Hanif Kureishi - Collected Stories

She went to Bodger. ‘What’s wrong with him?’

‘He’s smoked too much.’

‘Not more than normal,’ said Moon hastily.

‘What is it, the stuff you gave him?’

‘Mellow Wednesday. Because it’s mellow.’

‘I’m still alive,’ Rocco moaned, and said quietly to Bodger, ‘If I can get out of here I’ll be okay.’

Later, they all walked along the front under a violet sky.

Fearing that Moon might try and talk to her, Lisa tried to stay close to Karen and her son. Fear and dejection weakened her; she could hardly move her legs. But she didn’t go home, thinking Moon would try and accompany her. They went down to the beach.

‘I’m going,’ said Rocco at last.

Lisa took his arm. ‘Me too.’

Rocco said, ‘Thanks for the smoke, Moon. I’ll do the same for you some day.’

Moon said he was going in her direction. What a fool she’d been to provoke Moon, but she had been stupefied by desire. Now she had to take the consequences.

Rocco turned away. ‘I’ve got stuff to do. See you later.’

‘I must talk to you,’ said Moon, when he’d gone. ‘You’re playing games with me.’

Lisa said, ‘But I’m depressed.’

‘That’s not going to stop me fucking you this evening. Otherwise what you’ve been doing will get around. People round here will certainly be interested, you know what they’re like. In fact I think I’m going to fuck you today and tomorrow. After, you can do what you want.’

Lisa stopped at her front door. It was getting dark. She listened to the steady sea roar, glanced up at the star-strewn sky and felt she wanted to finish with everything.

‘You’re right, I’ve messed you around.’

She walked rapidly away and then turned up a side street leading away from the town. Pale patches of light from illuminated windows lay here and there on the road and she felt like a fly, perpetually falling into an inkpot and then crawling out again into the light. Moon was following her. At one point he stumbled, fell, and started laughing.

She turned. ‘Not in my house.’

Rocco had decided to spare Lisa all the lies at once. He would spread them out. He had also had another brilliant idea: to tell Bodger that she was going to accompany him, and, at the last moment, announce that she wasn’t well enough. If Bodger wouldn’t give him the money he’d leave anyway, hitch-hiking to London and sleeping on the street. After yesterday’s embarrassing paranoid fit, staying in the town was impossible.

Having decided this he felt better. He would visit Bodger for lunch, and charm him, and put him at ease. As soon as he walked in he saw Vance and Feather.

Before Rocco could get out, Vance said, ‘How d’you feel after your little fit? I thought only women had hysterics.’

‘Hysteria is ridiculous, yes. But most people recognise that paranoia is a kind of language, speaking to us but in a disguised way.’

Vance was looking at him with contempt. ‘You’re hopeless. Always scrounging money and talking rubbish.’

‘What? What did you say?’

‘You heard.’

Rocco went into the kitchen where Bodger was preparing lunch.

He began to yell, ‘If you haven’t got the money, just say that. But don’t go round town telling everyone about my problems! Don’t you know how to keep a confidence? I suppose, as a doctor, you tell everyone about your patients’ illnesses!’

Bodger threw a wooden spoon at him. ‘Come back later!’

Rocco rushed out of the kitchen.

‘Everyone’s spying on me now!’ he cried. ‘There’s nothing better for people to talk about! I borrow money! I ask someone to help me! And for that I am crucified! Then people say I get paranoid … End this surveillance now — that’s all I’m asking!’

Bodger followed him out of the kitchen, red-faced with rage. ‘No one accuses me of such shit!’

Feather began to laugh.

Rocco shouted at Bodger, ‘Just leave me alone!’ He looked at Vance. ‘Particularly you — you fascist Burger Queen.’

‘Sorry? Did I hear you right? I think I might have to kick your head in.’

‘Try it.’

This was the moment Vance had been waiting for. He took it slowly.

‘Not your head. Maybe I’ll break a few fingers, or an arm. It’ll be educational for you.’

Vance moved towards Rocco with his fists up. Rocco stood there. Bodger extended his arms between them.

‘But you can’t even fight,’ Vance told Rocco across Bodger. ‘I don’t think there’s anything you can do.’

‘No? Burger Queen — bring me some French fries too. Two French fries and a knickerbocker glory! Ha, ha ha!’

Vance said, ‘I’m tempted, but I’m not going to fight you now — because I might kill you. I’ll fight you tomorrow.’

‘I used to be a skinhead.’

‘Ha! See you tomorrow morning. On the Rim. No rules, skinhead.’

‘Bastard, I’m going to stick your head in a bun and eat it with onions and relish! Ha, ha, ha!’

Vance smacked his fist into his palm. ‘I’m afraid you’re going to get damaged. Badly. Oh, oh, oh, you’re going to cry!’

‘Can’t wait,’ said Rocco. ‘And by the way, can I have a green salad on the side?’

A few drinks made Rocco feel even better. And when his mood declined he had only to recall Vance’s sneering face, manicured hands and Nigerian shirt to lift himself. How could a fool from a nothing place upset him? He would get the first punch in, and stamp on the bastard.

Teapot was in the pub and when Rocco told him about the fight they went into a field and practised karate kicks. It had been some time since Rocco had kicked anything but Lisa out of bed, and he kept tripping over even as he imagined his boot meeting Vance’s balls.

Struggling for breath, he got up and declared, ‘It’s desperation not technique that’s required. I’m going to rely on insanity.’

‘That’s right,’ said Teapot. ‘Go mental.’

‘Now fuck off.’

He was glad to be alone. But when it got dark he became uneasy. He wanted to be in bed, but knew the night would be sleepless. He would have to think about Vance and prepare the lies he had to tell to Lisa. It was better to go from pub to pub.

He had been doing this for some time when Teapot tracked him down.

‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you,’ said the teenager. ‘Come here!’

Rocco tried to swat him away. ‘I’m saving my energy for tomorrow.’

Teapot almost picked him up and dragged him out of the pub. Rocco had no idea why Teapot should be in such a hurry. Teapot pushed him through the town’s narrow streets to the beach and along the wall. There, Teapot took his hand and told him to be quiet.

Bewildered, Rocco followed him, and was helped onto the top of the wall. They lay down; at a sign from the ever-helpful Teapot they peered over the top. In the gloom Rocco could see Moon lying with his head between a woman’s legs. Looking at the sky, she was humming to herself, as she liked to. He had imagined she only did that for him.

Bodger was ashamed of his outburst. He wanted to apologise to his friend and explain that fighting was childish.

Searching the pubs he stopped and sat down several times, recognising that it had been Rocco who’d insulted him and that he’d always done everything he could to help him.

When he opened the door of his house, Bodger heard Vance and Feather.

‘Tomorrow there’s going to be a fight,’ Vance declared. ‘We’re civilised people, but we want to beat each other’s brains to porridge. The strongest will triumph. Love and peace — out of the window! The thought of a fight — it’s frightening … but don’t we love it?’