Acid Lullaby (26 page)

‘You’re
kidding?’
Liz
reached
between
her
feet
and
retrieved
the
bottle.
‘Champagne
at
nine
in
the
morning?’

‘Who
gives
a
toss?
Drink
it.’

‘You
swear
too
much,
Maxy.’

‘That
is
not
the
fucking
point.’
Max
missed
a
gear
and
the
car
groaned
its
frustration
back
at
him.
‘The
point
is
it
costs
two
hundred
big
ones
a
bottle
and
I
bought
it
for
you.’

‘I’m
touched,’
said
Liz
sarcastically.

‘Besides,
’
said
Max
as
they
jumped
a
red
light,
‘it’ll
help
to
take
the
taste
away.’

‘What
taste?’

The
Porsche
swerved
across
the
dual
carriageway
as
Max
reached
inside
his
jogging
bottoms
and
pulled
out
his
erec
tion.

Liz
laughed.
‘You
are
too
much.’

‘I’m
serious.’

‘And
you
can’t
ask
me
any
better
than
that?’

‘I’m a God.’

‘Yeah,
the
unemployed
God
of
Bullshit.’

Liz
peeled
the
foil
from
the
top
of
the
champagne
bottle
and
flicked
the
cork
out
of
the
car
with
a
gratifying
pop.
She
took
a
deep
swig
of
the
champagne
and
unbuckled
her
seat
belt.

‘You
don’t
deserve
this,’
she
said,
leaning
over.

‘Just
fucking
get
on
with
it.’
Max
was
irritated.
The
lights
rushed
past
the
car
and
were
tap
dancing
on
the
road
in
front
of
him.
He
squinted
them
away,
looking
for
signs
to
the
M11.

‘Hey!
Will
you
stop
swearing
at
me?’
Liz’s
smile
had
vanished.

‘I’m
sorry.’

Liz
leaned
over
again.
She
slipped
one
hand
under
his
balls
and
bent
down
to
take
his
dick
in
her
mouth.
She
recoiled
suddenly.
‘When
did
you
last
take
a
shower?’

Max
was
confused.
‘What
do
you
mean?’

‘You’re
a
little
ripe
down
there,
honey.’

He
was
horrified
at
this
affront
to
his
divinity.

‘I’ve
got
an
idea.’

Liz
picked
up
the
champagne
bottle
and
poured
a
small
amount
over
Max’s
penis.
He
gasped
as
it
fizzed
at
him.
Liz
reached
over
again
and
this
time
took
him
into
her
mouth.

‘Better?’

Liz
grunted
her
approval.
He
held
her
head
down
on
him.
The
Porsche
raced
towards
the
M11,
drifting
from
left
to
right
across
the
empty
street.
A
few
people
watched
the
car
as
it
roared
past.
Max
didn’t
care.
He
was
laughing
too
much,
laughing
at
the
absurdity
of
a
god
with
a
genital
hygiene
issue.

They
arrived
at
the
house
at
10.30.
Liz
was
impressed.

‘Wow!
When
was
this
place
built?’

‘About
seventeen-fifty.’

‘Shit.
That’s
older
than
America.’
She
scrunched
across
the
gravel
drive
and
looked
around.
‘You
need
a
gardener,
Maxy.
I
think
Vietcong
might
be
hiding
in
these
bushes.’

‘I
used
to
have
a
gardener,’
said
Max
thoughtfully.
‘I
can’t
remember
what
happened
to
him
now.’

‘He
probably
got
lost
in
the
herbaceous
border.
This
place
has
got
huge
potential
though.’

Max
looked
at
the
sad
old
house.
Its
crumbling
stonework
and
faded
façade.
Liz
was
right.
The
building
was
in
decay
but
it
would
soon
be
rejuvenated.
And
its
location
was
perfect.
Max
had
reaped
the
harvest.

‘Are
you
on
any
birth-control
pills?’
he
asked
suddenly.

‘I’m
sorry?’

‘Do
you
want
to
have
children?’

‘You’re
asking
me
now?
On
a
driveway?’

‘Do
you?’
Max
studied
her
face
closely.

‘Boy,
you
are
full
of
surprises.
“Want” –
yes.
“Can” –
no.’

‘I
don’t
understand.’

‘Premature
menopause.
The
egg
store
is
dried
up.
I
can’t
have
kids.’

‘You
can’t
have
children?’
Max
was
struggling
to
concen
trate.
The
lights
were
contorting
Liz’s
face
into
something
disgusting.

‘You
asked.
I
told
you.’
Liz
approached
him
and
put
her
arms
around
his
neck.
‘Is
that
a
problem?’

Suddenly
she
revolted
him.
Her
breath.
Her
perfume.
Her
body.
She
was
a
horror.
She
could
not
have
children.
She
was
merely
a
useless
receptacle.
He
resented
her
barrenness.
He
mourned
for
the
progeny
of
Soma
that
had
already
died
uselessly
inside
her.

‘So,’
she
said,
‘are
you
gonna
give
me
the
big
tour
or
are
we
gonna
get
all
maudlin
in
the
driveway?’

He
led
her
inside
and
showed
her
the
main
hallway
with
its
huge
staircase
and
the
oil
paintings
that
lined
the
walls
of
the
corridors.
Without
interest
he
showed
her
the
library
with
its
giant
east-facing
window
and
high
ceiling.
Max
was
rapidly
drained
of
enthusiasm
and
after
only
the
briefest
of
tours,
he
decided
to
take
Liz
up
onto
the
roof.

There
was
a
small
steel
ladder
in
the
huge
attic
space
that
led
onto
the
roof
via
a
hatch.
It
took
Max
an
irritating
half-
minute
to
fumble
open
the
padlock.
Once
he
had
done
so,
they
both
stepped
outside.

‘God!
It’s
beautiful
up
here!’
Liz
observed.

‘You
can
see
forever,’
said
Max.

Liz
squinted
out
at
forever.

‘Well,’
she
said,
‘you
can
see
the
motorway.’

Max
didn’t
find
her
amusing.
Liz
picked
her
way
across
the
flat
roof,
enjoying
the
view
of Thetford
Forest
to
the
east.
She
curled
her
nose
suddenly.

‘Can
you
smell
something?’
she
asked,
looking
back
over
her
shoulder.

Max
didn’t
move.
All
he
could
smell
was
her
putridness.

‘It
sure
does
stink.’
Liz
looked
around
her.
There
was
a
bulging
grain
sack
lying
a
few
feet
to
her
right. ‘I
think
it’s
coming
from
here.’
She
approached
the
bag
cautiously.
She
was
close
to
the
edge.
Max
came
over
to
join
her.

‘What
the
hell
is
in
there,
Max?’
she
asked
undoing
the
string
tie
around
the
neck
of
the
bag.