The Lucy Ghosts

They stopped for a Haagen Dazs ice cream at the next corner, Billie savouring a chocolate chip special while Adam licked his way through a blueberry cone. The shop signs fascinated him, the impact of tourist shabby on this beautiful street.

'Orgy French Style. Girls Girls Girls.'

'Female Amateur Wrestling. Audience Participation.

We come to the street to find a challenger.'

'Mask Factory.'

'Guru T shirts.'

'Dee-sire is yours — thru these doors.'

'Lesbian Orgies — women only.'

And those were just the ones he could see from where he stood.

'What're you thinking?' she asked him through a mouthful of chocolate chip.

'How about something to eat?' he lied back.

The Court of (the?) Two Sisters is housed in a building that dates back to 1832 and has one of the most beautiful courtyards in the Quarter. It is called after two sisters who ran a dry goods shop there at the turn of the century and is now one of the finest outdoor eating places in the street.

Adam led Billie through the darkened archway to the courtyard. Within minutes a black waiter, 'Mateus' according to the badge on his lapel, had poured them iced water and taken their order.

'What do you think of it?' she asked him.

'Interesting. And different.'

'What do you want to do tonight?'

'Not bothered. What about you?'

'I'd like some excitement.'

'Any ideas?'

'Yes. I've never been to one of those sex shows.'

'The lesbian ones?'

'Yup.'

He grinned. 'Women only.'

'Damn.'

'Shame.'

'Liar.'

He laughed. 'So where were we? I know, we were talking about your marriage. You said you honeymooned here.'

'That was yesterday. On the plane. And I'm not talking about myself any more.' He saw the hurt in her eyes and regretted mentioning the honeymoon. But she pushed it aside and went on. 'Let's change the subject. Let's talk about you.

'Nothing to say.'

'Like hell.'

'Wouldn't know where to start.'

'At the beginning. What were you like at school?'

'Terrible.'

'Why?'

'A right little tearaway.'

'I don't believe it,' she mocked him.

'I was. You really want to know?'

'Yes.'

'Okay. I went to about six different schools in the same time that most kids go to one.'

'Why?'

'Because I was kicked out of every one. Expelled.'

'I don't believe that.'

'Listen, if you're not going to believe me, then I won't tell you.'

'Oops. Sorry.'

'Didn't see the point of school. Waste of time. So I played truant. Hookey to you. I got in with an older crowd, we all had a bit of money, you see. So I used to disappear each day and play cards with these guys. Poker. Chemin de fer. It was great. I won a car in one game. An old Mini. You remember them?'

'The little cars.'

'Yes. Except my mini was big to me. It had no heater.' He laughed. 'I went to a garage to get one fitted. But they wanted too much. So the mechanic told me that every time I'd pull up at some lights or come to a stop, then I'd have to wiggle the long gear lever up and down and stamp my feet on the accelerator and clutch pedals. Get's the circulation going, he said. Best way of keeping warm.'

'And you did that?'

'All the time. Stamped and shook my way all round London. I ran the car for three months before I lost it in another game. I used to arrive at the gates after school and pick up all my chums. Then we'd all go off and blow my winnings. Best time I ever had.'

'How old were you?'

'Fourteen.'

'You're kidding?'

'I told you. You have to believe me.'

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' she said, holding her hands up in mock apology.

Mateus brought them their wine and they waited until he had uncorked and poured it.

'I was broken up when I lost that car,' he continued when Mateus had gone. 'So I stole one of my guardian's Bentleys.'

'Stole it?'

'Borrowed. Except he didn't know. He had this old Bentley. Kept it in a lock-up garage round the corner from his flat. Only ever used the car at weekends. So I got a spare garage key cut and used to take the car from Monday to Friday.'

'What happened?'

'I took this girl out. You can imagine how popular I was with the birds. Not everyone at fourteen, going fifteen, runs round in a Bentley. Anyway, I dropped her home, somewhere in the country, then got caught in the snow coming back. Bloody thing just buried itself up to the axle. Wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been Thursday night. When he went to the garage Friday lunchtime, of course, it wasn't there. I owned up. No point calling the police in. They'd have traced it anyway.'

'I bet he was pleased.'

'Just a little. Refused to speak to me for a week. Then I bought him a bottle of Dom Perignon and he forgave me. He wasn't a bad chap. For one of the guardians.'

'Where were your parents?'

'Away,' he lied. 'Out of the country most of the time.'

She sensed his reluctance to speak about them, felt him tighten up. He picked up his glass and drank from it. It would be the only glass he would drink all evening. She changed the subject. 'So how many exams did you pass?'

'Hell, you can't pass them if you don't take them.'

'None?'

'Never sat one. Now that's what I call an achievement.' He grinned. 'Not true, of course.'

'What is?'

'That I passed none. I got my one length swimming certificate.'

'Your what?'

'One length swimming certificate. But even then I cheated. My legs were walking the last bit in the shallow end.'

They both laughed as the waiter arrived with the first course.

'So that was your secret life. Then. What about now?'

'Ah! There are things we all feel are better hidden.'

'Why? What makes people so…insular…that they can't share with others.' She was thinking of Peter and how he could never admit his infidelities, even when she had found him out.

'Don't ask me. Maybe, we just need our own space. Somewhere that no-one else can get to.'

Behind them a jazz band began to play.

It was as life should be, sitting there in that sunlit courtyard before night came and cast its shadow and opened the lid on Sin City.

* * *

They were ten minutes late for Frankie, but he'd waited for them.

'Any messages?' asked Billie, sliding into the back followed by Adam.

'No. Tucker said to make sure you're back by eleven.'

'Three hours to purgatory,' said Adam. 'What do you want to do?'

'I told you. Excitement,' she replied.

'Any ideas?' Adam turned to Frankie.

'In this town? Huh! I don't know if you guys could take it. We got jazz clubs, naked wrestling, men and women. Sex shows, even ones you can take part in. You wanna be a star? Hey?'

'No thanks,' said Billie.

'How about cards. All the games you want. And whatever the stakes. Not just money. You can even roll dice for a woman, or a man. Anything you want. Wanna gamble, limey?'

'Not tonight.'

'You're choosey, aren't you?'

'In a town like this, there's got to be something different. I mean, really different.'

'It's too early for what I think you'd like.'

'What's that?'

'A ceremony.'

'Tell me.'

'Voodoo.'

Adam grinned. 'Now that would be different.'

'Most of these ceremonies don't happen till late at night. I mean the real stuff, not this tourist shit.'

'Fancy it?' Adam asked Billie.

'Why not? Long as we're back by eleven.'