Running Commentary: Daphne Caruana Galizias notebook Commentary ← Older Newer → Archives UPDATED WITH CH 1 OF H. P. BAXXTER’S NOVELLA: Caught between the competing attentions of village Venus Kerstin Ancilleri and official girlfriend Vanessa Grech, the Law Commissioner takes drastic action to disguise himself in Valletta this morning Published: November 21, 2013 at 7:27pm Cock Members of my international worldwide network of spies saw an interesting scene (one of many) in South Street, Valletta a few days ago. There stood Vanessa Grech, the Law Commissioner’s ‘official girlfriend’, on his Strait Street c/w South Street office doorstep, ringing and ringing the bell in a fine drizzle of rain. No reply. She gave up and wandered off down to a restaurant in the same street. Minutes later, the office door opened and the Law Commissioner appeared, checked that the coast was clear, and hurried down the street towards the same restaurant which his girlfriend had entered. Minutes later, he emerged from the restaurant, hurried back up to his office, unlocked the door and – surprise! – a young lady walked out. My spies didn’t wish to make any hasty conjectures, but it looked like she had been locked in so that he could emerge from the office alone – and if he found the other lady still there in the street, he could say ‘Sorry, darling, when you rang the bell I was in the lavatory’ or whatever the equivalent is in Hal Ghaxaq. ———– Meanwhile, H. P. Baxxter has very kindly written and sent in the first chapter of a novella inspired by the complicated love life of the Law Commissioner and Chief of Constitutional Reform. DON’T MAKE ME DO IT! This is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. - Perfectly Legal, Legally Perfect - A novel Chapter One The empty street. The door. Then the knock. Sudden, unexpected. It hit him like a gavel. Who could it be? He wasn’t expecting any clients this afternoon. Hot, furious, sweating, throbbing between arousal and fear, he waited. For two seconds. For two minutes. Then he breathed. She lay beneath him, spread like a sheaf of legal papers, like the Book of Common Law, open at Article 69, Paragraph The Second Attempt, Line of Concentration. The black gown framed her so perfectly. The First Hall of the Civil Court will smell of musk tomorrow. Once more he set about the business. M’Lud, I wish to develop this line of questioning. I hereby present Exhibit A. Where is this all leading to, Counsellor? Would the Counsel for the Defence come to the point please? Come. The points. He buried his face in them and breathed deeply, inhaling. Chanel with a hint of Tippex. Again, the knocking on the door. Again! This time he withdrew his statement and fumbled for his mobile phone, ever ready, pulsating with a life of its own. Eleven messages. Fifteen phone calls. Had he really taken that long? The he realised he hadn’t concluded his argument yet. “You must go,” he snarled. “But why? We’ve only just started?” “Go now! I have a heart! I have feelings too! I am human!” “My powerful, darling rooster, what is the matter?” “Leave now! I am trapped in an aquarium of despair! An aviary of deceit!” And she consented. Like so many jurors before her, she had been awed by the strength of his arguments, by the power of his iambic pentameter, by his masterful presence. Top job. Frantically, he grabbed at the pile of discarded clothing and squeezed himself back into his business suit while she got dressed. Two minutes had gone by since the last phone call. He raced her down the stairs and listened. Then he looked through the keyhole. The coast was clear. He bade her leave. No, no time for a final kiss. Leave. Fifteen minutes he waited. Then he steeled himself and opened the door. He stepped outside and strutted off to the cafe. On the corner he passed a street sweeper, who looked at him curiously. He strode on and entered the cafe. “Darling!” he said. —— Chapter Two The street sweeper squinted at the man swaggering down the narrow street. Why was he wearing a woman’s blouse? TO BE CONTINUED….
Posted on: Fri, 22 Nov 2013 16:08:23 +0000
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