Дэвид Митчелл - Utopia Avenue

Spring brought tulips and a reversal. One April morning Jasper thought he could hear a far-off knock, knock, knock … By evening he was sure. Dr Galavazi speculated that Jasper was acquiring an immunity to Queludrin. He tried alternative psychotropics but the knocking grew nearer and louder until the doctor agreed to increase Jasper’s Queludrin dosage to 15mg. Formaggio sent him the complete set of Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music . Jasper felt an affinity to the blues tunes. With his Brazilian teacher, he mastered Tarréga’s ‘Recuerdos de la Alhambra’. It was so beautiful that Jasper could hardly breathe. Buds unfolded. Insects spilled. Woodpeckers hammered. Birdsong drenched the woods around Rijksdorp. Jasper broke down into violent sobs, but couldn’t say why. A trip was organised to nearby tulip fields. Jasper got on the bus, but before they were out of Rijksdorp Wood, he found himself struggling to breathe. The bus had to take him back. Jasper’s first anniversary as a patient came and went. Would there be a second, a third, a tenth?

The knocking started again. Dr Galavazi increased the Queludrin dosage to 20mg. ‘That’s the last time,’ he told Jasper. ‘It’s killing your kidneys.’ Jasper felt like a cat on its ninth life.

One August day, Grootvader Wim appeared with Heinz Formaggio, who was six inches taller, bulkier and sported a half-beard and a gaberdine suit. He was to sail from Rotterdam to New York the following day. An institute in Cambridge, Massachusetts, had awarded him a scholarship. The friends sat beneath the almond tree. Jasper played ‘Recuerdos de la Alhambra’. Formaggio spoke about their Ely classmates, theatre, sailing in Greece and a new science called cybernetics. Jasper’s news was confined to the routines of a psychiatric hospital. He longed to be free of his battle with a demon or, if Dr Galavazi was correct, a psychosis posing as a demon. Later, as Grootvader Wim’s car carried Formaggio off to his brilliant future, Jasper understood that death is a door; and asked himself, What does one do with a door?

The door opens onto a hallway swirling with laughter, anecdotes and the Getz/Gilberto LP turned up loud. Lilies and orchids burst from Grecian urns. A staircase curves towards a modernist chandelier. A man in his forties floats over, radiating a host’s bonhomie. ‘Dean I know from last month’s papers. Elf’s the girl. Jasper, the hair. Which leaves Griff – and Levon. Who else could you be? Welcome to my Midsummer Ball.’

‘The honour’s ours, Mr Hershey,’ says Levon.

‘It’s Tony,’ insists the director. ‘No standing on ceremony here. My wife said you were in a recording studio when she called. Tell me I’m not your man from Porlock. I’d never forgive myself.’

‘You averted a murder,’ says Griff. ‘Things were turning ugly about a keyboard solo.’

‘Is this the hallway and staircase where you shot the party scene in Cat’s Cradle ?’ asks Jasper.

‘Well spotted! I’d utterly blown the budget, so this was one less set to build. I say, Tiff? Tiff!’ He beckons at a woman with a golden bouffant, a dress of swirling blues and pinks, flared pantaloons and bare arms. ‘Look who’s arrived!’

‘Utopia Avenue.’ She walks over, smiling. ‘And Mr Frankland, I assume.’ Jasper guesses she’s fifteen years younger than her husband. ‘Delighted you could make it – at such short notice.’

‘We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’ says Elf. ‘Your home’s breathtaking, Tiffany.’

‘Tony’s accountant told us to turn the Battleship Hill money into bricks and mortar, or hand it over to the Inland Revenue. It’s perfect for parties but, golly, it’s a nightmare to keep on top of.’

‘Tiffany introduced me to your Paradise LP,’ says the director. ‘This was before that awful Italian business. It’s a sublime record.’

A compliment , thinks Jasper. ‘Thanks.’ Be agreeable. ‘We think so too.’ Everyone looks at him. I said something off-key.

