#GenghizInLove: Episode 9

"Hullo?" Even when she was woken up in the early hours of the morning, Lulu managed to sound simultaneously fresh as a daisy and voluptuous as a torch singer. Sleepless and entangled in a murky web of international conspiracy and espionage, I still felt better just hearing the sound of Lulu's voice, a thousand miles away in distant Oxford, and yet so close.

"Lulu?" I gasped. "Are you alone?"

"Darling! Well, practically alone. This one's not snoring at any rate."

"This one? Which one is it? Is it that muscle-bound Austrian?"

"I never understood why you didn't like Arnold. He was a sweetie. And such big muscles!" Lulu giggled.

"His biggest muscle was in his head."

"You're wrong, darling. His biggest muscle was somewhere else altogether. No, I dumped him. The jealousy became just too tedious to bear. Jealousy is like salt. Too little and you have no flavour; too much and you lose the savour."

"Whatever. Lulu, how did Rasputin get my phone number? I got a call from Moscow and it frightened me."

"How awful!" Lulu exclaimed solicitously. "Were you scared, my poor baby?"

"Did you give Rasputin my phone number?"

"Do I detect a note of paranoia, angel face? Even I don't have your phone number. Where are you calling from?"

"Prague. I emailed you all about it from Maya's place the day before I left."

"Of course. The University of Truth and Justice. Do they have any jobs in philosophy, dearest?"

"Ask Terence. He's a big shot on the University's board."

"Ah, yes. Terry Killjoy-Yuck," Lulu said meditatively. "I wonder if SLUTS has any dirt on him."

"SLUTS?"

"Sexy Ladies United Through Sisterhood. A little secret society I happen to belong to. Actually, I was President last year."

"And what does SLUTS do?"

"Use your noodle, my little poodle. Hazard a wild guess. What do you think sluts do?"

"Sleep around?"

"Exactly. And then we tell each other all about it. It's my absolutely favourite secret society."

"How secret is it if you're telling me all about it?"

"Oh, it's an open secret," Lulu declared airily. "When you join you have to promise not to tell anyone about it. For at least twenty four hours."

"Guess I'm not going to tell you any secrets."

"But I wouldn't repeat anything you told me, cuddles. I promise! And would I break a promise?"

"Yes, and then you'd boast about it," I replied evenly. "I know my Lulu."

"You just think you do, sweetie-pie," Lulu murmured throatily.

"Lulu, I certainly know you a damn sight better than the men you play with. I probably know you better than you know yourself."

"Oh, who wants to know oneself?" Lulu said indifferently. She was the best philosopher of our generation and her monograph on Identity, Episteme, and Ego: Diacritical Perspectives on Plato, Nietzsche, Lacan was already an acknowledged classic and not just among feminists. "As for men, as you know perfectly well, lover, I only go for men who don't have the brains to understand me."

"Yes, Lulu, I do seem to remember that," I said bitterly. "I spent six months bawling like a baby after you dumped me."

"Oh, cherub, did I hurt you?" Lulu sounded concerned. It was a trick of hers which I always found particularly infuriating. "Poor cry-baby. But you know, honey, you were getting too close."

"I was in love with you, Lu. Isn't one supposed to get close to the person one loves?"

"Of course not, silly," Lulu explained patiently. "Love thrives on distance. On opposites. Trust me. I know."

"Yeah, yeah. You're the expert. I'll call you next time I'm unhappily in love. Which should probably happen in about a week or so, judging by previous experience. Have you let Rasputin sleep with you yet?"

"No, of course not!" Lulu snickered. "It's such fun to play with him. Sometimes I let him think he's on the verge of actually seducing me... And then I let him fall flat on his face. Splat!"

"Tease!" I couldn't help laughing at the thought of Rasputin's discomfiture.

"It's all your fault anyway," Lulu said. "You're the one who got him lusting after me in the first place."

"It's not my fault," I protested. "He was always drooling down your cleavage. Then he got furious with me for not imitating the noises you make in bed. But that's all ancient history. You just like keeping him jealous. And he can't stand the thought that any pretty woman might ever sleep with anyone else besides him. It hurts his little ego. By now he really probably just wants to be friends with you."

"Ah, but who wants to be friends with him?"

"Ouch. Evil woman, are you sleeping with God?"

"Why do you ask?" Lulu sounded coy. So she was.

"When did that start?'

"Oh, I don't know. It's been going on for a while. He just comes over sometimes and... when he visits God just stays."

"Is he still sleeping with Flossie as well?"

"Oh, stop it, angel! They're just friends who get drunk together and then pass out in the same bed sometimes."

"That's what he tells you," I replied cattily.

"Actually, no. That's what Floss tells me. Why this sudden curiosity about God's sex life anyway, honeybunch?"

"Oh, I was just talking to him earlier this evening and he mentioned something about pillow talk."

"Did I say something?"

I laughed at her alarm. "No, he said that he talks in his sleep. He wasn't sure if he had told you that he worked for the Secret Service."

"Of course he does," Lulu said indifferently. "Practically everyone I know works for some secret service or the other. It's so boring. I've got so it's the first question I ask someone when I meet them: `Excuse me, please, do you work for a secret service?' Rasputin does. Maya does. Flossie might. You do."

"How the hell do you know that?"

