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” I did so.I went to the dinner for the African President. It was what Libby called a ‘full-fig’ do; dinner jackets, evening dresses, jewellery ...nd medals. Libby, as I may have said before, makes no concession to convention and wore a tuxedo, white, over black trousers and a purple bow tie. She looked fantastic of course. My dress was deep blue, tiny straps and tight at the waist. My shoes matched. As we were presented to the President a few eyebrows were raised particularly because in his. Eric lifted both arms and flexed his hands.“Okay. I get it. I understand now. You are, in fact, the scariest motherfucker on the planet,” he said. “Can I have that drink, now?”“Sure,” said Bobby, calmly.Eric didn’t use the glass. He took a long slug straight from the bottle.“Easy there, hero,” I said. “I don’t need you getting wasted.”“Just fuck me to tears,” he sighed.“Does everybody in the army want to fornicate all the time?” asked Bobby.Bobby was asleep. We had gone back to the motel,. More

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