Reappeared the Dato after an absence. Must have been up to visit his fellow notables on the Peninsula. Light-on here for a court this morning, only a couple Batam gals provided tehs smiling at his chat. Brilliant raven dye applied for his return the night before by the looks. Always dapper to the max—belted trousers, long-sleeve shirt, watch & polished lace-ups. Narrow eye-slits through this Ramadan period. In a glimpse a moment ago when he had risen from his chair and stood in place like a rooster ready for something, a definite ping again for Kenny Rousell back in the day. Bit taller than Kenny, at least the Kenny of primary school. Kenny the vital link in the chain for the playground lunchtimes, recess & home time. Win over Kenny you were untouchable. Lad couldn’t play any of the games himself, no good at athletics. Lower level academically, if there really was such a meaningful hierarchy at Spottie. (Certainly Andrew Meerman’s Russian mother in her leopard prints, with polished silverware, knew better than most, grooming her boy for the future with piano lessons, tennis & Anglicanism.) Ultimately Kenny ruled through perfect grace you might call it: steady, fair, respectful to all. Recall his life-saving kindness accepting the horrible, gross & disgusting birthday present offered him, bought by Bab for the occasion: a striped plastic pencil case in the form of a rocket or missile. Such as was going to the moon shortly, or else being fired from aircraft carriers in a war not very far away. This was once the invitation to the afternoon party at Kenny’s was obtained; when numerous boys failed to gain. (Surprisingly, puny step-over Stephen Mead too had been one of the chosen.) For a boy of eleven! Leader of the rat pack! Andrew you could imagine it. Andrew might have gleefully accepted coloured pencils, an ink pen, grammar & spelling book for birthday presents. Coolest dude in school, in the whole neighbourhood, Ken responds to the pre-emptive taunt, No, it’s a good one. I like it. Without slightest trace of irony. Two big brothers with cars; at least one big sister. Party hats all round, candles on a cake, little trumpets that uncoiled a long colourful snake. Oh! Meadie let off. Defended decently by K. Recall the memorable council convened in the playground under the monkey-bars by Kenny, after Greg C landed at school with his shiner and cut lip, administered by his police sergeant father. (More or less deserved in fact for sexual relations with the beautiful new girl Yvonne, who shortly before had confessed in writing it was you she really loved.) Kenny masterfully prosecuting the horrid Brute’s crime, while the victim unable to utter a single syllable himself. By comparison Dato here was all puffed up pretence. In a little extended exchange the tissue-seller just now wholeheartedly agreed: bought the honour like all those other frauds up on the Peninsular.
NB. The royal passed away earlier in the year it was only revealed a short while ago.
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