"Floss told me, babycakes. Are you drunk or something? You're not usually so stupid. I'm sorry, that was mean. There's something the matter with me. It's this stupid garter belt clip that's twisted itself right into my thigh, let me just straighten it out. Oh, yes, that's much better." Lulu sighed. "That's the problem with this one. He has a fetish about old-fashioned things like garter belts and corsets. He says nostalgia is coming back into fashion." Another languorous sigh. "You know, honey, sometimes I wonder if I didn't make a mistake in dumping you. You don't have any really annoying fetishes. You take showers occasionally. You will be rich enough some day. I really think I should have married you..."

"Lulu. Stop vamping me," I warned her sternly. "I'm in deep waters here. I have to concentrate."

"Ah, but sexual tension sharpens the mind, lambkins. And your mind certainly needs all the sharpening it can get."

"Stop with the sushi-slicing for now, okay? Put that razor-sharp intellect to good use for once. I really do need some help here."

"Is something bothering little baby's sleep then?"

"Yes. Lots of things." My voice faltering, I told Lulu about God's recent revelations regarding the University of Truth and Justice. Lulu listened in sympathetic silence for the most part, punctuated by an occasional encouraging giggle. "But the thing that bothers me most of all is: Who is X-O-X?"

"A billionaire, sweetheart."

"Thanks, Lulu," I replied nastily. "Even I can comprehend that basic fact."

"Can you, really? I wish I could." Lulu sounded wistful. "Call me a poor little philosopher wench, but I really can't comprehend what it means to be a billionaire."

"What do you mean, Lu?"

"What is a billionaire? What kind of ambition does it take to become one? What do you have to do to make that much money? How does it feel to be a billionaire? Does a billionaire have time for slow sex on a summer afternoon? Does he eat foie gras off solid gold plates? How many Learjets and ocean-going yachts does it take before a billionaire gets bored? What happens when a billionaire gets bored?" Lulu laughed. "Do you see where I'm going with this?"

I hesitated. "Dimly. Do you mean that X-O-X is doing all this because he's bored?"

"Not quite, dearest. But close enough for now. I don't know what X-O-X's motivations are. I don't know the man at all, in fact. All I know is that he and Terry Killjoy-Yuck are just like that... Oh, sorry, of course you can't see me. I had two fingers spread apart. Can you guess where?"

"Lulu! What is X-O-X up to? Why does Terence want me to gather dirt on X-O-X? Why does Rasputin want to talk to me urgently? What does God have to do with it? Why aren't you near me right this moment?"

"X-O-X is a megalomaniac," Lulu said concisely. "Otherwise he wouldn't be a billionaire or a philanthropist. I can't tell you his secret goal because I don't know him. Probably something to do with taking over the world. Terence has been a spook all his life. He's crooked as a corkscrew so you can't trust him beyond opening wine bottles. He probably wants to use you and then betray you. Rasputin wants to involve you in one of his nefarious operations. Probably as a disposable courier in some sordid smuggling scheme. Godfrey is too smart for his own good and he's awfully bored and so he can't resist playing silly games. But that's normal, isn't it?" She dropped her business-like manner and put on her very best seductive tone. I could practically hear her batting her eyelashes. "And I am going to be near you very soon, my darling," she crooned. I saw her lying in bed, her long blonde hair a white shadow in the dim streetlight that filtered through her bamboo shutters. The slick sound of silken stockings as she, oh so slowly, brought her soft white thighs together and parted them again...

"Lulu, this is not kind," I said plaintively. "You know I'm all alone here. Play fair! What do you mean, you're going to be near me soon?"

"Ah, but sweetheart, you don't really want me to be kind!" Lulu whispered huskily. "You like my little games. Don't you?"

I shrugged. Erotic conversation on the phone always bores me after a while. "How's your parrot?"

"Parakeet," Lulu corrected me. "He's fine. He makes the most wonderful raucous cries. I think he's getting jealous too of all the men. Maybe I can train him to do something to them."

"An attack parakeet?"

"That's what I'll do," Lulu said decisively. "He can stay at Bird Brain. Don't laugh! It really is the name of a sort of school where they train birds to sing and stuff like that. He'll stay there and learn how to defend me while I'm in Berlin. I'm going there the day after tomorrow. I need a change. Don't you think Berlin might be my kind of city? I've never been there. Will you visit me?"

"That's funny," I said slowly. "Someone else was asking me about Berlin the other day. Lucy. She works here. Looks like an angel..."

"I don't want to hear about it," Lulu said firmly. "Yet. Only after she breaks your heart. That was our agreement, remember?"

"I'm not sure Berlin is decadent enough to handle you, Lulu, darling. Thanks for the advice. You philosophers have the right kind of devious mind."

"Thanks, precious. How adorable of you to say that!" She sounded pleased. "I'll find out more about what all these evil men are planning to do to you, my sweet. And I'll tell you when you visit me in Berlin. Okay? Thanks for reminding me about the parakeet. It's the perfect solution. Two birds with one stone! Oops, I think he heard that! 'Bye!"

I stood there holding the receiver in my hand for a minute or so after she hung up. Sweet Lulu. A flood of memories drowned out my more immediate concerns about the bizarre institution in which I now seemed committed. Old memories pervaded with the sweetness of renewed friendship and the bitter residue of lost love, a thick coating around more intimate memories of the tender brutality of physical passion. Whenever I spoke to Lulu I felt as though I were biting into dark chocolate with liqueur filling. Any woman is, by definition, far smarter than any man and very intelligent women like Lulu therefore inspire me with awe and trepidation. I didn't trust Lulu an inch but I wondered what she would be able to tell me at our rendezvous in Berlin.