Page 14 of A Night with Damien Spur

‘Well, that was venomous!’ Angus said. ‘Apparently, she’s read all your books and is a great fan. Asked the PR to invite you.’

‘You’re lying.’

‘Yes I am.’

‘Okay, so I won’t be coming.’

‘Fine, but maybe I can change your mind.’ Angus paused…

‘Well?’

‘Well, I just happen to know that Sophie Fox is going.’

‘I’ll have a think. Let me ring you back.’

Go on, Damien, you need a bit of circuit training,said the Voice.You’re networking in the wrong places. Last night was such a waste of time. Cost you a fortune and for what? You couldn’t even get it up. Had to go home with your tail between your legs. Not good for your street cred.

‘Oh, button up with your lectures.’

All right. If you don’t want my advice, just do what you want. But you’re a mess. And I’m the only one who can sort you out.

‘Okay,’ Damien sighed. ‘I’ll tell Angus that I’m going.’

Good. That’s the spirit. Visits to whore houses are not the place to find a soulmate.

‘I didn’t go there looking for a soulmate,’ replied Damien, reaching into the back of the freezer for an ice pack to nurse his swollen cheek.

Clear your head and keep off the ganja,said the Voice.You know that after a couple of spliffs you talk gibberish.

***

It was late afternoon when Damien left his house. He trodcarefully down the stone steps and unlocked his car, mercifully parked outside.

He arrived at the White Space at 6 p.m.

The flat pedestrian concrete building in Bermondsey had that cold, edgy look that was popular with the new guard.

Damien preferred the welcoming architectural glory of the RA, the National Portrait Gallery and Tate Britain.

It was the contrast that excited him.

The old with the new.

‘Damien Spur,’ he said to the woman who stood at the entrance with a clipboard and pen.

‘Ah yes, here you are.’ She scrolled down the list and ticked him off with a flourish. ‘It’s good that you could come. I really enjoyedWriting in the Sand.’

‘Thank you.’ He gave her a friendly smile. He was used to being recognised but it always gave him a buzz.

‘It’s a pity I hadn’t seen the guest list before today or I would have brought my book in for you to sign.’

‘Never mind, maybe another time,’ he replied.

He liked her face. Big intelligent eyes, a sweet smile – and that lilting Jamaican voice.

Too young for you, said the Voice.

Damien walked through the open door.

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