Dom Hemingway Page #4

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But he was a doctor in Senegal.

He also says you are

one ugly bastard.

Well, he's right there, ain't he?

Not sure what happened to

you, but it wasn't pretty.

Misfortune.

Misfortune befell me.

You need to rest now, Dom, OK?

Evelyn said that as soon as

you could pee on two legs,

you'd have to go.

By the look of you,

I'd say that's today.

- So she's not talking to me?

- She's at work.

She's just throwing me out,

judge, jury and executioner.

Just like that.

- She hates me.

- She's mad at you.

A lot of years of hurt. That

just doesn't go away like that.

If anyone has the right

to be mad at life, it's me.

I've had the shittiest luck in

the history of shitty luck.

Look at me.

I'm a mess.

Face like an abortion.

Broke as a teenager. Pissing

next to Afrika Bambaataa.

You going there, Dom?

Right. Sorry.

Is that my grandson?

I see your gene's a bit more

prominent, if you know what I mean.

His name's Jawara.

- You're kidding?

- It's Senegalese.

- Diddle me with a voodoo doll.

- It means 'peace-loving'.

I'm Dom. Dom's English for

'unlucky son of a b*tch'.

We're playing music tonight,

at Cargo. You know it?

I can't guarantee anything,

but Evelyn will be there.

- So maybe she'll talk with you then.

- You think?

I don't really. But

it's worth a try.

I'm scared.

I would be too.

She's a tough one.

I wish I was a fisherman,

tumbling on the seas

Far away from dry land

and its bitter memories

Casting out my sweet line

with abandonment and love

No ceiling bearing down on

me save the starry sky above

With light in my head

You in my arms

Ah-ha...

Bloody f***.

- You all right, Dom?

- F***ing table.

What's a f***ing table doing there?

Anyone can knock into it.

I'm gonna f***ing burn

that table, I swear it.

I take it, it didn't

go as planned tonight.

It was just peachy, just peachy.

Like one of them TV shows

where everyone's all huggy

and kissy in the end.

You didn't even say hello, then?

God, I'm a sh*t.

But you're her sh*t.

I called her boyfriend

Afrika Bambaataa.

That was smart.

She don't want me, Dickie.

Who can f***ing blame her?

Get near me, you're likely to die,

or at least lose all your money.

Oh, yeah, sorry.

This wasn't how it

was supposed to be.

I know.

What are you gonna do, then?

A man with no options suddenly

has all the options in the world.

- What the hell does that mean?

- Don't know.

Doomsday plan.

- I gotta see Lestor Junior.

- No.

Yeah.

- Bugger.

- F***er.

Sh*t, Dom. The son's

worse than the father.

Yeah. Sh*t, Dickie.

But Fontaine ain't

exactly hiring, is he?

All right, son?

Dom, Dom Hemingway.

I didn't think I'd recognise you...

Seeing as I was barely a

teenager and everything.

- That's right.

- But I did. I'm proud of myself.

F***ing hell.

Why did you kill my cat, Dom?

You're gonna bring that

up after all these years?

I am. What did that

cat ever do to you?

It was your father's cat, Les.

That was your father's cat.

He was competition.

No matter. I loved that cat.

That cat was my friend.

Sorry, OK? I'm sorry.

I bet you are.

But you disrespected my cat

and I can't forgive that.

I was just a little boy, you know.

Well, I'm ready to put

the past to rest, huh?

Let bygones be bygones.

Thought maybe we could do

some business together.

You're a killer of cats, Dom,

and I want nothing to do with you.

I said I was sorry.

I know you're sorry, but that

don't bring Bernard back to life.

See, that's what I'm talking about.

Who calls their cat Bernard?

'Course I killed your f***ing cat.

Come on.

Damn it. Come on!

You know I'm good at what I do.

Your father wanted

me to work for him.

But you never said yes, Dom.

You never said yes.

I worked for Mr Fontaine.

I couldn't say yes.

You could have, but you didn't.

- I didn't cos I couldn't.

- You couldn't cos you wouldn't.

I wouldn't cos I couldn't.

That's why I didn't.

F*** you! Couldn't,

wouldn't, shouldn't.

I got the magic fingers.

You know that, I always did.

You must remember that.

Magic fingers, Lestor.

You could use that. Your

business could use that.

I run clubs, Dom.

Bullshit, Lestor. You

know what you do.

It's no secret. It's

your family business.

See, there's a part of me

that wants to put you in the

trunk of my sister's Prius,

drive you up to Canvey Island and bury

you up to your thick f***ing neck,

cover your fat f***ing

face in hamburger patties

and let the creatures of the night

eat you to death while I watch.

That's what I want,

you eaten to death

bite by f***ing bite,

peck by f***ing peck

and fang by motherfucking fang.

See, I heard Belly retired and

his replacement's disappointing.

So you come to the son of the

man you was at war with?

He was competition.

You come to the little boy

whose p*ssy cat you murdered?

You need me, Lestor.

You're an old man, Dom.

You should retire, too.

I meant to.

Yeah, I bet you did.

It's not like the old days, Dom.

They've got electronics now.

A safe's a safe.

Until you can't open it.

Come by my club tonight at 11:00.

Sugarfix.

I have a new electronic safe there.

If you can open it in 10 minutes,

you can come and work for me,

bygones be bygones.

I'll have plenty of

solid business for you.

However, if you can't open it,

I'm gonna chop off your tiny

dick and use it as a doorjamb.

It's your call, Dom.

Show up or not.

Open the safe or not.

Piss standing up again or not.

Those are your options.

Those are your choices.

And that was for Bernard.

- I thought that's what the last

one was for. - Nah, nah, nah.

That was for my daddy.

This one is for Bernard.

He was a good f***ing cat

and didn't deserve your ugly face

to be the last thing he saw.

Thanks, Jeanie.

Are you sure you should be

drinking like this, Dom?

I'm good, Mum.

I'm serious.

You've got to open a safe later and

you haven't opened one in 12 years.

I'm steady as a trapeze

artist's c*nt.

- Let me see your hand.

- What?

Your hand. I want to see

if you're really steady.

Look at your own hand, Dickie,

if you haven't lost it again.

Seriously, put out your hand,

Dom. Let me see it.

F***er.

I could do surgery with this hand,

operate on your caper-sized brain,

finger a nun from five feet away.

That safe don't scare me.

Lestor McGreevy don't scare me.

Nothing scares me.

Well, you're scaring me,

that much is true.

I'm good.

You're penniless, homeless. You're

fast on your way to being pissed.

Your wank's on the line

and you haven't opened

a safe in 12 years,

and not an electronic

one, not ever.

Aren't you the Easter

Bunny, hopping around,

spreading good cheer

wherever you go?

I'm just stating what I'm stating.

- Stop stating what you're stating.

- I'm not gonna stop stating it.

I'll state what I want to state

in whatever state I want to.

State it again, I'll

knock your teeth out.

Knock my teeth out,

I'll cut your ear off.

Cut my ear off, I'll carve

your eye out with my big toe.

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