Gradually, aided by the fresh constitution of
youth, Howard recovered. His headache subsided
and queasiness abandoned its tenancy of his
sore stomach.
He lay in his bed reading
The Lord Of The
Rings. For some reason, when the afeared
enemy was mentioned, his mind turned to Greg.
He mused that if Sauron, the evil would-be Lord
of the Rings, had recruited Greg to his vile
team of orcs, balrogs, ringwraiths and trolls,
then the game would be up for Middle Earth.
Greg would force his victims to drink ale until
death was the desirable alternative, if not
the direct result. The day before, Howard would
have found such a scenario, of choosing death
over beer, ludicrous. That it made sense to
him
now was a tribute to Greg's propensity
to show him danger where none existed before.
Even a short time spent in the company of Greg
would suffice for the demise of friend and foe
alike. Defiant mortals that withstood the party
would succumb to his bolts of disapproval.
Howard, though he still felt rough, was suddenly
ravenously hungry. Upon reaching the kitchen
door he saw a note nailed to it.
You lazy-arse tossa
Get out of bed, you bastard!!! Me and the
chicks are getting shitfaced at the Union dick
show. Be there!!!
Gregory
PS bring your drugs
PPS don't bring Marlon
Beneath was a note in altogether gentler, subtler
handwriting.
Dearest Howard,
Hope you get well soon
Love Gallie XOX
Once he had happily pondered Gallie's message,
Marlon's padlocked door caught his eye. He conjectured
on the appearance of his fourth flatmate, then
slammed a supermarket pizza under the grill.
He noticed his bread was unexpectedly low.
Greg's a thieving swine, he thought.
The meal improved his disposition powerfully.
His spirits were given a further impetus by
some melting moments biscuits he scavenged from
a square family biscuit tin in Gallie's cupboard.
Her baking was as restorative as her soul. He
felt almost himself again. Meanwhile the house
was starting to seem empty and overpoweringly
lonely. He toyed with the idea of a trip to
the Students Union disco. After all, it was
Friday night!
It was nine. There was still time. He would
lay off the booze. Gallie would be there...
However his hangover was not entirely overcome,
and the toxins in his bloodstream inflicted
a lethargic mood upon him. He scanned at the
TV pages of the daily tabloid. There was nothing
worth watching on any of the four channels.
He pilfered another of Gallie's melting moments
and indulged warm judgments to her favour.
Soon he was making his way on foot down the
main Chillington Road towards the University.
Halfway he heard his name called out from behind
him. He stopped, turned and was startled at
beholding a familiar face.
'Dominic! What are
you doing
here?'
Howard addressed a congenial looking lad of
his own age, taller but of a wiry build. He
wore corduroy jacket and trousers, with owlish
black plastic spectacles perched upon his long
narrow nose. He sported a friendly moustache
shaped such that it made him appear smiling,
or close to smiling. His largish, heavily lidded
eyes gave him a harmless, vulnerable air. His
dark, curly hair was eccentrically too bushy
for his face. His accent bore an upper class
lilt. Back in their hometown, for they were
acquainted from their schooldays, Howard had
noticed, with a touch of envy, how willingly
women introduced themselves to Dominic at parties.
Though he and Dominic had rarely conversed,
they had been familiar with each other's existence
for years. Their meeting in an alien town was
a catalyst for an enhanced bond between them.
They continued unhurriedly towards the campus.
'Good heavens! My good Howie! What a most splendid
surprise to see you! Most extraordinary! What
am
I doing here? Well, such as it happens,
I'm rather committed to reading philosophy,
as far as I may be able. I can't say I'm sure
why, or indeed if there's any point in studying
philosophy, I just am.'
'That makes you a fatalist!'
'If that's how you may wish to put it, yes I
suppose I am.'
'Well, it happens to us all in the end!'
'Indeed! Tell me, are you reading here, my
good fellow?'
'Astrophysics.'
'My word! Astrophysics? Gosh. I rather expect
it helps to be a rocket scientist to do that!'
'Ha! No! I'm curious about how the Universe
ticks. What is space and time? What's out there?
Stars, planets, neutron stars, galaxies! You
know the kind of thing. I'm drawn to that.'
