Notting Hill has always prided itself on being a little bit different. It’s rich but not like Chelsea or Mayfair. Poor people are allowed into the area as well, some might even live there-. This makes the residents feel a little bit better about the divide between the rich and the poor in our city. The occasional smashed window or burglary is a small price to pay for the easing of the their social conscience. The Hill has no more crime than other parts of central London but what does happen can often be a little bit more bizarre.

The following story was told to me by a lawyer who had been brought up in Ladbroke Grove and had been living in the area for most of his life. Like a lot of lawyers he is not a person given to exaggeration.

Danny had been working for a main city law firm for a couple of years when his office posted him to Madrid. Naturally he jumped at the chance.

Six months were spent happily in the heat of summer Spain. Not unsurprisingly he managed to meet a beautiful Spanish girl and fall in love. The romance blossomed and he was invited in to meet her family.

Nervous at first he was amazed that she came from a famous Spanish family renown for their bullfighting capabilities. Her brother was an out right star in the bullfight scene in Spain. Despite reservations Danny was persuaded to go to a fight and watch the matador in action. The crowd adored him, women loved him. Charlie could see that there where certain benefits to being a bullfighting star.

After his time was up he was sent back to London and continued his long distance affair with Elena. Keen to keep the romance alive he flew out as often as possible. Elena would also come over whenever possible to stay with him in Notting Hill. One weekend she turned up on Friday and her brother the matador was there by her side.

Hola.

Keen to continue to make a good impression Danny sorted out a local party. He knew that the brother was fond of the ladies and was pretty sure that some of his friends would be more than happy to show the matador around. The party was held by an old friend who had been a Oxford with Danny. Her parents had bought her lovely maisonette on Kensington Park Gardens where she lived. She was blond, beautiful and as her father shoot anything that moved Danny was sure that she would not give the bullfighter a hard time about his career.

His instincts proved to be correct. Sophie and Antonio hit it off from the start. They flirted all evening and the Rioja flowed. Sophie told Antonio about her life in the country and he regaled her with tales of his near death experiences in Spain. Sophie claimed to be an animal lover, indeed she lived with a Labrador Bertie. But she could see the glory of the sport and listened to his defence of the kill as an art form. Showing him around the flat she pointed out the collection of Swords that her Grandfather had left to her. Pulling one sabre down she handed it over to the matador.

Flirtatiously she giggled to him. ‘Show me how you kill the bull.’

‘The aim of the matador is not to inflict suffering on the bull it is to kill it out right by bringing the sword down and through the shoulder plates of the bull. This will allow the sword to puncture the heart of the beast and kill it out right.’ He drooled. ‘It is not hard but your timing and accuracy must be perfect.’

At that moment Sophie’s brother who had been hitting the wine the hardest slumped past and opened the door of the spare room. Bertie surged out and shot towards his mistress. Instinctively Antonio lifted the sword and with the accuracy that he had boasted off brought the weapon down through the back bone of the dog. Silence was followed by the piercing scream of Sophie as she fell down beside the impaled and very dead dog.

Again using his legally trained mind Danny sized the situation up well and bolted for the door, quickly pulling out Elena and Antonio with him. An angry mob moved out into the street behind them but were no match for the speed of the terrified three. Hours later Danny was in a cab coming back from Heathrow. His relationship was in tatters and he was considering the possibility of a quick move away from the Hill and up to Islington.

The End.

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