I wondered if he was drunk. But he seemed sober enough. I ignored the jibe. "What exactly did you tel her?"
"Just that we'd got to go to a boring party. I bet her she couldn't get off with whoever I picked out. To give us more chance I said she could have a week to do it in, so long as she makes a start tonight."
"And she agreed?"
"Oh yeah. Provided I didn't pick anyone who was either gay or too old to get it up."
"Good God." I looked at the girl again. Two men were already talking to her. "What on earth did you bet her?"
"Whoever loses has to be the other one's slave for a day. They have to do whatever the other wants." A rather unpleasant smile touched his lips. "I've already got one or two ideas if she loses." He shrugged.
"But she'd stil have done it if it had only been for a packet of crisps. Angle's game for anything. Now why don't you pour me a drink like you said, and point the happy couple out for me." I glanced around to check where Anna and Marty were. "They're over by the far wal to your left. What would you like to drink?"
"A Manhattan. Same for Angie, since you forgot to ask her." He glanced over. "The one with dark hair and the black dress?"
"Yes." He raised his eyebrows. "Not bad. I see what you mean about the boyfriend. No wonder you're pissed off."
"Quite."
"He must have a big cock." I slopped the vermouth on to the table.
Zeppo grinned. "Sorry."
I handed him the drinks, impassively mopping up the spilt liquid. "I don't real y think that sort of talk is appropriate, do you?" I said.
"I trust you'l be able to restrain yourself when you talk to Anna."
A smirk played around his mouth. "I'l be a perfect gentleman, don't worry." In view of his strange behaviour that was easier said than done. "When do you intend to start?" He shrugged. "No time like the present. I'l get Angie away from those two before she drags them into the bedroom, and we can al go over." Trying to ignore my misgivings, I led the way to where Anna and Marty were talking with a middle-aged woman, an acquaintance of mine who ran an interior design business.
"I don't think any of you have met Angie and Zeppo," I said. I performed the introductions, then turned to Marty. "There's someone over here you might like to meet. A fel ow countryman of yours."
"Oh ... yes, okay." He gave Anna a quick look as I guided him away, pretending not to notice his lack of enthusiasm.
"I'm sure you'l enjoy talking to him," I said, steering him towards the other American, a man I hardly knew, and who I had invited expressly for that purpose. I left them together and wandered off, catching Zeppo's eye and giving a brief nod. Shortly afterwards I saw the girl he had brought detach herself and go to the drinks table. But instead of returning to Zeppo, she strol ed over to where Marty was listening with a bored expression to the older man. He seemed pleased at the interruption.
I poured myself another drink and tried to relax. Then I noticed that the designer was stil talking to Anna and Zeppo. I went over.
"My dear Miriam, I almost forgot! You must come and have a look at my new acquisition. I bought it for purely commercial reasons, and I would love your opinion. Personal y, I think it's awful, so there's a good chance you'l like it." She laughed. "In that case you're probably right." I explained to Anna and Zeppo. "We have a long-standing argument over what qualifies as art and what's simply design, and I've been dying to fuel the fire with this particular monstrosity for ages."
"Donald, you're just a nineteenth-century throwback," Miriam said.
"Sometimes I despair of you."
"Then there's hope for me yet. But I doubt even you can defend this abomination. I can't wait to sel it, to be honest. I only kept it here to show you." I took her arm and eased her away. The painting was in another room. As we went out I looked back. Anna was laughing at something Zeppo had said. At the other side Marty and the girl seemed deep in conversation. I took both as