'I do indeed!' concurred Dominic. 'I must say,
each and every time I gaze up on a clear night,
I do marvel at the millions of stars and I do
feel rather horribly insignificant.'
'I don't want to sound pedantic, Dom, but there
are only three thousand naked-eye stars in the
sky.'
They both looked upwards into the night. The
spectacle was a disappointing one. Chunky clouds
flocked above them like cosmic sheep, dyed orange
by the city lights. Not a single star shone
through the churning murk: after years of travel
through the serenity of the cosmic vacuum, the
city smog ignobly terminated the odyssey of
the starlight.
'Really? Three thousand stars?
Is that all?
Even on a crystal clear night in the Lakes?'
'Yep. Three thousand stars. Max.'
'You're pulling my leg, Howard! There are trillions!
Multitudes of the things!'
'You can see countless millions with the Mount
Palomar Telescope, but a tenner says that, even
on a night with perfect viewing conditions,
you can only see three thousand stars without
binoculars or a telescope.
'I say!
You're the astronomer! A mere
three thousand eh?' Dominic shook his head and
seemed to ponder.
'What's more,' said Howard, warming to his theme,
'the stars you
can see are not the
closest
stars but the huge stars that are further away.
Most of them are giants, stars that are reaching
the end of their life cycles. Most of the stars
you can see are stars that are
dying.'
'The stars in the sky are dying? How awfully
sad.'
'Yeah. They're snuffing it. They will either
explode or shrink and fade away into a ball
of dead embers.'
'So the stars in the sky will disappear then?
Blimey! Well I never!' said Dominic.
Howard was flattered by Dominic's keen interest
in his pet subject.
'Quite. In millions of years they'll die.
But they will be replaced by fresh stars.'
'The stars look so deuced peaceful. They just
sit there, little white dots in the sky.'
'Most of them are not white: stars have colours.
Take stars in the Orion constellation, Betelgeuse
is red and Rigel is blue.'
'Really? They all look the same to me, my dear
fellow. So where're you off to then?'
'Union dick-show.'
'What?'
'The Student Union dick-show.
Disco.'
'Oh, ha ha! Super!' said Dominic. 'Mind terribly
if I join you? You see, my darling girlfriend
said she'd be there. She's going with her friends
she lives with. They're all rather close, you
know. She said I'd see her in there.'
'You've a girlfriend here? Hey, you pulled,
you raver you!' laughed Howard. He became acutely
aware of his own perpetual and accursed failures
with women.
'Yes, I've found a
new one, only met
her a month ago, terribly long story. But I
can tell you this much, she's a juicy good girl!
F
antastic! A picture! Fiendishly clever!
Everything a chap could want!'
They arrived at the twisted architecture of
the Students Union, its tortured features lit
spookily by lights concealed at its base. Within
the foyer of the Union the atmosphere was charged
by Friday night bustle and expectation. Youthful
hormones spilled into the air and sped the pulse.
They and joined the long, unruly queue for the
disco tickets. Manic students shouted and laughed.
The tempo of the friends' conversation speeded
up.
'You put Redater Uni down on your UCCA form?'
said Dominic.
'Yeah. Last choice. Fucked up the A-levels.'
'Me too. The exams were a distinct debacle.
I get so dashed nervous in exams, you see.'
'Ideally I would have gone in for an American
college,' said Howard. 'All the Yank chicks
are fascinated with the English accent. They
all want sex with an Englishman for novelty
value.'
'When I enquire of them if they enjoyed sex,
girls always tell me, "
Sleeping with
you was an experience most lofty in novelty
value. Please pass the ciggies." Or
something to that effect.'
Howard laughed without pleasure. He felt the
curse of his virginity all the more sharply.
The world was leaving him behind. Soreness resurfaced
in his head. If he didn't pull a girl at this
disco, he would go mental.
Their queue slowly brought them to the ticket
booth.
"Pound eighty please,' said the green
jacketed girl purveying lime tickets. Money
rattled into a till.
They dumped their coats into the care of the
cloakroom attendant in exchange for pink tickets.
They then handed in their lime tickets to the
amicable 'security' staff at the large glass
entrance doors and made their way to the bar
room situated behind the main disco hall.
