‘Fuck off.’

‘You want me to haul ass.’

‘Yeah… and give me back the bloody gun.’

‘Aw-righty,’ she said, and opened her bag.

‘Jeez, not here, what… are you outa yer tree.’

‘Well outa federal jurisdiction. I wanna make up.’

‘Make up, like stories is it?’

‘I’m hot for you Cooper. I could service you now, under the table. You just go on eating your vitals, all your appetites satisfied together.’

‘Go away’

She touched her hair, asked, ‘Do I look like Jennifer Aniston?’

‘Who?’

‘Oh Gawd. Don’t you watch TV… like, you never heard of Friends?’

‘I’ve got the Doc.’

‘JES-US… like get real. It’s a comedy series, like mega. A million women copied Jennifer’s style. There’s even a cult called “The Holy Tabernacle of Aniston The Divine”.’

‘Don’t mean shit to me but yer hair… is… I dunno… circa Cathy McGowan… the 60s… like that.’

She rolled her eyes and that closed the hair rap. Said, ‘I bought you a present.’

‘Keep it.’

‘Please Cooper just let me explain. I was jealous, it makes me crazy, I never met a man like you. Mind if I smoke.’

‘And you’ll refrain if I do.’

She took out the Camels, soft pack and crushed, shook one free, asked, ‘Can you light me?’

A couple in their twenties, laden with food, approached and asked, ‘Might we share your table?’

Cassie’s head turned, spat, ‘What, you goddamn blind, we look like we’re receiving company? Can’t you see we’re having sex here.’

I jumped up, said, ‘Sure, we’re all finished.’

And strode out. She was right on my heels as I hit the path, shouted, ‘Don’t leave me, what about the children.’

You can do just about any weird shit in Brixton and no one gives a toss. Ain’t nothing new. But she got attention, maybe it was the bloody Yank accent. A group of the brothers were hanging outside the blues music shop, one of them said, ‘No way to treat a lady, man.’