And now it's the podcast you've been waiting for, The Joe Rogan Show,
only kidding. It's me, Hello, how are you? I hope you're
well. We plunge straight in this week listeners, No chit chat, just
a quick refresher from me lifted from the original Patreon podcast of this episode,
and then away we go. So over to you, Mike. This episode
is set four nights earlier on from where we have been with the David and
Underwood, Daimo and Rose and so on storylines. We're back in Spain,
back in El Messina and taking up Lydia's story from where we left her in
episode fifteen of Underwood and Flinch Underground. Do you remember Lydia had survived the
nasty you know business on the rooftop at La Fantasia, you know, being
set on fire and everything, and it had managed to get back to her
villa in Malaga after sort of kidnapping a taxi driver and you know, doing
bad things to him. And then she phoned the Bensons and Cynthia told Lydia
that Miguel was in a hospital, and so Lydia went to the hospital and
turned him into a vampire to save him. Do you remember that? Well,
that's where we are going to continue from. Only we're not actually with
Lydia and Miguel. We're with her friends and ours, The Bensons as the
curtain rises on Underwood and Flinch Season five in Tanner Bress. Written and performed
for podcast by Mike Benner. This podcast is intended for an adult audience.
Listener discretion is advised. Episode three, four nights earlier. Gerald and Cynthia
Benson's house was located on the country road between the villages of al Messina and
Pruna Cassa. Benson, as they and Lydia called it, were set on
a three and a half acre site at the end of a long curving driveway,
a one story villa with mature olive and cypress trees to its front and
sides, and to the rear a magnificent view of the rolling olive studded hills,
to where Almsina castles dominated the horizon atop its high, rocky mount For
the Bensons, it had been love at first sight when they had sold up
in England and moved out to Spain. Lyddia had shown them a number of
properties, but as soon as they saw Cassa Benson, their minds were made
up, or rather Cynthia's was. Gerald had taken a fancy to a smaller
place in al Messina, within easy walking distance of Loraina de Corrizones, but
Cynthia's conviction, plus the fact that Cassa Benson had a swimming pool and no
neighbors for miles around, had won the day. Yet, in the pre
dawn hours of a late April morning, not even a year later, the
Bensons were lying in bed discussing whether or not to sell their home, let
it out, or just leave it vacant while they were away, because they
were bound to be away since they were soon to be transformed into vampires.
After Lydia had phoned them earlier that night with the news of her own transformation,
sleep had been impossible. They'd lain awake for hours, talking over all
the things they'd have to do, things they hadn't planned on doing for a
lot longer. If ever, for as wonderful as Lydia's dream of their all
becoming vampires had been, it had always hinged on a number of conditional clauses.
If she became Underwood's guardian, if she could seduce him into giving her
the dark gift, and most recently, and by far the least likely,
if she could lure Underward into a death trap she'd cooked up with some Russian
mafia figure called Sergey, who, to the Bensons, sounded about as likely
to give her what she wanted as Underwood did. And yet against all odds,
Lydia had triumphed. And now through the open window came the distant hum
of an approaching car. Sh said Cynthia, putting her fingers to Gerald's lips
and stopping him mid sentence. Listen, it's a car, said Gerald,
statingly obvious. I know it's a bloody car. My god, the here
already. Liddy had phoned them what seemed like fifteen minutes ago to say she
had rescued Miguel and that they were on their way. Yet a glance at
the clock told Cynthia that had been over an hour ago. She threw back
the douvet and leapt from the bed, pulling her nighty off and throwing it
behind her, where it landed on Gerald's head. Quick, quick, calm
down, dear, said Gerald. It's only Lydia and Miguel, not the
town mayor. They've seen us wearing a lot less than our jim jams.
That's not the point, Gerald said Cynthia, now frantically shoving hanged garments left
and right in her wardrobe. For God's sake, why don't I have anything
to wear? Gerald put on his slippers and wandered over to wear his dressing
gown hung on the back of the bedroom door. He put it on and
pushed his fingers through his hair. The doorbell rang, Ah, whatever you
choose will be marvelous. Dear, don't worry, I'll go. Cynthia,
realizing her sartorial defeat, pulled out the comfy pink tree she liked to pad
her round the house in on Sunday mornings, and matching fluffy slippers. She
dressed hastily and with only the briefest assessment of herself in the mirror, mostly
because she looked any longer she would never have left the room. She went
to join Gerald and her guests. God, what a night, said Lydia,
throwing herself down onto the sofa. She was followed into the living room
by Miguel, supporting a barely conscious young woman who might have mistakenly been considered
drunk were it not for the tell tale bloodstain that blotted her T shirt from
the neck down. Yes, I can imagine, said Cynthia. Joining them,
Gerald stood by the wood burning stove at the fireplace. He was hovering,
unsure what to do with himself. He couldn't take his eyes off Miguel,
whose chin and cheeks were dark with blood. It was smeared like.
