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He went underground as a tourist moving from place to place with his camera and pretended boozing blending in without suspicion from any direction.His move back into London was brilliant because it meant he was right back in the midst of the very people who were searching for him at the far corners of the world. He worked diligently on perfecting his London accent to fill his role as a disabled construction worker with no ties to Ireland at all. He drank the local beer which he found to be far too weak for his liking but definitely better than the American piss that seemed to be so popular these days.Just to fit in better, he groomed a shy girl of plain looks to be his constant companion. Her name was Laura and she was a bit of a romantic but one of those aimless young people that hadn't discovered who she really was as yet. Their coupling was a bit stilted because she was in truth a bit of a cold fish but he did his best to please her because she was giving him a valuable service in. "Oh Nim, I was so pleased when you called us for dinner," she gushes at him.Nimrod just stands and takes it in with an indulgent grin on his face. "Diva, I would have had you over first thing but, I figured you two needed some time to yourselves." And you Nosis," she swoops down and kiss my cheek before I can stop her. "Oh bless you Nosis."I hadn't expected this. It was like looking at Maggie in 20 years. Nimrod must have noticed my shell shocked expression, he comes over right away and pries Godiva off of me. He gives her a pat that seems to calm her down."Oh I am sorry," she starts to get weepy. "It is just so good be home."Now I feel like a big meanie for giving her the cold shoulder."Nonsense, there is nothing to forgive," Nimrod waves away her upset. "We are all happy that you are back with the Kin."I say nothing, knowing that if I did I would just put my foot in my mouth. I just give her a big grin and nod right along with Nimrod."Food," he claps his hands together, seeing we.
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Tamango was tall, dark, and though he claimed to be Rastafarian, I had never seen him wearing dreadlocks, just long braids. He wore a much more conventional tuxedo though his shirt was a very shiny, silky material with a frilly weave pattern. Both were well acquainted with Tiffany and I, but I had always had an apprehensive feeling about them. Both of them were always too flirtatious with Tiffany and annoyed me by touching her arms and back when speaking to her. Furthermore, I had heard many rumors about their bawdy sexual activities with countless numbers of gorgeous women. “Tiffany! Derek!” exclaimed Leone in a friendly voice as he squeezed between two patrons and walked up to us. “Hello!” squealed Tiffany as Leone offered her a quick peck on the cheek and slight hug, immediately followed by Tamango doing the same. They both then shook hands and acknowledged me standing next to Tiffany. “How are you guys?” she asked. “Extremely well,” offered Tamango in his Jamaican accent. “Where.

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