"Cunts," said Tom.
Ashley jumped in his seat, startled by Tom suddenly breaking the silence. "What's that, gaffer?"
Tom gestured to The Grosvenor House Hotel with his thin cigar. Vanilla scented, imported, pompous. One of the few extravagant things Tom allowed himself. That, and the Mercury Monterey they sat in.
Ashley looked at the hotel, back to Tom, the hotel, and Tom again. "What, them?"
Tom nodded slowly and suddenly changed to shake his head. He took a drag from the cigar and said, "Fuckin' Adlers, and the kykes, and the Lords and Barons, and the whole fuckin' lot of 'em."
Ashley shrugged his shoulders. He never had any personal prejudices against the Adlers - or any of the Hyde Park gang, really - and especially not the Jews, being that his father was a Jewish butcher in Bethnal Green. That said, Ashley never mixed with most of the people inside. The only reason he here was because he wanted to give his cousin "Pretty Boy" Troy Wilkinson a fine "welcome home" party. Fresh from prison after a bid for arson, not many people knew who Troy was, and even fewer expected much from him. That's where Tom came in. "Sure, Tom, but..." Ashley began to bargain, "the girls, yeah?"
"The birds, Ash?" Tom looked over at his chauffeur with a soft look of disgust. "You reckon that's what's brought me 'ere, 'eh?"
Ashley dolled out apology after apology hoping Tom wouldn't tell him to take him home.
"Relax," said Tom as he looked back over at the hotel. "I'll get you in, ya cunt."

[center][b]---[/b][/center]

A black man in a tuxedo opened the doors to the hotel as Ashley and Tom ascended the stairs. "Sirs," said the doorman. Tom nodded, but Ashley was knackered by his nerves, so he hardly even noticed him.

A curtain of cigarette smoke, barrage of loud music, and the unmistakable stench of turpentine greeted them before any other. [i]Turpentine, what the fuck for?[/i] thought Tom, but it soon occurred to him that, were it not for the overpowering smell, it very well could be an aroma of sweat, tobacco, and booze that was there at the door. [i]Better turpentine, then[/i], he thought.

"Tom!" shouted a familiar voice.
Oh, yeah. Blond hair parted to the right, thick, pursed lips, little button nose? "Diana Dors in the flesh. What brings you to the West End?" asked Tom.
"Oh, y'know," she started with a faux coy tone, "stuff!"
Tom nodded and turn to Ashley and said, "Get her a drink."
Ashley nodded and offered Diana his arm. She smiled at Tom as she wrapped her self around the chauffeur. "Bye, love!"
Tom winked at her and nodded.

[i]Fuckin' hell,[/i] he thought, [i]what a fuckin' shit show.[/i]