'You did what with him?' says Matthieu to Jeremi, glaring at Sydney now, 'You said you would keep an eye on him, dammit. And now this? How could you do this?'
Matthieu is furious and pacing. 'How?' he repeats.
Jeremi produces a thick was of Euros.
Sydney counts it.
'There's nearly two thousand euros here.'
'What did you do with him?' demands Matthieu.
'Do you really want to know? Do you care? He didn't force me to do anything, I just wanted his money, and if all it takes is me doin' some acting for his fat pasty greasy corpse of a body, so be it. He said to meet up with him this afternoon and he's gonna give me more, not just for, you know, but to help him find someone tonight.'
'I knew it,' said Sydney.
But he can't exactly level with Matthieu about why he's here so he has to concoct an elaborate story about Jake and Sam and Sydney Thomson trying to abduct them for sale into some harem and by the time he's through he can't believe himself what he just tried to pass off as real but apparently Matthieu is shellshocked enough by what Jeremi is doing that he'll believe anything now, his jaw has been hanging open and and twitching for like five minutes.
'Give me back my money,' says Jeremi. 'Do I have to do this thing with helping him find those people? I mean, I got a good thing going here, I can play him for a few more days and probably take everything he has.'
'I suppose you'll be nice enough to leave him enough to buy a Eurostar back to the UK,' says Sydney, handing him back his money. This kid was starting to remind him of Somalia.
'Standard class,' answers Jeremi, and before Matthieu can say anything more, he's gone.
'Well, Matthieu, like you said, I'm not sure Jeremi is the one in need of protecting.'
Jeremi stuffs the €1900 in a place he knows no one but him will ever find it, then wonders just how much more this man is good for. At this rate he'll be able to let a decent flat in Paris or Bruxelles, far from this shit village, and he doesn't care what they told him, he's gonna lead this fat old idiot on several wild rides at night to not find anything at all, just to keep him paying up, and whatever the fat man wants, he'll get so long as his euros are there.
And he finds the man, sitting in public, drinking straight from a bottle of some cheap vodka, I guess Sydney has figured out that people hating him just means he can get away with anything. He offers Jeremi a swig, and Jeremi knows the role Sydney most wants him to play.
'My dad says I can't drink,' he says, puppy-dog like.
'It's okay,' says Sydney. 'I won't tell. And I have money for you, too.'
Jeremi pretends to hesitate and takes a swig from the bottle, ignoring the fact that the fat man's spit-stained mustache and backwash are all over the bottle mouth and the vodka is not just warm, it's practically hot from being in the man's fat hands for an hour.
And he leads him back to his flat, holding his hand like the man wants, and doesn't complain when Sydney tells him to put on some pajamas with cartoon characters on it, doesn't complain even when the man wants him to take off the pajama top and takes a photograph of him shirtless with a cheap disposable camera. Sydney wants to give him a bath and wash his hair and then accidentally drops the soap bar in and fumbles around down there just 'cos Jeremi is letting him, and now he's putting the soap bar in places that Jeremi isn't so sure about, he just closes his mind to it though and thinks about the money, about a place in Paris, not about the clumsy pudgy fingers prodding him with uncut dirty nails, none of that, just, the money. 'Cos he's a good actor and actors do what they're paid to do, right?
So he plays this one to the max, getting out of the tub and stuffing himself into the pajama bottoms but letting Sydney pop the button off the front and fiddle about, think of the money, and he doesn't even mind so much now when he's told to lie on his stomach and Sydney climbs on top, almost knocking the wind out of him while he fumbles with his member to try to get this little thing in, it's a tough task when you can't see around your stomach, but he manages and then it's just flap, flap as his gut slaps against Jeremi's ass and back and then he grunts like a cow getting milked with cold hands and at least the job is done and Jeremi goes to collect his salary and is pleased to see there's even more money in there this time.
'I put some extra in there, so you can help me find those people tonight, okay?'
'Oui,' says Jeremi.
'Can I play with yours some?' he asks and Jeremi nods, he doesn't mind anyone jerking him off, really, he just closes his eyes and thinks about the woman on TV in the shower commercials and that sweet tiny patch of red hair down there, the soap trickling around her pussy, imagining himself down there, first with gentle fingers, then his tongue, licking it and her moaning, and then he shoots everywhere at the thought of the slight wet fishy taste in his mouth.
'Wow, big boy,' says Sydney. 'You must have really enjoyed what I did.'
'Oui, but of course, oui, you want you can stay tonight, for money of course?'