'It's awfully sweaty in here. Chock-a-block
as usual,' said Dominic.
They squeezed through the viscous ocean of boozing
students in the bar room. Howard felt crushed
by the balmy ambience. At a long bar several
layers of revellers competed with each other
for the precious attentions of the lugubrious-looking
bar staff.
'This place is evermore
extortionate,'
sighed Dominic. 'It's a disgrace how the tickets
have escalated in price. Last week they were
thirty pee cheaper. Poverty's a sure thing
if you study here. Indeed, I'm already I'm
one pound eighty closer to irreversible destitution.
To think all our hard earned grant money gets
siphoned off into a Swiss bank account belonging
to that bloody Student Union Treasurer fellow.
It's daylight robbery. Quite ghastly.'
It took quarter of an hour to get served. The
seats, arranged around tables after the fashion
of a railway carriage, were all crammed with
drinkers. The two friends stood alongside the
multitudes and exchanged gossip about their
hometown and mutual acquaintances. It was necessary
to raise the voice to be heard above the hullabaloo
of the crowd. The crowd in turn were competing
with the music that blared from the disco that
was hotting up around the corner. As Howard
was almost hollering a reminiscence over Van
Halen's
Jump, something fleetingly caught
his eye. Jacintha popped into sight and vanished
back into the crowd, like a ghost particle extinquished
in the boiling vacuum.
***
*****
***
It was past eleven. The metal shutters of the
long bar slammed down and the students were
evacuated from the barroom to squeeze in with
the crowd that already occupied the great disco
hall. From the now-open disco-side of the long
bar, the bar staff served the impatient, queuing
students with the same languidness as before.
A labyrinth of nooks, corners and seating arrangements
circumscribed a huge dance floor. The young
partiers, fuelled by the belting music and intoxication,
danced and watched; chatted and flirted; smoked
and drank. The disco ambience was trendy (for
the hedonistic late eighties) sporting black
décor and laser beams carving dazzling sculptures
in the air. The dance floor was a pulsating
womb of light, profligacy and optimism embedded
in a husk of onlooking darkness. The inevitable
pop blasted from house-sized speaker towers.
'
Its like that, its like that, that's the
way it is huh!' wailed Run DMC.
Somewhere in the murky outskirts of the disco
arena, Howard assisted Dominic in propping up
a pillar. He was in high spirits. His foot
tapped under the influence of the beat. He was
pleased with Dominic and told him how astonishing
it was that they had not been better acquainted
in their hometown. Dominic was comforting company
indeed. Such a familiar face provided reassurance
that he could go back to his roots if he felt
like it. Not that he did right now.
Howard nodded towards some leather-clad, moustachioed
students.
'Bet ya life they're bent!'
'I'll say. They'll be on Channel four before
long, just you wait and see!' said Dominic,
stroking his own moustache.
'Yeah, you would think it highly fashionable
to possess at least a trace of queerness nowadays.
Nowadays everything is fashionable except everything
I want to say, everything I want to do, everything
I want to wear and everything I want to fuck!'
'That's perfectly true, my dear fellow, to be
fashionable is absolutely unpleasant and beyond
taste!'
Dominic, increasingly impatient as the night
went on, went off to search for his girlfriend.
Howard gazed at exclusively female clusters
on the dance floor. Each little group of three
or four girls orbited a tiny cairn of handbags.
Around them lads danced in fastidiously chosen
positions designed to capture the attention
of a favoured prospect.
Dominic returned from his circuit of the disco.
'Where's your chick, Dominic? You say she should
be in here?'
'Yeah. Sue said she should be here with her
friends. As it happens, she did say she wanted
to see more of them, but I was perfectly welcome
to meet her here if I wished it.'
'Is she nice?' said Howard absently. His own
mind was preoccupied with Gallie.
'Truly delectable. Tastier than chocolate truffles,
or anything savoury for that matter.'
'Sweet then?'
'She's mightily eatable, yes, the saucy sexpot!'
'You'll be partaking in a
midnight feast
tonight then eh, Dominic?'
'I rather do hope she's serving!'
Dominic's grin faded into frustration as he
scanned the multitudes once again.
'Greg!' shouted Howard.
A hefty figure stopped and swivelled until facing
them. Moving towards them his mighty presence
eclipsed the disco lights.
