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something silly and then making up in a variety of interesting positions and locations and then not being able to remember what the row had been about in the first place. He fancied this girl like mad, he fancied her purely and spiritually. This girl clearly oozed with character, intelligence and…lots of other things like that. This, CD knew, was what had captured his heart so suddenly. Obviously he desperately wanted to root her as well but, CD assured himself, that wasn’t the only thing.
    He had to make a move. Never would such a conversation opener exist again. They were fellow lags, joined by that invisible fellowship that unites the criminal fraternity. Comrades, forced together against a hostile world. Normally when you go up to a strange girl and try to start up a conversation, reflected CD, it’s bloody obvious that you’re making a play for them. But this was different. This time he had the perfect opener, plus endless opportunities for idle chatter, casually getting to know each other through their shared experiences under the majesty of the law. One thing CD was certain of, he resolved to be himself (whatever he thought that was). His recent experience of pretending to be a committed peace-nik had led him to near financial ruin and he hadn’t even got a root. CD determined that this time there would be no lying or deceit, she would have to accept him for what he was.
    ‘So you got done for trying to ban the bomb,’ said Rachel from across the pub, ‘I think that’s really great.’
    ‘What? Oh yeah.’ CD replied, ‘I’m a pretty committed peace-nik.’ He was nothing if not adaptable.
    Rachel was interested. ‘I’ve been wondering about all that stuff myself,’ she said. ‘I used to go out with an American sailor, he was OK but his mates were real dags. Totally war obsessed.’
    ‘Yeah well, maybe it’s not their fault, it’s all indoctrination isn’t it?’ said CD magnanimously. ‘No way!’ replied Rachel. ‘People have to make their own decisions.’
    ‘Oh yeah, that’s true too,’ conceded CD hurriedly.
    ‘That’s why I think what you did was good,’ said Rachel, ‘You have to decide what you’re into, and go for it…‘ This had always been Rachel’s way. During her brief punk phase she had dyed her beautiful red hair mauve and her father had cried. She hadn’t even wanted to do it much but what was the point of being a punk if you didn’t dye your hair? CD’s crime interested Rachel because it was self- expression for a purpose. For a long time she had been uncomfortably aware that she was wasting her time and that she didn’t really care about anything. She was interested in someone who did.
    CD, sadly, was, to coin a phrase, interested in one thing and he was desperately trying to think of a good line to edge him towards it…‘By the way, my name’s CD. You look fantastic in that suit.’ As he said it he knew it was a mistake. This girl was into peace, she was a thinker, he couldn’t blagg her with cheap flattery. He might just as well have marched straight up and asked her to sleep with him.
    ‘Sorry, what a stupid thing to say. I might just as well have marched right up and asked you to sleep with me.’ What was he saying! If the suit line was a mistake, this was a disaster! Seldom had a chat-up situation been so ineptly handled. CD had to recoup the situation. Quickly he reminded himself that he was cool. He reminded himself that he was, after all, wearing cowboy boots with metal tips, pretend torn trousers and shades — a combination little short of sexual dynamite. He had started badly but all he needed to do was to stay cool and let his trousers do the talking.
    ‘OK it’s like this, I have just taken a pretty heavy rap for defending world peace and I’m confused. Now if you don’t let me start again, swearing that you have forgotten all that has passed between us so far, I’m going to kill myself. The choice is yours.’
    ‘It’s a free