‘What’s remarkable,’ says Tiffany Hershey, ‘is that my favourite song changes every time we play it.’

‘So what song’s yer favourite right now?’ asks Dean.

‘Where do I begin? “Unexpectedly” pulls my heart-strings. “Darkroom” sends shivers down my spine, but if you tied me up and forced me to choose …’ she looks at Dean ‘… “Purple Flames”.’

Dean says nothing. Jasper guesses he’s pleased.

‘If it’s not too cheeky, Tiffany,’ Elf brings out an autograph book from her handbag, ‘would you mind ever so?’

‘How awfully sweet,’ says Tiffany, taking the pen. ‘It’s been simply ages since I signed anything. Except cheques.’

‘My mum took my sisters and me to see Thistledown at the Richmond Odeon. Afterwards my sister Bea announced, “I’m going to be an actress.” Now she’s in her first year at RADA.’

‘Oh, my golly!’ says Tiffany Hershey. ‘What a story!’

‘See, Tiff?’ says Hershey. ‘Your fans haven’t gone anywhere.’

Tiffany Hershey writes: ‘ To Bea Holloway, my sister in drama, Tiffany Seabrook. ’ ‘ Thank you,’ says Elf. ‘She’ll have this framed.’

‘What’s your new film about, Tony?’ asks Jasper.

‘It’s what Hollywood calls “a road movie”. A London pop star is told he has only a month to live and hitches to the Isle of Skye to address unfinished business. He’s accompanied by the ghost of his dead sister, Piper. Adventures and epiphanies along the way guaranteed. Emotional climax. Twist in the tail. The End – until the Oscars flood in.’

‘Who’s playing the star,’ asks Levon, ‘if it’s not an impertinent question?’

‘It’s a moot and pressing question. Should I go for an Albert Finney or a Patrick McGoohan? Or for a bona fide singer who’s actually, you know, lived through it?’

‘Cast the Real McCoy,’ says Dean. ‘Every time. I’ll do it. I’ve got bags o’free time over the next few months, right Levon?’

He looks and sounds as if he meant it, but Jasper guesses from everyone else’s smile that he was joking, and that it’s not a serious offer. Jasper acts a smile. ‘Do you have a title?’

‘ The Narrow Road to the Deep North ,’ says Tiffany.

‘That’s jolly evocative,’ says Elf. ‘I love it.’

‘The title’s from Basho¯,’ says Jasper. ‘The Japanese poet.’

‘ Someone ’s an omnivorous reader,’ says Tiffany.

‘I had lots of time to read when I was young.’

‘Before you joined the Old Farts’ Club, you mean?’ The director says it half smiling, but Jasper doesn’t get the joke.

‘Tiffany will be making her acting comeback as Piper.’ Hershey sips his Pimm’s. ‘After four years away.’

‘Five,’ says Tiffany Hershey. ‘Six, by the time it’s out. Your song, Jasper, “The Prize”’ – Tiffany turns to Jasper – ‘reminds me of “Tomorrow Never Knows” . How conscious was that?’

‘Not very,’ says Jasper. A pause. Do they want more?

‘John’s here, you know,’ says Anthony Hershey.

‘No fookin’ way!’ says Griff. ‘Lennon? Here? At this party?’

‘In the living room, I believe,’ said the host. ‘By the punchbowl. Tiffany, would you make the introductions? I was on a quest to find some green olives for Roger Moore …’

‘Three facts.’ The man by the punchbowl is not John Lennon, but an older man with bad teeth, a shark’s-tooth necklace and evangelical eyes. Tiffany and the others move off, but Jasper likes facts. ‘Fact one: UFOs from other stars visited Earth during the Neolithic era. Fact two: ley-lines were their navigation aids. Fact three: where ley lines converge, we have a landing site. Stonehenge was the Heathrow Airport of pre-Roman England.’