LITHGOW sobbed and shivered, saying, “I’m going to die, I’m going to die.” Sassie, rolling up Lithgow’s sleeve, said, “Let me have a look, Fraser,” and he settled down. They’d got a cab back to Lithgow’s flat in Fulham. The cabbie got worried when Lithgow started to cry, saying he’d turn into “one of them”, he’d “die and walk the streets at midnight”. But Sassie calmed him down by saying he’d be all right, and Lawton calmed him down by telling him to shut his gob. Lawton poured Famous Grouse into glasses. He’d got the bottle out of Lithgow’s drinks cabinet. Lawton jabbed a tumbler-full into Lithgow’s hand. “Drink that, let Sassie have a look,” he said. Sassie studied Lithgow’s arm while Lithgow gurgled down the liquor. “You’re all right,” she said, “it didn’t even break the skin.” “There you go,”