'Howie!' Greg heartily slapped Howard on the
back, causing a relapse to a state of nausea
within his delicate stomach.
'Hiya mate,' said Howard weakly, trying desperately
to keep down his beer.
'Howie, you tossa! Ha! Ha! Thought you'd crawl
down here, I had faith in ya, perv. The talent
here is too bleeding hot to resist eh! Ha ha
ha! I knew it! You're no spineless party pooper!'
'So it appears.'
Greg put on a look of mock shiftiness, glancing
from side to side in an comic manner.
'Howard, if you're on drugs again tonight, give
your Uncle Greg some, there's a good boy!'
Another friendly slap on the back didn't help
Howard's ability to reply. Heroically he managed
it.
'I
wasn't on drugs! Besides, didn't your
mother warn you about buying dodgy shit from
strange men?'
'Yeah, she did,' said Greg jovially. 'Fucking
grand woman, my mother! She said, "
Never
buy drugs from a stranger." She said,
"
It's far cheaper to hoof the bastard
in the knackers and nick it."'
'You're mother's a
tart!'
Coincidentally, at that moment there was a pause
in the music. Howard and Greg squared off, raised
their fists and jabbed at each other.
'
Sodom and Gomorrah! Don't say y
ou've
fucking been with her as well!' bellowed Greg.
The music came blared up again. Dominic had
desisted looking around for his girlfriend.
He stared at Greg open jawed.
'Greg, this is Dominic. He's from back home.
Dominic, this is Greg. Greg's a mental bastard
from my digs.'
Greg looked at Dominic with recognition and
great interest. 'I know you from somewhere!
Yeah! You're Sue's, erm...'
'Sue's
boyfriend, yes!' said Dominic.
'I do recollect that Sue introduced us once
at a party. I must say, you were cradling an
awfully comely dame.'
'Yeah, ha! I admit it!' said Greg with a nostalgic
smile. 'She was bloody hot and bleeding spicy!
And you should have seen-'
'
Greg,' interrupted Howard, 'are you
implying that Dominic's girlfriend -
Sue - is the
same Sue we met yesterday,
you know, the tasty blonde chick with the perm?'
'Yep. The very same Sue!'
'But wasn't she was going to dump-' Howard paused
when Greg put his finger to his lips.
'
That's right Howie,' said Greg
with a conspiratorial wink.
'Gosh! You've already met Sue!' said Dominic
to Howard. 'Oh that's perfectly splendid!
I positively
can't wait to reintroduce
you! Did you say you and Greg dwell in the same
abode?'
'Howard's the untidy sod of the household,'
said Greg.
'Lies!' denounced Howard. 'Greg leaves frying
pans full of greasy lard in the kitchen sink
for days on end!'
'And how did you know that? You've only lived
here three days!'
'The girls told me.'
'The
girls? You believe
them?
It's a ludicrous crock of shit! Them girls fib
like bleeding
thieves! And they squeal
like
pigs! And that's just in the bleeding
bedroom. OK, Dominic, you know Howard from way
back? Tell me all the bad stuff. Spill the
beans!'
'Of course! It's one's moral duty to snitch
on one's friends!' said Dominic.
'Don't!' said Howard. 'Don't you say a word!
I came here to break away from my past, not
have it all dug up again. I'm begging you Dominic!
And it's rare that I beg when I'm not gambling
or asking a woman for sexual favours.'
The night was in full swing with some students
flirting and others dancing to cheerfully cheesy
disco anthems (
The Communards' Don't
leave me this way was spinning beneath the
DJ's needle).
Dominic's eyes widened. His mouth widened into
a dumbfounded grin.
'I say! Sue! There she is! The love of my life!'
'Where?' Howard turned in the direction of the
dance floor.
'There she is, over there! I do like that black
dress! Oh my! Just look at that ribbon tied
in her hair! It's absolutely perfect! I must
say, I am in love with her yet more ardently
since she had her hair altered to make it so
dashingly curly like that! She had it done this
week you know. I must have inspired her, bless
her!'
Greg gave Dominic a funny look.
