Acid Lullaby Read Online Free Page A

how did the little girl from the ghetto become a big shot bond trader?’
    Liz feigned annoyance. ‘Hey, buddy! I didn’t come from any ghetto.’
    ‘Queens?’
    ‘It’s a very respectable neighbourhood. My father worked at the airport.’
    ‘Carrying baggage?’
    ‘He’s an engineer, smart-ass. And he didn’t care too much for limeys, either.’
    ‘Limeys!’ Max laughed at the tired expression. ‘Is this nineteen forty-two?’
    Liz bridled slightly. ‘Well, don’t you have a nickname for us?’
    ‘Yeah,’ Max paused for effect. ‘Fuckwits.’
    ‘Asshole.’
    ‘I’m kidding. New York’s okay,’ Fallon said. ‘The people are friendlier than Londoners, that’s for sure. Central Park beats the shit out of any of London’s parks.’
    ‘Central Park is Valhalla if you’re a jogger,’ Liz conceded. ‘I prefer Hampstead Heath, though. I go up there on Sunday mornings. Kids fly their kites on the top of Parliament Hill. Beautiful.’
    ‘Whatever rings your bell,’ Fallon sniffed.
    ‘So do you live near here? In the centre of town.’
    Max shook his head. ‘I’ve got a place in Chelsea. I’m buying a gaff out in the countryside.’
    ‘Sweet. An olde English cottage?’
    ‘Something like that. I’ve got this dream of renovating an old manor house. You know, doing the English country gentleman thing. Bring up kids in the countryside. I wouldn’t bring up my dinner in London now.’ He looked at her, half-embarassed. ‘It’s silly, really.’
    ‘I don’t think so,’ said Liz. ‘Where have you been looking?’
    ‘How good’s your geography?’
    ‘Try me.’
    ‘East Cambridgeshire.’
    ‘You got me.’
    ‘I’m from Cambridge originally. My father still lives up there. There’s some great old places on the Suffolk border.’
    ‘That’s a long drive.’
    ‘Not in a Porsche.’
    ‘In this country any drive’s a long drive. I thought you had a jeep.’
    ‘I’ve got a Land Cruiser and a Porsche 911.’ He noticed her necklace. ‘Why are you wearing that Egyptian thing?’
    ‘It’s an ankh.’ She held it up for him to look at. Inevitably, his eyes wandered down.
    ‘I know what it is. Why are you wearing it?’
    ‘It’s a life symbol.’
    ‘Sweet.
    ‘What about you? What’s with the book?’
    Max looked down at Gods and Myths. He smiled. Liz noticed he had very white teeth. ‘That’s an old friend.’
    ‘How come?’
    ‘I lived in India when I was a kid. My father worked at the British Embassy in Delhi. I used to get so bored on my own. Sometimes I stole books from the library at the English School. This was one of the best ones: Hindu myths, gods and demons and shit. I love all that stuff. It’s silly but when I was eight my mum entered me in some school fancy-dress competition as a Hindu god. I’ve always had a passing interest since then.’
    ‘Why were you on your own?’
    Fallon’s expression clouded briefly. ‘My mum died soon after we moved there. There was a car accident.’
    ‘I’m sorry.’
    ‘Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault,’ Fallon replied crisply. ‘Unless you were driving a motorbike through the northern suburbs of Delhi in November 1971.’
    ‘Did you win?’ Liz ignored his weak attempt at humour.
    ‘Win what?’
    ‘The fancy-dress competition.’
    ‘Of course.’
    Liz held up the old book in her hands and flicked through. She winced at some of the pictures. ‘Man. This would give me nightmares.’
    ‘Assuming you get to sleep tonight.’
    She ignored the flirtation. ‘So you’re a closet intellectual?’
    ‘Hardly.’
    ‘What did you read at College?’
    ‘Philosophy.’
    ‘No shit?’
    ‘Yes shit. You say “shit” too much, by the way.’
    ‘Bullshit.’
    ‘Actually, I read Philosophy for two years then I changed to Theology.’
    ‘Why, for Christ’s sake?’
    ‘That’s a bad joke if you meant it. To be honest, I found philosophy boring. Theology was more to do with belief systems and religious mythology: much