A tale of the downfall of another powerful predatory male and its aftershocks.<\/p>\n
So once more I visited the eye-wateringly expensive restaurant, Nobed. It is a haunt of celebrities as I discovered from my reality TV-obsessed husband, Thomas, after my last visit. That venture into the world of grotesque inequality was to take lunch with Crispin McDonal, my former star pupil and finance wizard.\u00a0 But this most recent visit was not the lunch we had planned in the heady early days of the Truss\/Kwarteng revolution.<\/p>\n
You see, Crispin\u2019s star had fallen with the Truss\/Kwarteng humiliation on top of which he was facing more accusations of impropriety with women.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Instead of being ushered to a prominent table by the windows, I was led through the restaurant to a private room where Crispin\u2019s grim-faced minder manned the door. Crispin squinted nervously at me as I entered the room. When he reached to shake my hand, he squealed with pain and swore. It emerged later that his directors had insisted that he have a shocking electrical device fitted to stop his \u201coctopus arms\u201d from wandering which he kept forgetting about.<\/p>\n
\nFive more women had \u201ccome out of the woodwork\u201d claiming that he had \u201cacted inappropriately\u201d and their stories had appeared in a podcast entitled The Octopus.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n
Once I had sat down he began his rant. \u201cThe grey suits are back in charge and we are heading for death by boredom. What was the point of Brexit if we end up still under control of the bureaucrats and woke brigade? We wanted freedom from these petty people to return to Britain\u2019s glory days, to once more stride across the globe.\u201d And on and on he went in a similar vein while I was struggling to get the waiter\u2019s attention to order a double scotch, which I was clearly going to need.<\/p>\n
It took some time for the real issue to emerge. Five more women had \u201ccome out of the woodwork\u201d claiming that he had \u201cacted inappropriately\u201d and their stories had appeared in a podcast entitled The Octopus<\/em>.\u00a0 He had got through the last court case with his \u201chonour intact\u201d but now his cronies, who he had made \u201cfucking rich\u201d, were turning on him. Hence the shocking device to control his movements. He had only accepted this to avoid being thrown to the wolves \u201clike Weinstein.\u201d\u00a0 Some of the cronies happened to be related to the women in question which didn\u2019t help \u2013 his predilection for posh totty did him no favours.<\/p>\n
Slowly he calmed down with the help of a number of large oysters washed down with champagne. He had a plan. It was time for him to escape to Bezos\u2019 luxury island in the Pacific \u2013 volcanic so it wasn\u2019t going to sink below the waves \u2013 where each man could be sovereign without any petty rules and with lots of gorgeous, available young ladies.\u00a0 He had been advised that we were soon going to hit some pretty bumpy tipping points in climate change and he didn\u2019t want to hang around to see what happened next.\u00a0 The island had a fair-sized rocket designed for this situation. All he had to do was \u201cpay the price\u201d, which meant a serious liquidation of his assets.<\/p>\n
At last the traditional exploding chocolate balls arrived, which I now knew how to eat safely since my previous misadventure at this restaurant, and I was able to escape.\u00a0 It was sad though to see such a titan brought so low and I will miss my top-tier lunches with him.<\/p>\n
On returning to Ash Court \u2013\u00a0our retirement complex \u2013 I soon learned from Thomas what the liquidation of Crispin\u2019s assets meant: Ash Court was part of Crispin\u2019s sprawling financial empire and it was up for sale.<\/p>\n
She spent most of the time wandering the passages of the residence\u00a0 chanting and smoking pot, leading to some visitors dubbing it \u201cHash Court\u201d. She had to go.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Moreover a number of our \u201cmore colourful residents\u201d had received notices of compulsory purchase \u2013 this possibility was in the very small print of the apartment leases \u2013 as the agent was not going to let them affect the sales price. These included Robena Fitzwell, our resident psychic who had not foreseen the sale.\u00a0 and was now well down the path to dementia. She spent most of the time wandering the passages of the residence chanting and smoking pot, leading to some visitors dubbing it \u201cHash Court\u201d. She had to go.<\/p>\n
I struggled to pour myself a whisky. Thomas though was back to his activist roots and already getting the residents together to buy out the freehold of the complex and take back control.<\/p>\n
As he launched into a declaration of his intent to take revenge against the capitalist system with the slogan \u201cno resident left behind\u201d and how Robena\u2019s nephew and local MP will be his his \u201cPatriot missile\u2026\u201d\u00a0 I grew exhausted. Two male egos to deal with in one day; time for another dram. Merry Christmas.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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