Howard followed the bearing of Dominic's pointing
finger. There, in the centre of the vast dance
floor, was Sue: the very same Sue that Greg
had introduced him to the night before. Her
tightly coiled fair hair was an extremely distinctive
feature, even at a distance. Most of the girls
Sue was dancing with he recognised from
The
George and Dragon. Howard saw that Greg
was particularly animated and amused.
'She's a stunner in that low-cut dress,' observed
Howard.
'I might add she's a wild animal in bed!' Dominic
glowed with pride. 'I don't mind telling you
she's a bit of an untamed tigress, fiery, with
awful, feral lust.'
Greg laughed and queried Dominic on the subject
of sex with Sue. Dominic was discreet in his
replies. Nethertheless, Greg's contemptuous
air towards Dominic had been entirely substituted
by friendly approval.
All this time Dominic had seldom taken his eyes
off his girlfriend.
'I do rather think I'll take a little wander
over and say, "
meow!"'
Dominic sidled towards the centre of the dance
floor to greet to his pretty love.
'That daft knave is your mate! Well I bleeding
never!' said Greg.
Dominic had approached the dancing girls but
had not made his presence apparent to them.
Kept his distance and watched. He resembled
a man who had altered his mind about his present
intention. Finally, without interacting with
Sue and the girls, he returned.
'I say, I rather think we should
all
go over.' suggested Dominic. 'The more the
merrier!'
'No, no,' said Greg, 'leave me out of it matey!
I haven't the heart to see a good man get ditched.'
'What?'
'Show me your hand. Hold it up palm up,' said
Greg. 'Come on, man, I haven't got all bleeding
night.'
With the hesitancy of a mouse lost in a viper's
den, Dominic proffered his hand.
'No not like that. Like
this! Hmm. Now
I will invoke the magical powers of the Uncanny
Fish!'
'Fish?'
Greg pulled out a small, red cellophane fish
from his jacket pocket. He placed the fish
upon Dominic's upturned palm.
'Oh dear! You haven't had sex for over a week,
eh?'
Dominic's face expressed surprise that confirmed
the truth of Greg's diagnosis.
'Why... why do you say that?' he stammered. His
complexion reddened. 'Did
Sue tell you
that?'
'Don't be soft! The Shag Fish never lies about
matters of the carnal flesh! You see how the
little beggar lifts his tail so high in the
air like that. That means you're not getting
any
how's yer father! And if you're
not getting any bleeding
how's yer father
for
this long then its time to move on
to another chick! I'd ditch Sue before she
ditches you, mate, if I were you. Grasp the
nettle of freedom!'
(For his part, Howard prayed Greg wouldn't try
the Shag Fish out on
him).
Dominic looked pale.
'Never! I love Sue perfectly and she is terribly
in love with me! I don't give a monkeys where
your absurd
fish thing points its tail,
Sue and me share a most noble destiny! To be
lovers! Forever!'
'Ah, good for bleeding
you, Dominic.
Good luck mate.'
'Well, I don't mind telling you, I'm going for
it!'
So saying, Dominic marched proudly over to Sue
and her group of friends and danced with them
and their heap of handbags.
Howard and Greg watched Dominic's dance with
fascination, for it was incredible to behold.
Unwieldily and slightly effeminately, he twisted
his arms and moved his stringy legs sporadically,
like a moulting stick insect. Sue maintained
a careful range from him, whereas her friends
showed no such restraint. They crowded around
him and joyfully toyed with him. Their faces
glowed with delight. They giggled and reached
out and frequently patted and caressed him.
They found it fun to fiddle with his mass of
curly hair and take it in turns to try on his
glasses. Dominic displayed none of his earlier
nerves and frolicked with increasing abandon
and vim.
'Blimey!' said Greg. 'Two of those chicks (the
ones who keep putting their hands on Dominic's
arse) I've never seen
them before.
Sodom
and Gomorrah! Sue has a fucking genius for
gathering fit playmates around her! Perhaps
whatshisname...'
'Dominic,' prompted Howard.
'Yeah, Dominic. I have a plan. Maybe your mate
Dominic could nudge those two saucy babes our
way. I'm forever bleeding inviting Sue to send
her friends and gorgeous cousins running into
my welcoming arms. Fucking alas! She refuses
to let me get my grubby mitts on her lovelies.
