We start to speed up and Marilyn jiggles and wiggles in a most un-angelic way. I realise that we’re heading over in the direction of Spitalfields Market, my old stomping ground when I was a kid. And a cunning plan pops into my head. I must admit it’s a bit on the naughty side and I’m assuming that where I am is some sort of heaven so it might get me tossed off Planet Koski to wander infinity for all time. But it’s worth it.
‘Hold up, Darling,’ I say, grabbing Marilyn’s hand. ‘Where are we going?’
Marilyn pouts. I can see she’s trying to decide whether to tell me or not. ‘Oo…’
‘Listen, love,’ I say. ‘These streets may have sparkly pavements but I’m assuming that we’re still in some sort of Bethnal Green. In which case I know the place like the back of my hand. Boo-be-doo?’
Marilyn sighs. ‘We need to get to Sandy Lane. The Synagogue.’
‘Why? You Jewish?’
‘No. Or at least I don’t think so. I’m supposed to take you there. But I can’t tell you why.’ Her bottom lip starts to tremble, along with other parts of her.
‘Calm down, Darling,’ I say. ‘I know a short cut to Sandy Lane. This way.’
Marilyn starts to say something but I don’t give her a chance.
* * *
I can’t remember how many times I’ve run down these streets but, quelle surpreez, never with an angel that looks like a screen goddess on my arm. Chops and veg nicked from Spitalfields Market, yes. Bags of hooky perfume I was flogging until rudely surprised by Old Bill, yes. You get the picture. So, I know where there’s a nice, quiet little alleyway that comes to a dead end. Perfect for a kneetrembler. Because I will never forgive myself if I don’t at least try it on with Marilyn.
‘Not far now,’ I say, leading Marilyn by the hand until we’re at the entrance to the alleyway. ‘This opens on to Sandy Lane, right by the Synagogue.’
As we walk down the alleyway, I let go of Marilyn’s hand and slow down a little. I notice that her dress has changed. She was wearing the white one from The Seven Year Itch but now it’s the sparkly number from ‘Some like it hot!’ I say out loud.
Marilyn turns and looks at me. She raises one eyebrow, stands with her hands on those mouthwatering hips. I walk towards her, trying not to think of John F Kennedy, Frank Sinatra, Marlon Brando and all the others who’ve done what I plan on doing. In my mind, I’m about to try it on with Marilyn Monroe, angel or not, ghost or not. (Although what she’d be doing on Planet Koski I do not know, unless she’s a distant relative. Which would be…Stop it, Louie! Concentrate.)
And then, of course, it dawns on Marilyn what I’m about to do. Or at least attempt. As I advance with what I hope is a seductive look on my boat, Marilyn steps backwards until she’s almost got that heavenly derriere pressed against the wall.
It all goes very quiet, as if the houses overlooking the alleyway know what I’m about to do. For a split second, I wonder if leaping on Marilyn is a terrible mistake. But life’s too short and I’m dead anyway. So The Lip makes his move.
Watch the electric skies for the fourth thrilling episode of Hasta La Planet Koski!
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