He tried to wipe it away with the back of his hand, but had
only succeeded in spreading it over a wider area. You two, asked Joe.
Okay, said Miguel, you're a vampire. Miguel laughed, ha ha
ha. See me and Miago say vampiro. There was a mad energy in
his eyes that neither Gerald nor Cynthia had ever seen before. He sat down
in the center of the sofa next to Lydia and pulled the woman he'd been
helping down to sit on his other side. And this is Monica, my
new girlfriend. Monica, he said to the woman, Say hola to my
friends. Monica turned to the Bensons and in a listless voice, said hola.
From her clothing, Gerald assumed she was a prostitute. In addition to
the bloodstained T shirt, She wore a black leather jacket and miniskirt with fishnet
stockings and high heels. Easy pray, he thought. Hola Monica, he
said, with a nervous smile. Soy Haraldo, and this is my wife.
No so much. No. Flustered by his inability to conjure the correct
Spanish, he simply pointed to Cynthia and said, Cynthia. Miguel laughed,
hello, bravo, Gerald, But Monica is Ukrainian. Spanish is as bad
as yours. I think she knows as much English as Spanish. No.
He directed this last comment to Monica. Dah speak English, said Monica,
very nice blow job. Miguel grinned, you see she is fluent. Give
me blow job, Monica. He spread his thighs and Monica's hands went to
his lap. She was getting to grips with his fly when Lydia intervened.
Monica stop. Monica stopped sleep. Monica sat back in her seat and closed
her eyes. Miguel laughed, I'm Lyddy, I'm sorry, Please forgive me.
I only wanted to show my friends how absolutely we control her. To
the Bensons, he said, isn't it amazing? I tell her what to
do, and she does it, no arguments, no fighting, and best
of all, no fee. If I wasn't going to kill her tomorrow,
I'd marry her. I assume she's fascinated and not just laboring under a misunderstanding
about money, said Cynthia, sitting down on one of the armchairs that flanked
the fireplace. Yes, said Lydia. She's Miguel's first fascination, and as
you can see, he's thrilled with himself. Don't marry Miguel. There'll be
plenty more fish in the sea when Monica's gone, and all of them just
as compliant. Did you do this? Looking at Lydia, Cynthia nodded to
Miguel. Or was it Underwood make him a vampire? I mean, Lydia
smiled. I did. After I spoke to you. I found the hospital
he'd been taken to and went to get him, and not a moment too
soon either. He was on the brink of death, won't you Miguel,
see, said Miguel, he licked blood from his fingers. That bastardunder would
almost killed me. Cynthia tried to suppress a grimace as he continued to tongue
himself I say, Miguel, darling, would you mind terribly just popping along
to the bathroom and having a wash? What said Miguel, wash? He
laughed, ha ha ha, but that is to wasted, Cynthia. I
prefer to clean myself like the cat and grassiers. Yes, but you're not
doing a very good job of it, dear, you're getting blood on my
cushions. Miguel turned to Lydia, his face incredulous. This is crazy.
We are vampires and she is worried about blood of the cushions. Do Cynthia,
says? Miguel, said, Lydia checking her own hands for blood.
We're guests first, vampires. Second. Annoyed, but ever obedient to Lydia,
Miguel houghed and got up. Okay, I am going, but all
like guys, I need a toilet. I have a blooder full of monaker,
And with a parting suck of his thumb, he walked from the room.
What about me? Lydia held her hands up for Cynthia's inspection. Will
I do? Cynthia smiled, relieved to see that whatever other changes Lydia had
undergone, her manners were unaffected. Oh, you'll do just fine. Darling,
and may I say you look radiant. Death clearly agrees with you.
