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."I'm sosorry we got our wires crossed.Good night."John, meanwhile, was wearing the gratifying expression of a bloke who's just realized he's been had."Nowshall we go?" I said sweetly.He said nothing till the door had closed behind us."All right, I'm sorry," he said, holding up his hands as if to ward off a frenzied bashing with a handbag.Until then, I'd have left it there.I just wasn't the type to throw a principled fit if a bloke who could affordit insisted on paying; I'd be more likely to pass out with shock.However, since he was obviouslyexpecting a principled fit, it seemed a shame to disappoint him."Do you realize how stupid I felt? Was ityour idea to tell me it was 'free today'?""Is that what he said?" His grin was almost enough to provoke a frenzied bashing after all."All right, I'msorry!" he added, seeing my face."We agreed!" Well, we had.A passing couple gave us nosily interested looks as they went by, but we ignored them."All right, so I'mone of those prehistoric bastards who likes to pay," he said."If it really bothers you that much, you canpay me back.""I don't carry that kind of cash!""A check, then.Look, can we continue this argument in a cab? It's brass-monkey stuff out here." Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlIt was, too, with one of those winds that have only recently emigrated from Siberia.My coat wasdesigned more for looks than thermals, but it was a good deal better than his, which he'd evidently left athome."I haven't got my checkbook.I hardly ever carry it.""Then you pay next time.I swear I'll play ball.""Who said there's going to be a next time?" To tell the truth, I was enjoying this little game.I eventhought I'd take it a bit further.After all, a brief chase would make it all the sweeter when I eventually lethim catch me.I don't watchAnimal Earth for nothing: all those stroppy female kangaroos cunninglyrepelling Mr.Roo's advances to see whether he's got the requisite guts and stamina.Accordingly I started a fast walk toward the underground, which was a good five minutes away, eventhe way I walk when I'm pretending to be mad and it's freezing.I will fully admit that I knew he'd follow.I can spot a wimpy Mr.Roo at fifty paces.He kept up manfully."It's starting to rain, in case you hadn't noticed.""It's not rain.It's sleet." Already a few fat, wet splodges were decorating my black, fifteen percentcashmere mix."So it is," he said, in determinedly cheerful tones."Thank God I didn't bring a coat I haven't felt thisclose to the elements in weeks."We carried on past shop windows full of Christmas displays and twinkly lights."Where are you off to,just out of interest?" he asked."The underground where do you think?""All the way to Piccadilly Circus? Wouldn't you prefer to be stroppy in a cab?""You call this stroppy? Wait till I really get going.And who said I'm going to Piccadilly Circus?""You did.Before you decided I was a sexist bastard who needed sorting out.""Well, you said it." He was doing brilliantly in the Mr.Roo stakes Mother Nature would have beenproud of him.The sleet was rapidly getting both heavier and sleetier.It was precisely the sort of weatherthat made me wonder why I wasn't still teaching third conditionals in the sun."Aren't you getting this just a bit out of proportion?" he asked as I strode on like something out ofSoldier, Soldier."That depends entirely on your perception of 'proportion.I was rather pleased with this: superficiallyintelligent and impressive while scoring zero on the Plain English scale.""I'm too cold to cope with big words," he said."Two syllables are about my limit in polar-bear weather.I could just about cope with, 'Sod off, will you?' "I wasn't going that far, in case he actually sodded."Those are all one syllable." I stepped off thepavement to avoid a crowd of thirty-somethings blocking the way.Having just spilled out of an Italianrestaurant, they looked and sounded as if they'd been enjoying a riotous Christmas party
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