Sex, Drugs & Sausage Rolls by Robert Rankin

Author:Robert Rankin
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9789085241522
Publisher: For the Benefit of Mr. Kite
Published: 1998-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

“Can I have my hand back, please?” asked Litany.

“Oh yes,” said John. “Won’t you all come over and join us at our table? Jim will take care of the drinks. Won’t you, Jim?”

“I will,” said Pooley. “I will.”

Neville brought a tray out and loaded up the pints. “Now that’s more like it, Jim,” he said. “A bit of class in the bar. Estate agents, are they? Or accountants?”

“Something like that,” said Jim, fishing out his wad and peeling off a ten-spot.

Neville held it up to the light. “This better be kosher,” he said.

“But it’s the change you gave me from the last round.”

“Exactly,” said Neville. “So watch it.”

Pooley struggled across with the tray and set it down on the table. “Don’t I get a seat?” he asked.

“Bring one over, Jim,” said John, who was sitting next to Litany. “I’d give you my seat, but I’m sitting here.”

Pooley dragged a chair across and squeezed himself in between Gandhis.

A description of the Gandhi men might be useful here. But sadly there is little to be said. In their suits and with their hair dragged back, they all looked much of a muchness. Tall and lean, with sticky-out cheekbones, big on sunken eyes. Very much like brothers, they looked. But not at all like the Osmonds.

There was Ricky Zed, on lead guitar. Dead Boy Doveston on bass. Matchbox Finial on rhythm guitar and occasional keyboards, and Pigarse Peter Westlake on drums. There would no doubt have also been Adolf Hitler on vibes and Val Doonican as himself had this been the Bonzos’ Intro and the Outro. But it wasn’t, so there wasn’t.

So to speak.

Jim pushed pints around the table, smiling all round and about.

“Now, before we begin,” said Litany, “there is something that Pigarse wants to say. Isn’t there, Pigarse?”

“I have a morbid fear of identical twins,” said Pigarse.

“No, not that,” said Litany.

“My father once pushed a Barbie doll up his bottom for art,” said Pigarse.

“No, not that either.”

“I’m very sorry for punching you last night in the Shrunken Head, Mr Omally,” said Pigarse. “It was rock “n” roll madness and it won’t happen again.”

“Yes, that’s it,” said Litany.

John, whose eyes had hardly left her for a single moment, said, “That’s all right, Pigarse, forget it.”

“Stone me,” said Jim.

“Forget it,” said Omally. “I thought I’d wait until the band got really big before terminating Pigarse’s contract and chucking him out on his ear.”

“Most amusing,” said Pigarse.

“Glad you think so,” said John.

Litany took a sip at her Large and drained an even half-pint. “This is very good stuff,” said she. “So shall we get right down to business?”

John, who had never actually seen beer vanish quite as fast as that, even when it was going down his own throat, said, “Yes, that would be fine.”

Litany opened her briefcase and took from it papers which she laid on a spare bit of table. “It is imperative”, she said, “that from the word go we all know where we stand, legally. We have signed a contract

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