Susan’s mother, who invariably opened the street door dressed as if expecting the Queen for afternoon tea, became almost “friendly” towards Peter for want of a better word…. She saw the transformation in her daughter, saw the boy becoming bigger and bouncier. Talk of letting Susan have the child back providing it was taken to the mother’s house. the mother very keen on this arrangement, she having the most attractive bungalow, slap in the middle of town.. worth a cock eyed fortune. The past, apparently forgotten, the Sun shone… only the dark shadow of Glenna who by now getting very up tight, she seeing which way the tide was running, it culminated in rather a surprise for Peter.
I had this, or I have? perhaps I still have, not quite sure ? yes, have this affinity for young women, as so many other men, if they but dare admitt it. Glenna completely aware of this. To compliment my penchant, she had the ability to chat these creatures, charm them out of the trees.. not quite mesmerize them…follow her like the pied piper, maybe.
Glenna lived at the YMCA Tottenham Court Road, wonderful gymnasium. Would sit, drink my coffee and watch her contortions, tricks, jumping up and down, running round and round, she incredibly athletic, not a ounce of fat on her.
She would sit with me after these exertions. follow my eyes, see where they were resting, whom they were resting upon, which particular female. Having assessed the position, she would quite casually walk over to whomever, sit down and start chatting, quite comfortably.. simple as that. Occasionally, the chosen girl would nod, go off, get dressed and we three would saunter out to the cab, drive up Tottenham Court Road, Camden Town, Holloway, Finsbury Park, Manor House, down into Darkest Hackney. Up the thirty nine steps and so all into bed. Not always so lucky.. nevertheless, something which brought a smile to my face.
Always deeply interested me to watch Glenna chat and then perform……….
She became more and more morose, believing I was about to ditch her for my new status in Bishops Stortford…..things were by now going so well up there, Susan naturally putting the pressure on Peter to pack London in, which included Glenna.. get a job down there.. Hardly saw myself working for peanuts in the country. Suited me, few nights in London, some nights in the country. Up and down the M.11. what was wrong with that…?
Glenna would come around while I was in town, cook hot peppery food and demand far more than I was able to give her in the huge bed with the plants twirling about it.
Must have been one evening, late August, fiddling about in the flat phone rang…Glenna.. she sounded unusually happy..
“Oh Hi Glen .. '' She , quite calm and collected, her soft, attractive, sultry voice, deceptively flat..
"You know the tall, half cast girl you fancied the other afternoon at the gym…” Her voice tailing off.
knew straight away who she was talking about, a right sort.. about nineteen. Peter took the bait immediately. Immediately wide awake.. “Yes” I said .. gently as I was able "she is coming to my room to see me this evening….for a drink.. are you interested ??" Tried not to fall over myself said I would…… Forgot about driving a cab…
All bathed , cleaned myself up, tried to not look too much like a saddle tramp.. Plenty of time ....time for Johns café, the gang , eggs and chips.. Thought I would sit there as I had done throughout my life… it did seem, have a chat about the interminable nothing, then amble round the corner to Great Russel street. How can that be bad for a evening's entertainment….
Pulled up outside John's, about 30 other cabs there, all straddled down the street. Pubs wide open, everyone spilling on to the pavements with the beer. A very warm evening. Lambs Conduit in its heyday.. really buzzing.
Eggs and chips, had my tea, had another tea, all the gossip, the small adventures.. hot from the crowded streets.. the loud, excited noise from the café flooding out into the street as it had always done.
I looked too near the mark.. enough to arouse some comment, the slightest thing.. the most personal details, openly discussed, thrown about the room, nothing ever missed. They said, quite loudly, more or less in unison, group mind.. group discussion “Well who have you got tonight !! No subtlety about their questioning or questions .. ‘’Not quite sure “ I parried.. “On a promise, Glenna has found something for me “ They, not quite satisfied with this, nevertheless knew it was all they would get.. Albert the knocker persisted.. ”Bet you are away with Glenna for a blow job “. Everyone had had erotic thoughts about Glenna’s lips.. where she may put them and to what degree. Her other, deeper aspect, something which had eluded them, I, hardly going to open my mouth for them to find out….
They, very basic, strangely, in some ways prudish.. Slap bang tickle.. was “Orlright” but to step beyond the prescribed bounds, raised questions on their foreheads.