Gerald, still hovering at the fireplace, remembered his manners. Sorry, lady,
can I get you anything to drink? That is, assuming you still
do drink? And no change is there? I hope none whatsoever? Thank
God, thank you Gerald. I'll have a g and tea. I could
do with something to help me unwind after the night I've had. Once Gerald
had made drinks for everyone and Miguel was back from the bathroom, Cynthia raised
her glass. Well, cheers everyone, and here's to Lydia, as she
wills so motored be. Everyone raised their glasses and chorused to Lydia. Oh
it was nothing, really, said Lydia. Anyone could have done it.
Then she smiled at their bemused faces and added, oh no, who am
I kidding? I was fucking amazing. Cheers, here's to me. They
drank. Then Cynthia said, so tell us everything, and so Lydia did,
with Miguel adding a somewhat embellished account of his adventure with David and Damo
to complete the story. When they were finished, the first light of the
coming day was starting to glow around the edges of the curtains. Lydia finished
a last of her second g and tea and rubbed her neck, soothing the
tingle she was feeling with increasing intensity as the sun rose outside. Damn,
time's got away from us. Miguel and I need to get into a dark
place. Do you have rooms ready for us? Yes, of course,
though nothing for Cynthia looked at Monica, your friend here, Oh, don't
worry about her, she can just sleep where she is, but saying that
tomorrow it's going to be important that she obeys you too. Miguel, Wake
her up, would you. Miguel shook Monica by the shoulder. Monica,
wake up. Monica's eyes opened and she sat up, looking blearily to Miguel
for further instruction. Lydia snapped her fingers to call her attention. Monica,
Obey, Cynthia and Gerald. She pointed to the bensons. Obey, understand,
obey. Monica nodded obey, Yes, obey, Cynthia and Gerald.
You're sure she knows what obey means, Darling, said Cynthia. Of course
she does. She's a whore. I imagine Obey is right up there with
blowjob testa if you like. Cynthia cleared her throat and said, Monica,
stand up. Monica stood up. Cynthia smiled, Oh, how exciting,
Monica said, Gerald. Sit down. Monica sat down. I say you
see, said Lydia. Your wish is her command. Just keep your language
simple and she'll do anything you want. With a grin, she added,
anything at all. Cynthia forced a smile. I hardly think so, dear.
I'd say the poor girls had quite enough for one night. She put
her hand to her mouth to cover a yawn. I know I have.
Gerald yawned in sympathy and added, yes, it certainly has been quite a
knight. But tell me, Miguel said he was going to He coughed the
word gil and nodded to Monica tomorrow. Are you you sure that's wise?
Wouldn't it be better to simply make her forget everything? Lydia gave a dismissive
wave. Oh, mcgal was just being flippant. Of course, you're right,
Gerald. The fewer bodies we leave in our wake on the way to
London, the better London, said Cynthia. You're going to London when a
sap darling. I have a friend there that I believe can help me.
She sought for the right words. How shall I say? Get ahead?
I I don't understand, said Cynthia. What do you mean get ahead?
Surely you're the most ahead you've ever been in your life. Well, yes,
and no, darling. Look, I'd hoped i'd have time to talk
you through my plans. But my skin furls like I've got ants crawling all
over me. It's the sun rising, you see. I'm afraid. I
simply must get to a dark place and turn in for the day. Then
tomorrow night I'll explain everything. So our bedroom windows they have Percianas, don't
they. Cynthia nodded. Yes. The Bensons had had Perciana's, rolled down
plastic shutters that completely covered the windows fitted when they moved in. They were
a commonplace addition to many, and Lucy and Holmes an extra line of defense
against the sun's light and heat in the middle of the day when any sensible
resident was trying to take a si esther. We also have curtains. But
will it be enough? Oh yes, I'm sure it'll be fine, said
Lydia. If not, we can always sleep under the beds. Not ideal,
but if I can sleep in a sewer, I can sleep anywhere,
she chuckled. But listen, before we turn in, there are a couple
of favors I have to ask of you. Things I need done asap,
so ideally tomorrow, of course, said Gerald. Then casually he added,
I uh, I don't suppose this is with regards to your making us into
vampire's. Is it our right of passage so to speak? Oh, said
Lydia, slightly taken aback. Uh No, I'm afraid I can't do that
yet, Gerald, As I said, there are things that really do need
to get done tomorrow, by which I mean daytime if we're going to be
all set for tomorrow night. I mean, I'd love to do these things
myself, but I think we can all agree that my going out in the
daytime wouldn't be the best idea, things being what they are. Oh no,
of course not, said Gerald. We certainly don't want you going out
and getting another scorching ha ha. No, don't you worry, Lydia.
