708 Helen lay beneath Rupert, her eyes glazed, her hair coming down, as responsive as a corpse, aware that Rupert was fondling Janey’s breasts at the same time. Finally the deafening cheers were silenced. “To your first Grand Prix,” said Billy, filling up a tooth mug and handing it to her. ”“That’s pubic hair, for Christ’s sake,” said Billy.
He felt absolutely shattered. Rupert and Billy mixed a champagne cocktail to start off with, which, with one and a half hours solid drinking before dinner, got everyone plastered. He realized something was up when Helen didn’t come down and say hullo, although far off were the days she’d charged down the stairs to fling herself into his arms. Jake took one look at the course.
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