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Chapter 8
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Lala's Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret Chapter 9
The next morning started much as most did at Chateau Nullepart, with its meagre occupants rising from a groggy slumber. But something had changed, an invisible line crossed, one tentative step from certainty to its opposite. 'They voted out!' Lala started laughing. 'The silly fuckers!' 'I don't think it's that funny,' Teddy said, looking perplexed as Lala scorned his seriousness. 'What about our right to stay here?' Lala stopped laughing. 'They won't kick us out. Think of the money.' 'Yes, yes, I know but you never know what kind of demented passion this sort of thing unleashes. I think there are a lot of very unhappy people out there.' Lala thought about the word 'unhappy'. She did not often, but from time to time it leapt out at her like a bogeyman she had almost convinced herself was unreal. Everything she did, had done, consciously thought about, was a vain attempt to avoid that word. It followed her assiduously. Tapping at her shoulder. Here I am, it said, w
Lala's Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret Chapter 10
The Letter It lay on the kitchen table where Sèdonoudè had placed it. Teddy walked around it for some time, making coffee, toast, needlessly arranging bits of crockery which he would not ordinarily bother with at the best of times. That was the cleaner's job, when she was around at least, and not taking to her bed for days on end to struggle with yet another existential crisis. He knew where it had come from; he recognised the stationary. It just sat and glared at him, a ray of sunlight giving it a glow, radiating like a beam from where it hit the filmy plastic oblong containing the address and his name. Every time he looked at it, it gnawed at him a little. Like the gnawing dull ache from his groin which these days would not go away. He needed whisky for a moment like this. The smell of it reeked from his coffee cup. He opened the letter with trembling hands and as he read the words at first, they seemed to swirl, as if he had suddenly developed acute dyslexia. But a
Lala's Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret Chapter 11
Jeremy Baden-Flogg sat with two other men at a dining table in a club on London's Pall Mall. The magnificent palazzo architecture was designed to dazzle, to give the diners the fullest sense of their grandeur. The men with Baden could have been any faceless men in suits to the other diners, whose eyes were always drawn to more recognisable ones like his. Here, in any case, the room was full of such faces: politicians, civil servants, actors, writers, TV news reporters, and other media types, along with old men who had money and did not want to go home. Baden picked up one of the lamb cutlets by the little paper wrapper placed there to prevent grease getting on his fingers. As he chomped away one of his guests began talking about his investments. 'I've already made a killing betting against the pound, just think what we will do if we flog the whole ship!' Their lips greasy with fat but their finger-tips dry, they ate the lamb and drank red burgundy. They chatted and g
Lala's Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret Chapter 12
Teddy mostly did not talk about his looming fate, preferring, as men - especially men of his generation - to believe it ignoble to do so in some way. He carried the unwelcome burden of his thoughts in silent misery. It frightened him, because although he read well throughout his life, he had never been able to make up his mind about anything. Lala, an atheist, had always laughed any time he mentioned a fascination for the numinous, but he was at the same time utterly without faith. He did not know what to believe in, and so believed in nothing. Occasionally, seeking that tenuous reassurance that our lives have mattered, at least in some small way, he confided in Sèdonoudè. ‘I can’t believe it, Don Don,’ Teddy said, ‘I mean, we all know it’s coming someday, but it doesn’t seem real. I mean, I feel alright, apart from the bloody pissing, and they’ve given me something to relieve that. The doctor said I haven’t got long.’ Sèdonoudè sat silently looking at him for what seemed
Lala's Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret Chapter 13
Teddy lay on the hospital bed with the poison coursing through his veins. It is how a person dies. A withering poison turning their insides to stone. Lala sat beside him as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He was heavily drugged. She thought about him and their life together, the long years of chaos and sometimes harmony, and never imagined, not even for a moment, that she would see him lying there like this. A nurse entered the private room on the fifth floor of the Institut Bergoniè, closing the door almost silently behind her, leaving just a little click hanging in the air. She offered a sympathetic smile, which, once she decided she liked the look of her, Lala returned. Even the monitors were on low in the room, which was full of clutter: flowers, fruit, coats, bags. A traveller’s court. The nurse checked the absepto case connections, and the dial on the pump which controlled the flow of drugs. Teddy grimaced, though still asleep, when she gently wrapped t
Lala's Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret Chapter 14
The Other LetterThe writing on the front of the envelope was barely legible, and Baden presumed that it can have only arrived at his home because the staff at the post office in Big Cidering knew his name and could make out some of the postcode. Baden opened it impatiently. der Jermyi wont to let u no I am finking about you. i sor you on the telly i beleeve in wot you say on the telly and wont to suppot u i am fed up with the way are country is going can u send me sum money i wont tell anyone about what we did in france i promis yors Billy ‘What’s that?’ Jeremy dropped his hand guiltily, crumpling the letter at his side, unconsciously willing it to disappear.‘Oh, nothing. Just a letter from a constituent. Wants more done about beggars in the shopping precinct.’ Eloquentia lost interest and carried on fussing with a vase she had just filled with flowers. She turned it left and right on the marble surface of the French Empire console, searching for its bes
Lala's Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret Chapter 15
Teddy came home in an ambulance. Lala, Sèdonoudè, Quentin, Arabella Cameron, and a private nurse, stood on the stone steps which led up to the front door of Chateau Nullepart. It was hardly Lord Marchmain’s return to die in his ancestral home (and Teddy, though gravely ill, was not yet in extremis), but he was nonetheless touched by the gesture. The ambulance driver and his mate, officious looking in navy-blue, almost paramilitary style attire, carefully slid the rolling stretcher through the ambulance’s back door. Teddy had lost weight. The ambulanciers had little difficulty lifting the stretcher up the steps and setting it back down in the hallway. The wheels rolled on the marble tiles in front of the double stairway, a feature of the house which had always been Teddy’s favourite, and into the wood panelled dining room which had always been his second favourite. Suddenly all those memories came back to him. The long wooden table dressed in 80s gold plate and cutle
Lala's Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret Chapter 16
In the cyber-land he had created for himself, Billy O’Leary was becoming more and more unhinged. His life of transience, of crime, the abuse he had suffered as a child, were an easy reservoir to draw upon. He entered deeper and deeper into a world of the dark side of the web, visiting sites where death was uploaded in real time. Middle Eastern and Mexican head choppers, or imaginative amateurs, tortured and mutilated their victims without conscience. The videos they made travelled fast around the bands of communication, and were watched by young men and women, some of whom, like Billy, were not quite right in the head. They grew inured to suffering the way a tree slowly grows, incrementally, until what was once a seed easily lost upon barren ground, becomes fixed in the most fertile part of it. Solid, immovable, vast, all encompassing, until it covers in shadows the alternative shoots of opportunity. Having won their referendum, the engineering rats were scurrying for power.
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