You leave it all to us. So what is it you need us to
do? Thank you? Okay, Well, the first thing I need you
to do is to check online for flights to land and tomorrow night. Don't
book anything yet, just check the availability and who's offering the best deals for
tickets one way, that is, assuming that you'd like to come. She
looked from one to the other of the Bensons, who exchanged a look of
uncertainty. Gerald said, Oh, I don't know sin one way, said
Cynthia. You mean you don't play on coming back. Well, I don't
even know for sure if I'm going at all yet. It all depends on
my friend in London. I haven't a chance to get in touch with him
yet. There's not much point in calling him in the middle of the night.
She grinned. I don't think his wife would approve. Who is he
this friend? Asked Gerald. I mean if you don't mind saying Lydia restrained
the sigh. She was exhausted and getting increasingly irritable as the sun crept over
higher. Let's just say he has connections, all right. He's a Satanist,
and well, I have a sneaking suspicion that he may know of another
vampire, a master good God, said Gerald. Another vampire, said Cynthia.
But I thought they'd all been destroyed, that Underwood was the last of
them. Well, he was, as far as we were concerned, said
Lydia. But he made other vampires in his lifetime, some of them could
still be alive them or their progeny. And so you'll think this friend of
yours may know one of them, said Gerald. I don't know. All
I know for sure is that when I tried to recruit him for the sect,
he seemed completely unimpressed that I was recruiting for a vampire cult. And
when I pushed him on it, all he'd say was is that he knelt
before another another, said Cynthia. And you think this could be another vampire?
I don't know, Darling. Maybe maybe he no Satan himself, which
would certainly be a result. But this is what I've got to find out,
and to do that, I have to go to London. So would
you like to come along? If nothing else, it'd be nice to see
the old country again, wouldn't it, well, Cynthia amused her eye on
Gerald. I suppose. So, I mean, it's not like we had
anything else planned, is it. And we wouldn't want Lydia and Miguel going
away without us, would we? Gerald? No, said Gerald, picking
up Cynthia's subtle inference that if Lydia and Miguel went away on a one way
trip to London without them, what guarantee would they have of ever seeing them
again? No, of course not, he turned to Lydia the smile.
We'd be delighted to come. Who wouldn't miss it for the world back in
good old Blighty. Eh, maybe drop into the club, drinks with the
chaps and that sort of thing. Excellent, said Lydia. So the other
thing I need you to do is to go to my flat here in al
Messina and pick me out some nice outfits for London. Also get my laptop
and passport, which is in my bedside table. I have a couple of
suitcases in my flat, so just use those. Then go out to Casa
Underwood and up to my room there and empty out the wardrobe completely. Don't
worry, there isn't much, but there are a couple of really nice outfits
I took out there ahead of Underwood's resurrection that I want back here. She
fished in her pocket, took out a bunch of keys and put them on
the coffee table. Keys for both places. Sorry, there are quite a
few on the ring, but you'll figure out which one's a which Cynthia looked
uncomfortable. Wouldn't it be better if you did this personally, I'd hate to
get the wrong things. Well, yes, of course it would, darling.
But time is luxury we can't afford, and not just because I want
to get over to London, but there's also a chance that the police could
come sniffing around my homes here and in Malaga in the next few days.
It all depends, of course, on what David and the Mullins women have
been telling them. Well, we know that David's under arrest, said Gerald,
So anything Michelle and Melanie may have said can't have cleared him. He
must still be the prime suspect, yes, said Lydia. For now anyway,
So you see, time is of the essence. Do you think they'll
go out to Cassa Underwood, asks Gerald. Lydia shrugged. Quite possibly,
yes, though Hernandez, our lawyer, will do everything in his power to
prevent that. The last thing he wants is the cops poking around out there.
Can you imagine them finding that coffin at the cellar? Oh Jesus no.
But I still want my things out of there because for me, the
worst case scenario is David being released. In that event, the first thing
my dear little brother is likely to do is take everything of mine from the
house, douse it in pedrol, and toss a match to it. But
surely David isn't likely to get out of this scot free, said Cynthia.
I mean, if they release him, who are they going to charge?
