, which, I may say, was pretty much what she was planning to do to me, though perhaps more of a slow march towards the grave than the old hit-and-run ...”
The barman began to have a conversation with one of his colleagues, but Christmas kept going. “Needless to say of course Diana screamed blue bloody murder. I mean I – can’t blame,
I mean – look I’ve done some – but I’d never done anything like that before – don’t feel especially terrific about it, but I was in a hole,
am
in a hole,
and when you’re in a hole, well, you don’t know what you’ll do, until you’re in one ... anyway ... well, anyway, like I said, it’s just what she was planning to do to
me, exactly the bloody the same if you really look at it. She wouldn’t have given old Christmas a second look if she knew he was up to his eyeballs in debt and without a pot to piss in
...” Christmas took a swig and crunched down on an ice cube. “Besides, she was hardly Snow White. Hadn’t even told me she had a son. In fact, she explicitly told me she
didn’t have any children. Technically true, I suppose. Stepson. One of her friends let it slip in the end. Total nutter. Does all that battle recreation stuff at the weekends, you know, well,
you probably don’t, but anyway Hubby had this kid from a previous marriage. First wife died in mysterious circumstances. Topped herself, by the sounds of it because Hubby was a first class
bastard. Used to knock Diana about, and the kid. He gets thrown out of the navy or something, becomes a history teacher, drops dead.
“The stepson, William – absolutely mad about his new mother. Followed her everywhere apparently, like a puppy, but once Hubby had keeled over he goes from bad to worse. Chip off the
old block. Kicked out of school for bullying. Pretty much raped a girl at a party once. Girl was sparked out from the booze and she woke up with Junior on top of her. Well, that was it as far as
Diana was concerned. Didn’t want to have anything else to do with him, but he kept turning up drunk in her garden in the middle of the night, that sort of thing. Totally obsessed with her.
She got a restraining order in the end. Yes, she kept shtum about Mummy’s little cherub, didn’t she, until she started threatening me with him ... Christ. He turned up at my place. Like
I said, not really my place any more according to the bank, but that’s another story. Fucking great knife! Nearly fucking killed me!—Escaped by a whisker young man, by a
whisker
.
Scared the fucking bejesus out of me, I can tell you.” Christmas looked down. His hands were trembling.
The barman walked away to serve another customer. Christmas downed his drink. He closed his eyes against the memory: parking outside his flat in Streatham. The ‘For Sale’ signs were
back up, and he was just about to pull them down again when he heard someone shout his name. The next thing he knew, William Slade was running up the pavement towards him, a knife in his hand.
Christmas only just got back into his car in time, accelerating up the road with Slade in the rear-view mirror. He had driven straight to the airport and bought a ticket to Caracas.
Christmas ordered another Cacique. Then another. The rum was taking over. He rotated his knuckles against his eyes until they stung, stirring the last few drinks into the cauldron of feeling
that was bubbling up through his veins.
What the devil had he taken Diana’s money for in any case? Twenty-six thousand pounds. It certainly wasn’t enough to reverse his fortunes. What was it
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