Page 38 of Crocodile Tears

“Tomorrow?”

“Never mind. Look, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Whatever.” Solange shrugged. Alex was impressed – most girls wouldn’t be so cool about seeing a prospective conquest on his knees, sucking off another guy.

“Tell me to fuck off,” Solange said, “but you’re a Lytton, so how come you don’t have the money to buy your own croc?”

“My father gives me an allowance every month and makes me account for every penny. And I mean literally every penny. I have to do accounts for him, provide receipts and shit. He says it’s good practice for managing a budget.”

“Sounds like a drag.”

“Yeah. I don’t mind doing the stupid accounts – it’s the fact he gives me so little dosh. He says I have to prove myself to earn more, but I’m not sure there’s anything I can do that’ll be enough, really.” He wasn’t sure why he was telling her all this when he hadn’t even told Bax, but there was something about her detached style that made him feel at ease.

“Is this because of the accident that killed your mum?” she asked.

He glanced at her sharply; most people pussyfooted around that subject, although everyone knew his story. She raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. He doesn’t want me taking croc, or drinking.”

“I suppose I can understand that, after what happened.”

“Yeah.”

“You could always get a job to make more money – you know, like ordinary people.” She gave a sly wink.

“Well, firstly – there are no jobs, and if there were, I shouldn’t take one away from someone who really needs it. But also, he won’t let me. He wants to control all my money to make sure I’m not using.”

“How would he find out?”

“He has a spy.” Alex flicked ash onto the ground. “He sent an IS with me to Oxford to report back on everything I do.”

“Wow, that’s all kinds of fucked up.” She leaned into him for warmth, and he handed her the cigarette again. “So, does this spy know you blow guys for croc – and how did you slip your leash this evening?”

Alex grinned. “I sleep with my spy to ensure his silence.”

She stared at him. “For real? You’re not bullshitting me?”

“For real.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow. Just… wow. You Lyttons are weird.”

Alex laughed. “Yeah.”

“Question is… why do you need the croc at all?” She sounded genuinely intrigued. “I mean, croc’s nice, but it’s not addictive like sable.”

“Nah. I could kick it without giving a shit,” he agreed.

“So, why go down on your knees to suck some bloke’s dick in a back alley behind a club in the freezing cold just to score some croc?”

“Because tomorrow I’m going home to spend Christmas with my unforgiving father, my paralysed big brother, and the ghost of my mother, and I want to be able to take the edge off when it gets too much, which it will,” he told her honestly.

She gazed at him for a long time and then nodded. “I can understand that. Is your father really unforgiving?”

“Yes. He can’t stand the sight of me.”

“He still blames you for the accident that killed your mum?”

“Yeah, but I get that. What I don’t get is the way the rest of the world joins in. They paint me black, so I suppose that’s what I must be.” He gave her a twisted grin. “Don’t want to let down my audience.”

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