Well, they don't have to charge anyone, do they. If it goes
to court, Hernandez could argue that it was just Sergey's mob against the Serbians,
and all the guilty parties are dead, and David was only there at
all because he was trying to rescue his sister and the Mullinses so he could
come out of this a hero, said Gerald. Lydia grimaced ugh, I
no, sickening, isn't it. Well he did try to save you,
dear, said Cynthia. Yes, but only because he thought I was in
danger. When he found out I was behind the whole thing, he changed
his tune completely. Well understandable, said Gerald, Then, on seeing Lydia's
eyes darken on him, added, I mean that the court could be convinced
of his innocence. Well, anyway, said Cynthia. Have no fear for
your clothes at least, Darling. We'll get them all out first thing,
don't you worry? And is that it? Or was there anything else you
wanted us to do? Well, there is one more thing, said Lydia.
I'm afraid I'm going to need you to dispose of the car I used
to get here. She took the car keys from her pocket and added them
to the house keys on the coffee table. I stole it. The driver's
bodies in the boot. Gerald sat up in alarm. What you mean he's
dead? There's a murdered man parked outside in the boot, Darling, not
behind the steering wheel, though, saying that he's just as likely to start
drawing the flies there as anywhere else, which is kind of the urgency.
So you want us to get rid of him as well, said Gerald,
unable to conceal his indignation. If you wouldn't mind, yes, well,
don't worry. He's safely ducked away, no arms hanging out the back or
anything. Just drive the car out in el campo, somewhere remote and abandon
it. I was thinking you could push it into an arroyo or something like
that. There's quite a few of them on the road to Seville. They're
like river canyons, only small, and there's no rivers in them most of
the time. Anyway, Just dump it in one of those and I doubt
anyone will find it for ages, if ever right, Gerald got up,
His face flushed a ruddy pink. Well, if that's such a handy solution,
then why didn't you do it on your way here instead of leaving it
for us? Because there are no arroyos on the route I took. I
came up via the mountain road. Well, that was an even better opportunity.
You could have shoved it into the ravine and walked to the remaining forty
or fifty kilometers. Well, no, I mean the body. You could
have at least off laded the body into the ravine, Gerald, We were
racing against the sun. Corpse disposal was the last thing on my mind.
And talking of the sun, she turned around to see daylight growing brighter around
the edges of the curtain. Shit, that's it, we have to get
to bed. Look, if you don't want to deal with the car and
the corpse, fine, we'll do it tomorrow night. She got up.
Come on, Miguel, Gerald saw she was averting her eyes from him.
She was annoyed, and perhaps rightly so. Was it really so much to
ask? Yes, said a voice in his mind. No, he said
aloud. I didn't mean that we wouldn't do it, Lydia. I.
I, well, it's all just a bit of a shock, that's all.
Lydia stopped in the doorway and looked back. So will you do it
or Notart? You need to wash it and clean the interior for prince in
DNA, Gerald hesitated. He turned to Cynthia ah Er at Lydia's side.
Miguel lay a hand on her shoulder. Don't worry, Lydia. I will
do this. You didn't have to come for me. You could have left
me to die and then had plenty of time to dun the body, but
you did not. You saved me, and I will never forget this.
Gerald harrumped. Huh no, never being literally the case for you now,
isn't it, Miguel? All right? For some well, said Miguel,
frowning. What do you mean by this? I mean you're a vampire,
aren't you? For you never and forever? No, I mean literally that,
not like the rest of us mere models. Gerald, please said Cynthia,
you're tired. We all are. We should all just go to bed
and get some rest. Wait a minute, said Lydia. What are you
suggesting? Gerald? What? Said Gerald, suddenly sheepish. He didn't like
the look in Lydia's eyes. I'm not suggesting anything, Ah, I'm simply
saying that you and Miguel you have forever, and we sin and I we
don't. That's all. So what you don't think I'm going to pass this
on to you, this dark gift? Is that what you're saying? Of
course he isn't, Lydia said Cynthia. He's just tired. It's been a
long night. I'm asking Gerald, Cynthia. I'm sure he can speak for
himself. Lydia moved slowly across the room towards Gerald. Is that what you
think, Gerald, that I would deny you and Cynthia, that which I
have promised you, my black circle, my chosen ones. Gerald took a
few steps back and fell into his armchair. Oh no, of course I
don't. But I mean we sin and I. We were just talking earlier
about how you said that the sect wouldn't be on our side anymore if they
knew that you were alive, how you'd be their enemy for trying to kill
Underwood? And I was thinking, well, where does that leave her?
