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people want to buy it.’
    Ray finished his drink, ordered another, said:
    ‘Have something yourself.’
    The fuck took a whiskey and kept the change. As he raised his glass, he said:
    ‘I might be tempted to let it go for £100.’
    As the Americans say, Ray did the math. He’d be out the ton but he could return, in the early hours of the morning, knock the kip over, get compensated. True, he’d have to go alone as Jimmy was now a working stiff. The barman was staring intently, said:
    ‘I know you, I mean you look like that actor, shit, what’s his name?’
    Ray decided to help him out, hinted
    ‘Salvador
ring any bells?’
    ‘Yeah, I got it – James Belushi.’
    Ray hated Belushi, took out his wallet, laid the hundred down. The guy finished his drink, said:
    ‘Don’t know about you but I could go another.’
    Ray ignored him, went over, took the painting down and left without a backward glance.
    Next morning, he gathered Angie and Jimmy, said:
    ‘I want to show you something.’
    Led them to the bedroom, went:
    ‘Whatcha fink?’
    Angie hated it when he spoke
common.
Jimmy asked:
    ‘Is it a ferret? Why did you hang a ferret up?’
    Angie gave a small smile, said:
    ‘It’s a vixen.’
    Ray could tell by her face that she was pleased. She gave him the full look, asked:
    ‘What’s the story, Ray?’
    He was hoping she’d ask, had been working on his answer all night and now, oh so casual, as if he’d just thought of it, went:
    “Cos you’re a fox.’
    Angie kept a separate bedroom, said she couldn’t bear to actually
sleep
with a person. She’d service Ray and, no matter how he coaxed, she’d leave right after. That night she gave him a sensational blow job and, as he dozed off, she went to her own room. Climbing between the sheets – it was her favourite part of the day – she could be truly alone and dream of Florida and endless days of sun and clothes.
    Mostly, she found people a drag; they whined on about money and about the weather and worse, politics. All such trivial shit. What she liked was to see how they reacted to pain. Ray was okay and she didn’t mind the sex. It amazed her that men would do just about anything for it. Jimmy meant as much to her as a dog she might pass in the street.
    After she blew them off – and blow them she fully intended to do – she wouldn’t give them another thought. First, Jimmy would be sacrificed, then Ray. She might do something special for him, take him out in a painless way. He’d bought her that dumb painting and seemed to thinkthat mangy fox was her. She played him along, kept him sweet as he was especially good on the phone. Had those cops doing somersaults. Under her pillow she kept a Browning automatic, primed and ready to lock and load. Before sleep took her, she wondered if she’d use a head or body shot on Ray. It interested her to see how the head would look if she put two into it at close range. Fuck him first then whip out the gun, say:
    ‘Now you’ve come and hey, here you’re gone.’
    She fell asleep with a smile on her face.
    Jimmy was watching the best-ever episode of
The Office.
He didn’t fully understand it but now he was a working guy, he felt a kinship with it. He laughed out loud without fully understanding the humour but in the morning, when the guys mentioned bits, he’d be able to laugh all over again. Jimmy wasn’t happy that it was only a temporary position, but maybe after, when they’d got the money, Ray might allow him to do a few days a week.
    He’d really stayed up to watch a lezzie drama that was getting lots of publicity. Called
Tipping the Velvet
, it starred Diana Rigg’s daughter. This would have impressed him more if he knew who Diana Rigg was. A big deal was being made of the fact that BBC 2 was showing it.
    Ray said:
    ‘It’s porn. Just because that BBC crowd made it, doesn’t change the fact that they’re peddling porn. Oh, be sure to tape it, yeah?’
    Jimmy was disappointed. It was tame and he