He was holding the fort while everyone was away at the latest show. That meant he had all the household slaves at his disposal and the privacy also suited him. He had a phone call to make and he really didn’t want the boss overhearing. Patti had gone as well. She was becoming more and more openly sullen; she had to make her move soon - he was sure of it and he had plans to make. He waved away the girl who was crouching in front of him and licking the last traces of his emission from her lips, reached for the phone, took a battered old diary from his desk, thumbed through it for a moment and then made an international call. The phone rang for quite a while before a highly cultured English voice answered. “Dandy, is that you? It’s Ali here, remember me? Okay man, it’s good to hear you too but listen I’ve got a deal for you. Let me lay it out for you and we’ll do the small talk later, I’m tight on time.” Two hours later, and far away in Berkshire, England an irritable John Carpenter sat and listened to Dandy Macintyre.
