He has been kidnapped; his captors are demanding a ransom. Due to certain lifestyle choices he has made over the last few years, people are not falling over themselves to come up with the money. It’s as simple as that. Failures in the policing of his gated community, failures of Apparently he has no money at all, just living on credit, the way these people do, debts and paper assets, unrealisable.
—They have sent his ear, as proof.
—They have cut off a finger.
She says, firstly: —How medieval.
And secondly: —The longer it goes, the more certain it gets.
—I sometimes think: there is no death.
She offers to buy him a tie to make up for it.
—But if there were no death, we would be insufferable.
—Everybody. We all would have lost our biggest secret-search.
—Then we would find out whether it were true or not.
But he doesn’t, so she lets him continue as if masculinely in charge of the situation.
—Dumped on the side of the road, shot through the back of the head, that’s usually the way.
—You remember, we used to speak about it a lot at the beginning,
—We did, yes, but time and our existences have passed,
—One becomes inured to hyperbole,
—Not helped by…. every time one of them goes, they are always ‘the last of’,
—And MH was the biggest rock star ever to die — which he patently was not.
Greatest, she holds back from.
—But you know how it is, they always go overboard on these things,
—And ruin it for us. I just can’t recover that species of feeling, not now. Unrealisable.