08 February 2013


Interesting evening. I kept my trap shut but I needn't have. 

Mortuary Maul ~ There is, apparently, a highly-tuned efficient network of immediate turning up at a grande maison on the owner's death - with a flat-bed truck - and removing and good stuff while the beneficiaries are crazed with grief at the funeral or, more usually, booking a ticket over.

Nothing obvious, just the good stuff. And San Luca had been on the vultures' pecking list.

All very gentlemanly and discreet, and reserved for foreigners: turn up while the corpse is still warm at the undertakers, snaffle the moveables, and say no more nudge wink know what I mean? High echelon stuff. 1st XI filchery, between and from friends, RIP.

I'd dined an 'embedded' pal and neither felt up for it in the other sense of embedding so went went for coffee and dessert chez mutual pals who had amusing guests whose gin palace of which my companion craved and tour.

The VSOP went round and cigars perfumed the air and suddenly the chat turned to how much more difficult it was to plunder and how fewer were the choice hits.

That's when San Luca came up - maman's 40-year collection of decent chinoiserie blah blah. 

The last decent haul had actually been just round the corner - in and out - but that had been empty with only the retainers possibly in situ and they were Grik  and nae problème, whereas  Sans Lucre had been occupied (by moi) and erratically occupied. 

Which explained the drifters hovering around the gates and at which Sam barked on cue. I have just awarded him double rations, albeit 13 months late.

The amusing thing is that mum and me at the time enjoyed the full story of the pillaging and kicked ourselves at not having been Levantine enough to have thought of it ourselves.

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