21st October 9am, Prison cell

[therealpm]

*Peter stares at the ceiling, bored out of his mind.  The expenses story has been satisfactorially steered away from John, and now he has nothing to do.  He tugs at the restrainst again, no luck.*

Comments

[bigalcampbell.livejournal.com]

Good grief. Hurry up and recover, Peter, before your dog dies of heartache. You make such a cute couple, I almost feel bad doing this.

*He clips Jack's lead to his collar, taking care not to touch him too much this time.*

This has been nice, but I'm just so in demand. Speak to my agent next time and we'll talk fees, yes? See you later.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

Osborne's bailed on pretty much everything.

*Peter replies, in a rather quieter voice than usual, staring fixedly down at Jack.*

Good luck with the speech.

[furiously-fiona.livejournal.com]

Wait, what?

*She puts up a hand to stop Alastair, who's about to tug the dog off the bed.*

I'm guessing you don't mean repairing the British economy.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter shrugs awkwardly, eyes still focused on Jack, and chooses to focus on his satisfaction at keeping his voice level rather than the issue that might cause his voice to wobble in the first place.*

He bailed.

When the confirmation came through from DEFRA, he... left.

[bigalcampbell.livejournal.com]

*Alastair groans loudly and slaps a hand to his forehead.*

That's what you didn't want to tell us? Jesus... I can't say I'm surprised. He was always an odious twat, and you're better off without him. Maybe now you'll see that too, hmm?

[furiously-fiona.livejournal.com]

It's true, in years to come you'll probably come to regard this as the best birthday present you've ever had. It's like Ali always says about his breakdown; you find out who your real friends are.

*She sits down awkwardly on the side of the bed, half-tipped onto Peter's lap by the rail, and wraps an arm around his shoulders.*

Still, it must feel like shit right now.

Peter, he left you because there's something wrong with him, not because there's something wrong with you. Same Old Tories, yeah?

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter shrugs again. He doesn't particularly want to relay the entire awful phone call, complete with accusations of being a monster.*

He's been cut out of the will. Beyond much there's not much, at present, that I can do.

[bigalcampbell.livejournal.com]

Not much you can do to console your poor bruised heart, or not much you can do to wreak spectacular revenge? Because I could lend you a hand with the second one.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*That elicits a snort of amusement.*

I wasn't aware I still had one...?

I have complete confidence in your abilities regarding the latter.

[furiously-fiona.livejournal.com]

*Fiona gives his shoulders a gentle squeeze*

No one who watched you cooing over that dog for the past fifteen minutes could doubt it.

In my experience spectacular revenge is often a crucial stage of the healing process. I'm sure we can think of something appropriately gruesome to do to your arse-nosed ex, although it will be difficult to top the things he does to himself.

[bigalcampbell.livejournal.com]

*Alastair rolls his eyes but decides to hold back on the gagging motions for now.*

Damn right we will. Say, how hard would it be to smuggle him in here next full moon?

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

Thank you, Fiona.

Alastair... I've no idea. Either this 'cure' will work and I'll be out of here by then, or I'll be dead.