When they had all gathered at the flat for my “Parties” the photographs always caused them problems ..mostly they looked , yet remained silent.. a remarkable feat for any cab driver. No I hardly felt inclined to fill them in on the other side of Glenna, or myself come to that.
Drove round to Great Russel Street. Glenna very pleased to see me.. perhaps more so than usual …. slightly nervous, perhaps…effusive… Suddenly she locked the door.. Immediately felt as if I were locked in a tiger’s cage, such was the tense atmosphere.
Had been locked in other females flats before.. this particular occasion, realized rather too late I had swallowed the bait, Glenna having Peter precisely where she wanted him, for whatever reason was bugging her..
In a moment of indecision went to the window, thought I would get out of that.. looked down, about seventeen floors beneath me.. so no way was I getting out of any windows, that was for sure.. Thought, well now I have to face whatever it is.
Then she went for me.. flying fists. Here we go again … she a very strong woman. Pleased it was her fists, not a knife. Led with my left and gave her a short right which put her down but not quite out, out, out long enough for me to escape into one of the six lifts. Went up, then halfway down , up again, thought, this is good, up, down.. straight into the arms of Glenna. So now had it on my heels away.. decided not to make for the cab, if she finds that she will simply sit in it, perhaps forever..
Could run quite well in those days. Glenna ran after me, the security man ran after the both of us thinking she was chasing a intruder.. a good evenings entertainment you may think. Soon out of breath. Glenna caught Peter, the security man caught us both. when he realized we more than knew each other, he ambled off muttering.
What do I do now! she firmly had hold of me up against a wall in a back alley, could hear civilization honking and grinding it’s way into oblivion. She, really cracked up, anyone could see she was gone, then out of the blue between gasps she said “I have not had my injection!!” Thought out loud “What injection!!”
“ Oh , every three months I have to have one to keep me calm… up at the Whittigton hospital”
Lovely !! had it away again. Jumped on a bus, she jumped on behind me, jumped off, ran down the tube escalator .. Then we played that game ..on the bus, off the bus. Down the tube, up the tube. All very charming. After about a hour of this, we both surfaced on Kings Cross.
I walked, rather stumbled, into the Wimpy Bar, she tailing close behind.. Sat down, I shaking quite visibly.. my evenings entertainment…
Midnight, the clock straddled over Kings cross starting to strike.. could hear it very clearly through a lull in the traffic. The St Pancras clock, deciding it was midnight ten minutes later ..then, so long as I could remember, it always lagged behind.
Glenna and I both sat appraising the situation in silence , not a word spoken for one of those rather long, uncomfortable moments in time. Quite suddenly, quite calmly, she stood up, gathered herself together, gave me a final look, turned her back and walked out.
Never saw her again
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...my friends and I
Back in bed for the afternoon, warm here, comfortable here, well looked after.. what is my problem…? Even look forward with equanimity to my seventy first birthday.. few of my friends have made it this far.. most of them are dead ..faded away. Barry still working seven days a week....Ron from Slough, highjack by his bankrupt son and grandchildren, they will never let him escape while he is sitting on a quarter of a million. A few others hang on ..John the coat.. hardly feel he will see fifty. A few more have made it so far as the Isle of Wight.. no further.…The "judge" bought a villa in Spain, but he in deep mire over that. Barry, beautifully set up in St Albans.. at the cost of his eyesight.. Another “long day man “ A longer one on Sundays. He had incredible operations on both eyes which are hardly the topics for discussion ..Told , as everyone, to stop smoking, as everyone, he has ignored this ..still 60 a day. A blind determination to achieve precisely what ?? at whatever cost. He lives mostly other people’s lives ..knows details of mine which I have long forgotten ..often asks “How old is Mark now ? ..”twenty eight.” .”Impossible !!” he always says. ….considering he used to bounce the boy on his knee in John’s café. Believe he has finaly seen the light after my gentle hints about his “retirement…!!” Decided he also will go precisely so far as the others.. along with his lifelong friend “Deaf Terry”. .and “Isle of Wight Bill” who quite suddenly, quite recently, dropped dead at the wheel …53.. finding that driving from Ryde to London ..add to that a twelve hour shift.. is hardly a sinecure.. suicide, rather more descriptive . Their problem .. they work without really seeing a end …where they are going …unable to see the wood for the trees.. The beginnings rarely know their ends.
