A round of applause rang out from behind me.
‘Excellent. Absolutely excellent. Not perfect, but the potential … Well, shall we say I’m looking forward to the next production?’
I didn’t want to respond. I wasn’t even sure I could move. I lay in this position on top of Leo until he patted my back and shifted, retracting his cock.
‘Are you OK?’ he whispered, kissing me under my ear.
‘Uhhh,’ was all I could manage.
‘I’d say that shrew was well and truly tamed, wouldn’t you, Leo?’
The endorphins tried to hold me back but they didn’t quite succeed.
‘I beg your pardon?’ I snapped, giving him daggers.
‘Don’t fuss,’ he said, laconically. ‘Just my little joke.’
‘I could take offence at that,’ I said.
‘Well, then I withdraw it, because that would never do. I want to see a lot more of this dynamic you seem to have with your colleague here. And you have the best new bottom I’ve discovered in a long time.’
I wasn’t sure I should feel flattered, really, but I did.
Leo and I read the review in bed, two days later.
‘Winners’ laurels were deservedly bestowed upon the Falstowe Light Opera Company, who managed something of a coup – a production of Kiss Me, Kate that offered a fresh and untried approach to the am-dram staple. I hope to see a great deal more of Caroline Reddish, who directed herself in the dual roles of Miss Vanessi and Katharina. If she happens to be playing opposite her theatrical nemesis, Leo Bradley, then so much the better. This is a pairing made in thespian heaven.’
‘Thespian heaven, eh?’ I put aside the newspaper and settled down in Leo’s arms, looking up at his big, smiling face.
‘He talks a lot of bull, doesn’t he?’
‘But he’s the great Peregrine Sands. How can you say that?’
‘Do you think he spanks all the people he gives good reviews to?’
‘You know, I think maybe he does. Wouldn’t that be interesting to know?’
The bedside phone rang and I picked it up.
‘Oh, Mr Sands. We were just talking about you. Why, yes, I think drinks at the Geisha Garden would be just lovely. Shall I bring Leo? And Emma can make up a foursome. I look forward to it. Ciao.’
Tea and Ceremony
The Geisha Garden owed very little to traditional Japanese culture, and a great deal to the fact that its owner had been offered a job lot of silk, patterned wallpaper and screens, after an ambitious teriyaki restaurant in the area had gone bankrupt.
In the past, it had been one of Soho’s most notorious clip joints, offering a cloudy cider-like beverage it called ‘champagne’ for a hundred pounds a bottle. ‘Offering’ is not perhaps the right phrase. ‘Forcing upon one with menaces’ might be.
When the owner – at least, the man named on the deeds – had been imprisoned, a new ‘owner’ had appeared on the scene. In fact, the premises had not changed hands at all, both landlords being in the pay of the same Mr Big, but as far as the local police were concerned, the slate was clean and a fresh start could be made.
The fresh start had an ersatz flavour of the Kyoto tea gardens, and sold exactly the same cloudy cider-like beverage under the name of ‘sake’.
But there was more to the Geisha Garden than buying a pretty girl an overpriced drink. In fact, hardly anybody ever bought the sake any more, so no looming toughs in tuxedos had to enforce the purchase. Because now there was a new game in town, and those that liked to play were both welcome and wealthy.
Emma Frayne wasn’t sure exactly how Japanese jasmine-scented joss sticks were – surely they were more an Indian thing? – but she lit a few nonetheless, and left them to smoulder, before heading upstairs to change out of her urban-friendly jeans and plaid shirt combo.
In the small, sweaty room with its plasterboard walls and fly-spotted mirrors, she found three of her fellow employees, all in various stages of undress.
‘Em!’ exclaimed the tallest, a rangy girl in Marks and Sparks matching underwear and nothing else. ‘How did you get on with the drama llama last night?’