Don't know why! But she might humour
you,
because you're a mate of her daft, soon-to-be-ditched
boyfriend. So she might help, you know,
out of guilt. This guilt trip thing women suffer
from is a great for getting favours. I'll keep
out of the way and ambush when Sue's back is
turned. Shit! She's bleeding seen us! Your mate's
only gone and bleeding pointed us out to her!'
Greg waved and smiled pleasantly.
'Just wait till I get my hands around his scrawny
neck!' he continued through gritted teeth. 'He'll
regret the day he ever stepped foot in Redater
by the time I've bleeding finished with him!
For fucks sake.'
'She already knows I'm connected to you,' said
Howard. 'Remember, you introduced us yesterday.
I say we do away with the diplomacy. We go
over there, grab those two, and drag them screaming
back to the pad for some Bovril and other beef-related
pleasures!'
'Ha, ha,' said Greg, 'very entre-bleeding-preneurial!'
You're not as soft as you look! Come over and
meet some of my mates. We're
that way.'
Howard followed Greg through the hoards of students
to a table choked with males and pint glasses.
He and Greg squeezed onto a bench. The latter
was regaled with greetings and crass remarks.
Greg smiled at the boozy cannonade of banter.
He dealt with the remarks as a black belt guru
might block the katas of the novice.
'Where ya been, Greg?' said a student of a small,
wiry build. 'I said
"hello"
to your Karen. She said, "
Any friend
of Greg's can get stuffed"!' (To uproarious
laughter) 'It was I in the blue corner and she
in the fucking red! But I'm a gent and I don't
punch lasses, so I let her off.'
A tall drinking partner chipped in, 'you're
too short to reach her anyway!'
Greg raised a hand. Everyone looked at him.
He looked back at them.
'He's too short to reach her
anything!'
While Greg's audience guffawed with the loud
abandon of the intoxicated, Howard noticed that
Greg seemed aloof from them. Greg spoke to
the assembled company with the vague contempt
and ennui of an eagle king whose subjects were
goshawks.
'Fuck you, you fucking fucker,' muttered the
diminutive student.
Howard watched intently. The mood had worryingly
condensed form merriment to animosity.
'Who taught
you to say "
fuck"?
Your bleeding
mother?' said Greg.
'I'm Irish. Its how we fucking talk!' protested
the lad with utmost fervour.
'
Sodom and Gomorrah!
Fuck is an
Anglo-fucking-Saxon word, for fuck's sake, you
tart!' boomed Greg.
'Don't fucking tell me Anglo-fucking-Saxon!
You forced your fucking language on us,
so
you can fucking well put up with it!'
Greg and the Irish lad erupted in laughter.
The rest followed.
For the best part of an hour Howard drank beer
with Greg's rowdy mates. Although drunk, they
were sharp witted and avid raconteurs. But
they listened most keenly when Greg spoke and
laughed most raucously at his jokes.
At one point a student sitting next to Howard
turned to him and spoke in a voice only Howard
could hear.
'You live with Greg?' The student laughed.
'Whatever you do, you move out of there! Don't
tell him I said that!'
Howard laughed, took another generous swig from
his plastic pint glass and gazed at the dance
floor. To his woozy mind the dancers were buffeted
by the booming music like boats in a slow-motion
storm.
 | | | | |
| From: |
isolani | Subject: | 2001-05-28 18:12:29 |
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| From: |
Not your bloody business | Subject: | 2001-05-28 21:01:47 |
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| From: |
Knoeier | Subject: | 2001-05-30 05:29:48 |
| | | | |
| From: |
Knoeier | Subject: | 2001-05-30 05:31:18 |
| | | | |
| From: |
MadPole | Subject: | 2001-06-03 17:10:36 |
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| From: |
MadPole | Subject: | 2001-06-03 17:14:59 |
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| From: |
MadPole | Subject: | 2001-06-03 17:30:35 |
| | | | |
| From: |
Jerry | Subject: | 2001-06-04 14:30:33 |
| | | | |
| From: |
Jerry | Subject: | 2001-06-04 14:30:35 |
| | | | |
| From: |
Knoeier | Subject: | 2001-06-05 12:37:19 |
| | | | |
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