Glenna
John’s Café, Lambs Conduit Street, W.1. London
The 9 p.m. gathering … everyone there.. full, all shouting, all laughing, noise rushing out onto the night … bait for those passing … curiosity aroused at such uproar .. so much life released into the dark, damp evening.
I never saw them, too engrossed in my sausages and chips… felt my knee being jolted by Mickey Kelly … looked at his face … followed his eyes … there they were, standing uncertainly by the counter, waiting for a seat, two of them, one White, one Black. Dropped my fork, clattering loudly on the heavy plate.
Kelly smiled.. He opened …
“Come on Darlings, come on, sit down here…”
Bernie from the depths … “I don’t know…” disgust that we had beaten him to it. The two ladies sitting down at the hastily cleared table.
Forgot Susan.. forgot Shenley, forgot my small sleeping son, Jack, forgot that silence, that sorrow, forgot the undulating, endless concrete of the M11, forgot all my troubles.
Licked my lips, Mr. Wolf, pursuing Red Riding Hood so assiduously, so insidiously, had nothing on us.
They had been on their way to the hospital round the corner, attracted .. moths to the light …
Mickey said ..
“What do you want to go there round for! .. my friend” … indicating me .. “he is a doctor!”
..Dutifully played my part, put on my serious face at their raised eyebrows… “What is wrong with you” evidently the white girl simply felt unwell.
Felt her pulse, asked her to put her tongue out, which she did. Total silence in the Café now, all watching, mouths open, teacups, cigarettes, poised motionless between fingers. Could feel Kelly choking with repressed laughter at the Ladies’ naïveté. The Black one, not quite so gullible, quickly sensing the situation, quickly deciding that she would prefer me to do more than feel her pulse and look at the colour of her tongue, the most incredible bright Pink, flashing against her pure White, perfect set of teeth, surrounded by thick, smooth lips.
No doubt, everyone had noticed this aspect of the lady, no doubt, all were thinking precisely the same erotic thought.
Glenna, for that was the large, Black lady’s name, knew what she wanted, what she had.
Not fat … simply big built, athletic, muscular, powerful, would, could, no doubt, “Suck me in and blow me out in bubbles..” So the saying goes. Evidently willing to laugh at anything, full to the brim with life, felt her vibrant waves flowing over me, pulsating from deep within her dark, strong, sensuous thighs.
Strange how that evening, so indelible on my mind, see quite clearly all the faces .. most gone, a few dead, a few simply faded away with the time. Bernie, John, washed up on the Shores of the South China Sea.
Remarkably, would say the men there on that particular night, now so long ago, were, in their own way, “happy” for need of a better word. Perhaps too, it could be said that particular night marked the beginning of the end … the decline of John’s Café, a man standing alone for almost half a century, the relegation of Lambs Conduit Street into just another innocuous, quiet thoroughfare, marked specifically, a turning point in my existence.
Strangely Glenna decided she liked the old man, the atmosphere of John’s café, unperturbed at our so obvious innuendoes, the so obvious implication of all our looks.
John started shuffling slightly faster than usual, ten p.m. approaching, he having been serving since six that morning. time for his son to collect him in John’s Rolls Royce. No, John had not worked for nothing, house with a sweeping drive facing the Thames.. the works.. what he saw of it after sixteen hours a day, every day, all three hundred and sixty five of them, for fifty years, certainly he closed at four p.m. early, on Xmas Day. May well have lived in the grotty room upstairs, where, on the few occasions he was ill, would lie in bed and bang on the ceiling with his stick if Lena did not ring up the money machine fast enough.
There was a wife ..never mentioned.. not difficult to imagine her.
One morning his daughter made a rare, cautious, visit to the money machine, I the only one in the café. John reached down under the old battered counter, the counter where the incredibly ancient money machine sat, pulled out a large battered leather bag. said to her “Here is the forty five thousand pounds you asked for” ..a great deal of money so long ago. I do believe she did say a rather belated, quick “thank you”
Suggested to Kelly we made up a foursome..he would not have it, having to get money.. under the cosh for it .
Looked like the usual routine.. not, however, shunting slowly round the Cross , a casual look there to see what was on offer. This was cut and dried. Quietly asked Glenna what we would do with her friend , without the slightest hesitation she said
‘Bring her with us.’ Kelly gave a look at this turn up.
