In Bed With Lord Byron

warmly, reached into his jacket and said, ‘Sure – here’s my card.’
    I leaned over Anthony’s shoulder, examining it. I only just swallowed my laughter.
    AL CAPONE
    SECOND-HAND FURNITURE DEALER
    2220 SOUTH WABASH AVENUE
    ‘Hey, thanks,’ said Anthony, managing to keep a straight face and slotting the card into his jacket.
    ‘I’m sure we can find something for you,’ said Capone, patting him on the back.
    Then the game began.
    Without me.
    I stood there feeling like a total lemon. Then a platinum blonde sashayed in and went behind the bar, pouring some drinks. She beckoned me over.
    ‘Hey, I’m Dolores, I’m dating Ralph Capone,’ she said, nodding at the weaselly guy. ‘I’m afraid we girls don’t get to play,’ she said in a
conspiratorial whisper.
    ‘Why ever not?’ I whispered back furiously.
    She looked surprised. ‘You know what these boys are like. They’re all devils, but they want women who are angels. In fact, the more devilish they are, the more they seem to like
purity. Now, Angel, take this drink over to Mr Capone. It’s a Kemmerer Moon – his favourite,’ she added with a wink.
    When I set it down in front of him, Capone merely grunted. But as I turned away, I felt his hand gently brush my backside before it returned to his cards.
    ‘Well, Capone seems interested in
you
,’ Dolores said with a wink.
    ‘And you’re dating his brother?’ I asked, blushing.
    ‘Yup. We’re getting married tomorrow,’ she said.
    ‘You’re kidding, congratulations.’
    Dolores turned to me and smiled.
    ‘Thanks,’ she said warmly. ‘You and Anthony are welcome to come.’ She let out a sigh and lowered her voice. ‘My only worry is – you know – Capone is
going to use the wedding as a cover.’
    ‘What d’you mean?’ I quickly smoothed the excitement out of my voice, though inside I was tingling. This could be just the breakthrough we were looking for.
    ‘Ralph said Al is going to smuggle some drugs in inside the cake. And I said to him– how does that make
me
feel, using our wedding day to do his dirty business?’ She
broke off quickly, noticing that her fiancé was giving her a long look. She blew him a kiss and then bit her lip uneasily.
    The next time I took a drink over to Capone, he startled me by pulling me on to his lap. I smiled and smoothed down his collar, feeling rather self-conscious.
    As the next round of cards proceeded, I felt Capone gently rubbing my knee with his palm. Every so often his fingers trickled up my thigh and then – thank goodness – returned to my
knee again. And then he would reach up and nibble my ear lobe and whisper, ‘
Lucy!
’ in my ear. Which might have been nice, but I couldn’t help noticing he had rather bad
breath, tinged with cigar smoke and too much booze.
    I can’t say that I was turned on. Maybe it was partly embarrassment that this was all happening in front of Anthony, or maybe it was just the bad breath thing, but I had to steel myself
not to jump up and run back down the stairs. I was quite relieved when the game finished and the men packed up, leaving me and Anthony behind at the table with Capone.
    ‘You!’ Capone suddenly barked, nearly bursting my ear drums. It turned out he was addressing Anthony. ‘I don’t trust you. I don’t know why. There’s something
about you.’
    And then, to my horror, he took out a gun and laid it casually on the table.
    Oh God, I thought, Anthony is just not cut out for this. This is the man who likes to slump in front of the TV at night in stripy M&S slippers. Give him a PC with a problem and he’ll
fix it, but stick a gun in front of him and he’ll go to pieces.
    But to my astonishment, Anthony kept his cool.
    ‘I can understand that,’ he said, shrugging. ‘But I assure you, I want in.’
    ‘Well, how about a little test,’ said Capone. He hailed one of his men, who came over and laid out a white line of powder on the table.
    ‘This,’ said Capone, ‘is a little present. Now, it could be the real thing. Or it could be some sort of flour, or even rat poison, in which case those guys in Cuba are trying
to pull a fast one on me. Try it for me, Ant-to-nee.’ He drew his name out softly.
    I froze. I wanted to catch Anthony’s eye and signal it was time to leave. To let him know he didn’t have to do this, that things had gone far enough.
    ‘Sure,’ said Anthony, shrugging again. ‘I’ll give it a go.’
    What?
Anthony hated drugs; he got offended if he was