Leave us for guardians? I mean, who's going to watch over us when
we sleep? Who's going to do things for us in the day to clear
up our mess Lydia stopped in front of Gerald's chair and looked down at him,
like the car outside for example. Yes, I mean you can see
what I'm saying, can't you? You we we're going to need a guardian
or guardians, aren't we our own flinches so to speak? Oh? I
see, and so you're worried that that's what you're going to become to me,
Gerald tried to laugh, like the very idea was ridiculous. Oh of
course not, but now you mention it. I would sort of like to
know when you'll be making us like you. I don't doubt for a moment
that you will pass on the dark gift. But well, obviously there's this
current situation and then we have this trip to London. I mean, you're
going to need someone to look after you there, right, both of you
will. So who is that going to be? If you make Sin and
I vampires, who's going to guard us all Lydia stepped astride his legs and
sat down on his lap. Oh, Gerald, she said, laying her
hands on his shoulders. Imagination never was your forte was it? Is?
It so hard to conceive that we could simply manage by ourselves. Once upon
a time, of course, guardians were necessary. But now this is the
twenty first century, a twenty four hour society. We have computers, smartphones,
the internet. We don't need guardians. And if we absolutely must have
someone to watch over us, we can always hire security guards. Their job
isn't to know what we're doing behind closed doors. It's simply to guard those
doors. She put a hand on his head and stroked his thinning hair.
You silly man, oh oh i uh, Gerald stammered. I didn't think
of that, I was. I don't know. You doubted me, didn't
you? Hmm? She spoke in a soothing yet patronizing tone, like a
mother to a child in disgrace. It's okay, I understand. I come
round here with a corpse in a stolen car. I ask you to take
care of it. I don't even make you vampires immediately, as you might
like. And you think, therefore that I must want you to be my
servants. She pinched his cheek and shook it playfully. Yes, milady,
No, milady, three bags full of milady. Hmmm, that's it,
isn't it? No? No, really, oh I think it is.
Lydia's hand closed to a fist on Gerald's hair as she pulled his head back
against the cushion. That's exactly what you sought. And you know what,
maybe you have a point. Maybe I should make you a vampire right now.
No. Gerald put up his hands to resist, but she caught him
by the wrists and forced them down to his side. I'm sorry, Lydia,
honestly, I didn't mean it like that. Oh, yes you did.
Cynthia went to Lydia and put her hands on her shoulders. Lydia,
please, he's just overtired. He gets this way. When Lydia turned on
her, bearing her now long sharp k nineteenth, get back, Cynthia.
You'll have your turn in a moment. Or maybe I could have Miguel,
do you now? While I'm attending to Gerald, Cynthia felt Miguel's arm close
around her shoulder. I would be honored, he purred in her ear.
No, she cried, Lydia, please, not like this, not in
anger. We're your friends. We love you, both of you. You
know that. She extricated herself from Miguel's embrace and dropped to her knee beside
Gerald's chair, so she was facing Lydia. Please, darling, it's just
Gerald. He's not thinking straight. He's been up all night, and the
gin probably hasn't helped either. Oh I'm not so sure, Cynthia. I
can feel something pressing against my bum in Gerald's lap. That feels very much
like consent. No, blurted Gerald, I I can't help that. It.
I mean, he it who doesn't speak for me? A damn thing
has a mind of its own. Please, Lyddya, it's like Sin said,
I'm tired, tired and stupid and a bit pissed. Yes, at
the gin, and on our empty stomach too. Lydia looked into his bulging,
frightened eyes, giving him a few moments to sweat before she smiled.
I see. She released his hands and straightened the disarrayed lapels of his dressing
gown. So you don't want me to do you now? No, not
now, said Gerald. We have things that we have to do for you
tomorrow the car, your clothes and all that have to be human to do
those in the daylight, and then we can all be ready for the off
tomorrow night. Good of course, that is assuming we're going to London at
all. It all depends on whether James wants to see me or not.
It's been a long time. James, is your friend in London, asked
Cynthia. Yes, oh, he's bound to want to speak to you.
