“No thank you.”
Despite the fact that I was standing, he sat down, stretching out his legs as he took a drink. “So are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or not? You’ve got a face like a toilet pan.”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve simply got a lot to do, and the sooner you leave the sooner I can get on with it.”
“We really are in a shitty mood, aren’t we? If you’re pissed off because I’m late, it was because I took Anna home before I came here. Am I excused now, or do you want a note from my mum?”
“You mean Anna was still at your flat when you called me?”
“Put your eyes back in, Donald. She was under the shower. She didn’t hear. And I didn’t tell her I was coming to see you, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.” He stretched. “Anyway, you should grumble. I was expecting a leisurely morning in bed, but the silly bitch got a sudden attack of the guilts and decided she had to go. I managed to give her a quickie in the shower after I’d called you, but that was all. I think she felt disloyal about enjoying it so much.” He grinned. “That didn’t seem to bother her too much last night, though, did it? What did you think of the show, by the way?”
I did not answer.
“Come on, talk to me. Was it all right or wasn’t it?” I looked away, wishing he were anywhere but with me. He grinned. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it? Your big night?” There was mocking concern in his voice.
“You came here to collect the picture. I suggest you do that and then go.”
“Where are your manners, Donald? I didn’t rush you out of my flat last night, did I? Be sociable. I only want to make sure that everything was okay, that’s all. I aim to please. If you’ve any complaints I want to hear them.”
“I haven’t.”
He was enjoying himself. “I’m afraid I don’t believe you. Come on, Donald, tell Uncle Zeppo what’s upset you. I can see something has. I’m sensitive like that.” He waited. I said nothing. “If you won’t tell me what it is, I’ll only have to guess.”
I hated his games. “Nothing. Everything was fine.”
“Ah ah, Donald. You’re telling fibs. Did I forget to do something, is that it? I tried to give you a selection, but I suppose I might have missed something out. If you were expecting something a bit more exotic you should have told me. I don’t mind doing requests.”
“The sketch is on the table. Take it and get out.”
“Donald, Donald, that’s no way to treat someone you’ve just shared a beautiful experience with, is it?” He assumed a look of exaggerated concern. “You’re not jealous, are you? Is that what’s wrong? You didn’t like watching someone else shafting your heart’s desire. Is that it?”
“Do we have to go through this charade?”
He grinned. “Yes, I’m afraid we do. You got what you wanted, and since it’s pretty obvious you didn’t enjoy it, I think it’s only fair to tell me why. After all the trouble I went through I deserve to know that much.” I remained silent. Zeppo sighed. “Okay, since you won’t co-operate, on with the guessing game. Let’s see, if you’re not jealous, what else could it be?”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Only trying to help. If you’re not happy, I’m not happy. So why aren’t you happy?”
I wanted to dent his smug composure. “Why didn’t you tell me your real name was Crispin?”
His grin vanished. “Don’t try and be clever, Donald. It doesn’t suit you.”
“I seem to have touched a nerve.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Then it won’t bother you if I tell everyone what you’re really called?”
“I wouldn’t try and be a smart arse if I were you. You’re in no position to.”
“Really? I don’t see why not.”
He gave a hard little smile. “Because if you piss me off, I’ll punch you in the stomach until you piss blood.” His smile grew less strained. “But we’re getting away from what we were talking about, aren’t we? About why you didn’t enjoy the performance. Come on, Donald, what was the problem? Wasn’t it how you imagined it?” I turned away. “Ah-ha! I think I’ve touched a nerve there, myself, haven’t I?”
I told myself not to give him the satisfaction of responding. His face leered at me. “So actually seeing Anna shafted didn’t fit your sweaty little idea of how it should be, is that it? The event didn’t match the fantasy?” He smirked. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
I could not keep quiet any longer. “You did it deliberately, didn’t you?”
“Did what deliberately?”
“Debased everything! You deliberately set out to spoil it!”
He seemed genuinely surprised. “Spoil it? What are you talking about? How did I spoil anything?”
I knew I was making a mistake, but could not stop. “You made it as obscene as you could! The things you did! All that... that positioning, so I could see everything!”
“I thought that was what you wanted?”
“Not like that! It was disgusting!”
He smirked. “Personally, I thought it was pretty good. And your precious Anna didn’t seem to find it too horrible either.”
“You intended to ruin it for me from the start, didn’t you?”
Zeppo gave an indifferent shrug. “You wanted to watch me fuck Anna, and you did. It’s not my fault if it wasn’t how you imagined.”
“You didn’t have to make it like that!”
“I didn’t make it like anything. That’s what sex is.” His voice was heavy with derision. “What the fuck did you expect? Something like one of your pretty pictures?” He snorted. “Well, it’s not like that. It’s not all set poses in real life. Real people move around. It’s all sweaty and noisy and smelly. You should try it sometime.”
I turned away. Zeppo laughed. “It’s no good looking like that, Donald. It’s true. Here. Smell.”
He pushed himself out of the chair and thrust his fingers under my nose. I jerked my head back and knocked his hand aside, belatedly realising it smelt only of soap and cologne. But I remembered the taint that had been in the air the night before, and with that memory came other, even less welcome images. I quickly thrust them away and turned on him.
“You disgust me!”
Zeppo’s grin turned sour, “I disgust you? Christ, that’s rich! Who the fuck are you to be disgusted by anyone?”
This was exactly the sort of scene I had wanted to avoid. “I can’t see any point in continuing with this,” I said, but Zeppo was not going to be put off.
“No, I bet you can’t,” he jeered. “Mr. Goody-fucking-Two-Shoes Ramsey! You fucking hypocrite. How can you still act self-righteous after what you’ve done? Jesus, you make me sick!”
“The feeling’s mutual, I assure you.”
“Balls! You’re not capable of feeling anything!” His voice was thick with contempt. “You’re a fucking eunuch, Donald! You should have stuck to collecting all those nice, hygienic pictures. They’re much safer than the real thing. They don’t do things you don’t want them to. And you can still tell yourself it’s art, can’t you?” He sneered at me. “You might fool yourself, Donald, but you don’t fool me. You’re just another sad, dirty old man who get his kicks looking at pictures of other people doing what he can’t. Only you’re too much of a coward to admit it.”
His words no longer touched me. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion,” I said, calmly.
“I don’t recall giving a fuck.”
We stared at each other. “If you’ve finished, I won’t keep you. The Cocteau’s over there.”
He went over to the table and picked it up. “I get the frame as well, do I? I am a lucky boy.”
“Not really. It’s ugly and rather tasteless. Like the sketch. I imagine it will suit you perfectly.”