People standing, paying at the counter, about half a dozen already outside, having the final chat for the evening before they had to climb back into their tin boxes, into the darkness, into the night, their solitary meandering through the crooked streets, the “muttering retreats”
Bernie sniffed at me with some disgust at my having beaten him to it as I stood waiting my turn to pay. Lena came up from the dark downstairs where she had been cooking relentlessly all day, she started stacking the chairs, wiping the battered, creaking floor over with a large mop.
Damp outside, air fresh, walked along the long line of parked cabs. Glenna and her friend climbed into the back, showed her how to sit on the ‘dicki’ seat, back to back with myself .
Pulled away, nodding to the watching faces, then it had always been like that.. other people living my life, as a child, always Peter who ran away, moved himself further than the porch.. the congregating point
Glenna it quickly became apparent, had a affinity , a power over other females.
Arriving at the flat, no formalities, she started taking her clothes off, told the girl to do likewise. which she complied with, maybe the slightest hesitation, afraid perhaps of Glenna, what she may do if displeased..
Not too sure which way I intended to play it. Three’s up, a rarity, most girls, even in Thailand, think twice, money changing hands at a much higher premium.
Decided, most interested in Glenna.
She made all the running, I should go first with the girl.. Glenna simply stroked her hair and watched, perhaps rather intently, a fixed expression on her face, a look to remember in the future.
Always thought Soss the greatest when it came to “the” other variation to straight sex, Barry maintaining on one particular occasion, believed she would suck his insides out. Glenna, as Cathy, as Soss, was ”something else”…more, much more.
Until that night had never realized there were actually such powerful females about, Certainly, as other men, fantasized about such a happening, the reality…?
Glenna had total control over the young woman, making love to her with, a determined, meticulous, perhaps sadistic satisfaction, not letting her escape, ignoring all pleas, until the girl, who, quite obviously could take no more, fell finally, breathlessly back, limp, exhausted .
+ ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +
Possibly this may be continued, concluded. Starting to feel beyond it all ..have said that which I wished to say, wanted to say, what had to be said.. why say any more?
The pattern only repeats itself.. death follows life inexorably. The same people, the same faces, the same tired worn out situations, places. The same tenuous female cliches “I am not ready for that yet !” ..”Don’t touch me !” a endless variety, all meaning precisely the same thing, the same total absorption in sex, money, suppose it is now necessary to add motor cars and football... then, what else? Good question..
I have no answer.
No, not .. ” With a bang, but a whimper”
No, hardly that ..not for myself any way ..
A faint smile.. perhaps, maybe.
The 9 p.m. gathering … everyone there.. full, all shouting, all laughing, noise rushing out onto the night … bait for those passing … curiosity aroused at such uproar .. so much life released into the dark, damp evening.
I never saw them, too engrossed in my sausages and chips… felt my knee being jolted by Mickey Kelly … looked at his face … followed his eyes … there they were, standing uncertainly by the counter, waiting for a seat, two of them, one White, one Black. Dropped my fork, clattering loudly on the heavy plate.
Kelly smiled.. He opened …
“Come on Darlings, come on, sit down here…”
Bernie from the depths … “I don’t know…” disgust that we had beaten him to it. The two ladies sitting down at the hastily cleared table.
Forgot Susan.. forgot Shenley, forgot my small sleeping son, Jack, forgot that silence, that sorrow, forgot the undulating, endless concrete of the M11, forgot all my troubles.
Licked my lips, Mr. Wolf, pursuing Red Riding Hood so assiduously, so insidiously, had nothing on us.
They had been on their way to the hospital round the corner, attracted .. moths to the light …
Mickey said ..
“What do you want to go there round for! .. my friend” … indicating me .. “he is a doctor!”
..Dutifully played my part, put on my serious face at their raised eyebrows… “What is wrong with you” evidently the white girl simply felt unwell.
Felt her pulse, asked her to put her tongue out, which she did. Total silence in the Café now, all watching, mouths open, teacups, cigarettes, poised motionless between fingers. Could feel Kelly choking with repressed laughter at the Ladies’ naïveté. The Black one, not quite so gullible, quickly sensing the situation, quickly deciding that she would prefer me to do more than feel her pulse and look at the colour of her tongue, the most incredible bright Pink, flashing against her pure White, perfect set of teeth, surrounded by thick, smooth lips.