Cynthia put a reassuring hand on Lydia's thigh. I mean whatever, with his
marriage, you're a vampire. Of course he's going to want to speak to
you. Well, yes, that's what I'm hoping, pive of my being
a vampire, and I'm reasonably confident that he will. After all, he
is a man, and we all know how men are. Lydia bounced her
bottom against the stiffness in Gerald's lap. Eh, Gerald, hah. The
pitch of Gerald's laugh sounded almost like a cry of pain. Yes, oh,
we're all the same, all right. Then Lydia leaned forward and kissed
Gerald lightly on the forehead. I forgive you. She took Cynthia's hand.
Both of you now, let's hear no more about me withholding anything from you,
especially the dark gift. When the time is right, we'll do it
properly, make an evening of it, with wine and candles and music and
things. Cynthia gave her hand a squeeze. Thank you, darling. A
time and a place, eh, absolutely, Lydia got up. Gerald grabbed
a cushion and set it on his lap, crossing his hand and trying to
look as dignified as he could, which was not at all. Come on,
Miguel said, Lydia, we have to get to bed. Miguel went
out into the hallway ahead of her, and Lydia stopped in the doorway and
turned back to the Bensons. Now you're sure you're okay to do those things
for me? Adam on you thinking I'm treating you like a flinch. Of
course, we're sure, darling, said Cynthia. It's a privilege, isn't
it. Gerald? Oh? Yes, absolutely, said Gerald. Can't wait.
Lydia smiled thanks. Oh, and uh, don't forget to feed Monica.
We'll need her good and strong for breakfast. All eyes went to the
woman on the sofa, who had been watching the back and forth of their
exchange like a stoned fan. At a tennis match. Oh don't worry,
said Cynthia, We'll take good care of her. Thanks darlings. Lydia blew
the Bensons a kiss, love you both good night. When she was gone,
Cynthia and Gerald waited, listening to the sound of footsteps receding down the
hall and of doors closing. Then Cynthia turned to Gerald and said, in
a harsh whisper, you stupid ass. What were you thinking talking to her
like that? You're lucky she didn't rip your bloody neck open. I'm sorry,
all right, Gerald whispered, I was annoyed. I mean, bloody
hell, is there anything else she'd like us to do? Made you pop
out and kidnap a few young boys to string upside down from the ceiling from
breakfast. Cynthia ignored his sarcasm and jabbed a finger into his face. Don't
you ever talk to her like that again? Do you understand, at least
not the side of our immortality? Gerald took her breath and nodded, all
right, yes, and I'm sorry, really I am. She looked at
the cushion on his lap, and the less said about that, the better.
Gerald put both hands on the cushion. I'm sorry about that too,
but you know how he is. Yes, don't I just? Oh,
well, come on, we may as well put the cattle on. Hey,
aren't we going back to bed? No, the sooner we get that
car away from here, the better. If we start now, we can
have it cleaned up and in one of those arroyo things before anyone else is
up and on the road. Gerald sighed resignedly. Then he noticed Monica looking
at him here, Sin, do you think we could get Monica to help
us? Cynthia considered Monica for a moment. Wow, we shouldn't. Really,
she's supposed to be resting, and she looks knackerd while she could rest.
Later, Gargie, an extra pair of hands will get the work done
a lot faster. Tell you what, make us some tea and toast?
That should burg her up? Monica? You hungry? Cynthia made eating gestures
with her hands. Yes, hungry and thirsty, of course you are,
dear. Cynthia patted Gerald on the head. All right, herald her,
she's hired. Get the tea and toast on. I'm going to get dressed,
and so listeners, are those cracks I see beginning to show in the
once so solid black circle, or is it just a case of being overtired
and slightly the worse for Gin? Join me and the Bensons, Lydia and
Miguel next time when the Underwood and Flinch saga continues. But why wait when
you could just head over to my Patreon page and continue listening today and you
can almost certainly use the app you're using now, Spotify, Apple Podcasts,
whatever it may be. At Patreon, just sign up in the category Underwood
and Flinch Listener, which at the time of recording this is still a mere
three dollars a month or the equivalent in your local currency. And then once
you're set up, you can scroll through the feed of my Patreon podcasts till
you reach Underwood and Flinch Underground episode thirty four and continue from there. And
that's it. I hope to see you there soon. The music you're listening
to is Ahmad Ahma by Farid Fajad from the album and Rusa Volume four,
courtesy of Taranay Records and our good friend Fawaz al Malud. You can stream
the track from Spotify, YouTube Music, Google Music, and all the other
music streamers out there.