Their Lips Talk of Mischief by Alan Warner

Author:Alan Warner [Alan Warner]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780571311293
Publisher: Faber & Faber
Published: 2014-08-21T04:00:00+00:00

13

Though we couldn’t really spare the cash, we’d been borne there upon public transport rather than a two-hour walk. Lou and I arrived at The Gertrude on the Kings Road after a long debate as to buying a round straight off or waiting for Tobias Hanson to get us one.

‘We should buy our own drink. You always have to negotiate from a position of strength,’ Lou maintained.

Inside the pub, decorations were up. A Christmas tree with flashing lights was doing counterpoint next to the gambling machine, blinking out a frantic contest between the material and spiritual worlds. Foams of old-fashioned paper chains were drooping from the low ceiling so that they touched our scalps and we actually had to turn our heads from side to side to move through them and reach the bar. The landlord did not recognise us.

Toby Hanson, in his diarrhoea-coloured cashmere overcoat, bashed in the door fifteen minutes early. He had a quite large cardboard box in his arms.

Lou and I watched him close in with undisguised terror.

‘Chaps. Chaps.’ He greeted us like the oldest of friends who’d been through school and many other adventures together, yet he deftly noted both our almost-full Guinnesses. ‘Hey! See you’re all right there. I’ll get myself one.’ He put down the box beside us.

As he went up to the bar, Lou murmured, ‘Our first mistake.’

I replied, ‘I sense the glory days are over.’

Lou grunted at this assessment.

Money had been very tight at Conrad Flats. Again. The way my supplementary benefit and my housing giro fell, the Nativity was going to be a mighty lean one. Pretending I had a faulty phone card, I had continued the campaign on my parents from the call box in Bollo Lane for the still-awaited means to buy new shoes. Yet I didn’t see my parents believing they’d benefit from this particular investment. I’d even phoned National Savings Premium Bonds in Blackpool to enquire about cashing in but they had been obstructive. Aoife had already threatened heading north with Lily to her parents in Derbyshire for Christmas – and said she would take Lou with her. Her parents didn’t allow drink in their house.

Tobias crossed back to us with a Bloody Mary in his hand and he sat down. ‘Yes, chaps. Sorry all that Fear Taker business went so awry. This Morrell guitarist fellow was interested in doing a book but he’s just being difficult. Now he wants to work on it with his own collaborator. He won’t get the best book that way. Just a yes-man’s version of what he wants us all to hear. So that’s clobbered the small guide to Fear Taker as well, because if we do his book, my bosses don’t want to find us competing with ourselves. Anyway. I’ve another tasty little project for us here.’ He tapped the side of the cardboard box encouragingly.

‘Manuscripts,’ nodded Lou.

‘What’s that?’ Hanson chugged back most of his drink.

‘Manuscripts. You want us to go through some of the novel manuscripts you receive. We’d be happy to take a look at them, evaluate and give you our opinion,’ Lou stated.

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