No doubt, everyone had noticed this aspect of the lady, no doubt, all were thinking precisely the same erotic thought.
Glenna, for that was the large, Black lady’s name, knew what she wanted, what she had.
Not fat … simply big built, athletic, muscular, powerful, would, could, no doubt, “Suck me in and blow me out in bubbles..” So the saying goes. Evidently willing to laugh at anything, full to the brim with life, felt her vibrant waves flowing over me, pulsating from deep within her dark, strong, sensuous thighs.
Strange how that evening, so indelible on my mind, see quite clearly all the faces .. most gone, a few dead, a few simply faded away with the time. Bernie, John, washed up on the Shores of the South China Sea.
Remarkably, would say the men there on that particular night, now so long ago, were, in their own way, “happy” for need of a better word. Perhaps too, it could be said that particular night marked the beginning of the end … the decline of John’s Café, a man standing alone for almost half a century, the relegation of Lambs Conduit Street into just another innocuous, quiet thoroughfare, marked specifically, a turning point in my existence.
Strangely Glenna decided she liked the old man, the atmosphere of John’s café, unperturbed at our so obvious innuendoes, the so obvious implication of all our looks.
John started shuffling slightly faster than usual, ten p.m. approaching, he having been serving since six that morning. time for his son to collect him in John’s Rolls Royce. No, John had not worked for nothing, house with a sweeping drive facing the Thames.. the works.. what he saw of it after sixteen hours a day, every day, all three hundred and sixty five of them, for fifty years, certainly he closed at four p.m. early, on Xmas Day. May well have lived in the grotty room upstairs, where, on the few occasions he was ill, would lie in bed and bang on the ceiling with his stick if Lena did not ring up the money machine fast enough.
There was a wife ..never mentioned.. not difficult to imagine her.
One morning his daughter made a rare, cautious, visit to the money machine, I the only one in the café. John reached down under the old battered counter, the counter where the incredibly ancient money machine sat, pulled out a large battered leather bag. said to her “Here is the forty five thousand pounds you asked for” ..a great deal of money so long ago. I do believe she did say a rather belated, quick “thank you”
Suggested to Kelly we made up a foursome..he would not have it, having to get money.. under the cosh for it .
Looked like the usual routine.. not, however, shunting slowly round the Cross , a casual look there to see what was on offer. This was cut and dried. Quietly asked Glenna what we would do with her friend , without the slightest hesitation she said
‘Bring her with us.’ Kelly gave a look at this turn up.
People standing, paying at the counter, about half a dozen already outside, having the final chat for the evening before they had to climb back into their tin boxes, into the darkness, into the night, their solitary meandering through the crooked streets, the “muttering retreats”
Bernie sniffed at me with some disgust at my having beaten him to it as I stood waiting my turn to pay. Lena came up from the dark downstairs where she had been cooking relentlessly all day, she started stacking the chairs, wiping the battered, creaking floor over with a large mop.
Damp outside, air fresh, walked along the long line of parked cabs. Glenna and her friend climbed into the back, showed her how to sit on the ‘dicki’ seat, back to back with myself .
Pulled away, nodding to the watching faces, then it had always been like that.. other people living my life, as a child, always Peter who ran away, moved himself further than the porch.. the congregating point
Glenna it quickly became apparent, had a affinity , a power over other females.
Arriving at the flat, no formalities, she started taking her clothes off, told the girl to do likewise. which she complied with, maybe the slightest hesitation, afraid perhaps of Glenna, what she may do if displeased..
Not too sure which way I intended to play it. Three’s up, a rarity, most girls, even in Thailand, think twice, money changing hands at a much higher premium.
Decided, most interested in Glenna.
She made all the running, I should go first with the girl.. Glenna simply stroked her hair and watched, perhaps rather intently, a fixed expression on her face, a look to remember in the future.
Always thought Soss the greatest when it came to “the” other variation to straight sex, Barry maintaining on one particular occasion, believed she would suck his insides out. Glenna, as Cathy, as Soss, was ”something else”…more, much more.
Until that night had never realized there were actually such powerful females about, Certainly, as other men, fantasized about such a happening, the reality…?
Glenna had total control over the young woman, making love to her with, a determined, meticulous, perhaps sadistic satisfaction, not letting her escape, ignoring all pleas, until the girl, who, quite obviously could take no more, fell finally, breathlessly back, limp, exhausted .
+ ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +
Possibly this may be continued, concluded. Starting to feel beyond it all ..have said that which I wished to say, wanted to say, what had to be said.. why say any more?
The pattern only repeats itself.. death follows life inexorably. The same people, the same faces, the same tired worn out situations, places. The same tenuous female cliches “I am not ready for that yet !” ..”Don’t touch me !” a endless variety, all meaning precisely the same thing, the same total absorption in sex, money, suppose it is now necessary to add motor cars and football... then, what else? Good question..
I have no answer.
No, not .. ” With a bang, but a whimper”
No, hardly that ..not for myself any way ..
A faint smile.. perhaps, maybe.
John's Cafe. Spring morning, 1984.
Sun streaming through the window, must have been about ten a.m. no one else in the place, too late for breakfast, too early for lunch, the gang out grafting. Woman sitting in that seat, the one all alone at a angle to the shop, small table and the single chair, seen her before , never bothered, spent her time staring at the wall.
Read my paper, chewed my egg and chips while mulling over the politics as put out by those who know so much more than us plebeians.
Tony with the beard breezed in .. always in a terrible hurry about life, completely overwhelmed by anything female. Plunked himself down other side of my table, ordered his food, clapping his hands, rubbing them together, beaming at everything and anyone.. especially the woman in the corner. "Hello Sue" Nudged me, winked "all right then ?" knowing Tony, he would stand up, simply drop his trousers such is his way of greeting females.. Makes no bones about his approach. Dapper, I imagine would cover him.. always a clean collar, tie suit, maybe overcoat.. such a well meaning, helpful person. Unfortunately not the slightest business acumen, almost without saying .. has the most fearful, dominating wife. His overwhelming attitude in this large room with us, simply a reaction to "her indoors". Most sad, yet what else? Without such a woman, he would probably be a nothing. She tells him precisely what to do and when to do it. He told me a story.. how he went out of his very smart house one morning, ten minutes later, realised forgotten something, went back in time to see his wife getting into a car with a young man. Tony, evidently completely ignored that situation, feasibly because his brain could not handle it, too engrossed in getting money for a new this or a new that.. currently, a Citroen car and a fitted kitchen.
She had given him his instructions.. when he was to have earned the money by.. not to bother her in the meantime. Once she had visited the Cafe.. checking him out, had sat down exactly where he was now sitting, without any hesitation, asked me how much Tony was earning? and how much time "Did he waste in this place?" looking about disdainfully. The clothes on her back alone, must have cost a bomb.. not taking into account the rotten precocious kid (at private school naturally) and her son by a previous marriage Tony was also maintaining...Cab drivers!!
Read my paper, chewed my egg and chips while mulling over the politics as put out by those who know so much more than us plebeians.
Tony with the beard breezed in .. always in a terrible hurry about life, completely overwhelmed by anything female. Plunked himself down other side of my table, ordered his food, clapping his hands, rubbing them together, beaming at everything and anyone.. especially the woman in the corner. "Hello Sue" Nudged me, winked "all right then ?" knowing Tony, he would stand up, simply drop his trousers such is his way of greeting females.. Makes no bones about his approach. Dapper, I imagine would cover him.. always a clean collar, tie suit, maybe overcoat.. such a well meaning, helpful person. Unfortunately not the slightest business acumen, almost without saying .. has the most fearful, dominating wife. His overwhelming attitude in this large room with us, simply a reaction to "her indoors". Most sad, yet what else? Without such a woman, he would probably be a nothing. She tells him precisely what to do and when to do it. He told me a story.. how he went out of his very smart house one morning, ten minutes later, realised forgotten something, went back in time to see his wife getting into a car with a young man. Tony, evidently completely ignored that situation, feasibly because his brain could not handle it, too engrossed in getting money for a new this or a new that.. currently, a Citroen car and a fitted kitchen.
She had given him his instructions.. when he was to have earned the money by.. not to bother her in the meantime. Once she had visited the Cafe.. checking him out, had sat down exactly where he was now sitting, without any hesitation, asked me how much Tony was earning? and how much time "Did he waste in this place?" looking about disdainfully. The clothes on her back alone, must have cost a bomb.. not taking into account the rotten precocious kid (at private school naturally) and her son by a previous marriage Tony was also maintaining...Cab drivers!!
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