His make-up techniques were still woeful. But at least he now knewroughly what to do. What to aim for and with a glimmer of an ideaas to how it could ...e achieved. He hated himself whilst he peeredinto the mirror, did, undid, and redid his face. Hated the smell ofhimself as La Perla's 'Blue' hazed over him. Saw no alternative. It took him all of the forty minutes Laura had allowed. Stillawaiting her return he sat on the bed and opened the lettercontaining the timetable for the week. Much of it. ."I looked at my favoured chalice, now lying smashed on the floor, its former contents making a bit of a mess on the bare lino. She looked at me with a certain comprehension in her eyes."Cor, yeah," she said, "It was those Bishopston wankers, in the stairwell - and you beat them off with your walking stick! Fuck, but that was pretty fucking good, for an old guy like you. Sorry I broke your mug, by the way."I sighed, wondering whether it was worth disabusing her of these misconceptions, or. More

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