Evidently, he thought this was my idea, rather than the idea of one of our guests, identity unknown. From the look on his face I was totally sure this...hadn’t been Dave’s idea. I felt my face blush as I took the only remaining seat, next to the man Dave had been less than keen to invite, keen to enjoy the last two days of our Chris-free time.As innocently as I could, I quickly scanned the faces to spot the guilty party, scanning right to left. Not Chris, I was pretty sure. And certainly not. As soon as I saw the drawn gun, I reacted. I pulled my gun an' fired a shot, not at the bandit's chest, but at his gun. My idea was ta git in the first bullet an' knock that pistol off line afore it could be fired. I willed my bullet ta hit the cylinder, hopin' that that my bullet would jam the gun so that it couldn't shoot. My second bullet was put into the road agent's chest over his heart.I ain't sure exactly how it happened, but the gun exploded when it was hit by my first bullet. He was. The thought of living in that luxury villa for two years and escaping Bristol's suburbs was the great appeal.Zambia was all that was said of it, a lot more, and a lot worse.I had a rude awakening to African men before we left the airport when one of the luggage handlers casually fondled Paula's bottom in front of me. The arrogant bastard did not give a damn that I was standing beside. Paula froze in shock and I yelled at the African who just grinned and seemed bemused at my protest. He shrugged. Instead, he played his dad at what he perceived was his little “game.” “What makes you think I would be able to,” Liu asked. “You are young, you are strong, you would please her,” Quon said. Liu’s first instinct was to berate his dad. Instead, he tried to be rational. “No dad, that would not be wise,” he told him as calmly as he could. “Think about it,” whispered his father. Liu shook his head at his dad and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. He stood on the front porch and.
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