Chapter 15

Toby was not put off by the misleading information I gave him about the sect in the Give and Take. He strolled into the bookshop a couple of days later to ask for a copy of their book. He even claimed to have persuaded Jayde not to hassle me about the baby, at least until after it was born. Alicia's three copies were in store in Jeremy's basement, and reluctantly I went down for one, reassuring myself that it did not even mention The Rocking Boulders. Wading through all that turgid prose ought to stop him pestering me for a while. He took it from me and said thanks, but did not offer me any money, apparently expecting to get it for nothing. We usually reduced the price of books that had been in stock for a long time, and I asked him for half what had previously been pencilled in. He raised his eyebrows, but another customer was waiting and reluctantly he dug out his money and left.

Later I took the coins into Hatshepsut's Pavilion, telling Alicia that the customer was an ex-boyfriend. 'Well done, ' she said, 'I had begun to think those books would be cluttering up the place up for ever. Actually, if any of my stuff is in Jeremy's way, I've got some space here now; one of the stallholders at the Psychic Fayre has taken a load of stock off my hands.' She continued: 'There's something else I've been meaning to ask you. What would you think of Myrtle coming in to help again, now the rest of us are busy researching material for Rick's book?'

'You're not going to fire me, are you?'

'No, don't be silly. Myrtle doesn't want a long term job.'

'Will she find out about Rick's book?'

'No, I don't think so. She's a music teacher and doesn't think much of The Rocking Boulders. If we happen to mention them in passing, she won't take much notice. Her taste is like Jeremy's, classical music and jazz. If she asks I can tell her we need her help because you're doing some work for Loyd for a month or two, sorting out papers for him.'

'She'll probably spend all her time telling me how useless men are. But ... yes, why not ask her.'

'Odd you selling that book about the Oracles of Aten today, though. I've been making enquiries about them for my section of Rick's life story. I've tracked down a telephone number, in a town on the Sussex coast where the sect was based, for someone with the same name as their leader, though I can't be completely sure it's him until we've spoken. I'll try the number again this afternoon. If he's willing, I'll arrange to go down and have a chat one day when Myrtle is here to mind the shop.'

Rick's association with the Oracles of Aten was not covered in any of the books that Dale had borrowed from the library; more details were well worth hunting for. She thought it probable, for instance, that before the Boulders had split with the sect, they had worked out the story line of the rock opera together. Rick had once played her a tape recording of a couple of songs from it; sensitive and sophisticated, they were quite different from the band's usual stuff.

That evening I rang The Handyman to ask him about the abandoned rock opera. 'Oh that, ' he said. 'You have been doing some digging, haven't you? Now you mention Egypt, I remember ages ago seeing some boards painted with pyramids and an oasis with palm trees. They might have been for an Egyptian stage set, I suppose. The basement and attic rooms in the villa are stuffed full of old studio tapes and god knows what else. You could spend forever searching through all the junk. A lot of it is crap the lads picked up on tour, people give them pendants, arm bands, all sorts of souvenirs. Old stuff gets chucked out to make room for new, they bring more back whenever they go anywhere. There are reels of film and old video tapes; no one can be bothered to find out what's on them.

'That rock opera was long before I went on the payroll. A mate who worked for them in the sixties told me about it. He said Quick fancied some bird who was supposed to be a High Priestess. The rumour at the time was he got her pregnant. Most likely, in the end, the whole rock opera thing had got too big and complicated for them. I expect the lads couldn't handle it. They'd have needed someone who could bring it all together and stage it — an impresario, if that's what they call them. What they've got stashed away in the villa may be junk to me of course, but, who knows, one day someone might pay a fortune for it as band memorabilia. If you want, you can hunt through it to see what you can turn up. Teef would be pleased to see you.'

Dale and I were both so tired by the Friday evening of that week that we went to bed early. At about three o'clock in the morning, the phone rang. I woke first and answered. A flustered Handyman said he had been summoned by the manager of a night club in Soho that Quick frequented. A new relief barman was saying he needed to contact Quick urgently with a message from an old friend. The club manager was suspicious and had his bouncers search the new guy; they found pills and capsules, too many to be for his personal use. The manager had rung The Handyman straight away.

'Is this barman called Toby?' I asked.

'You admit you know him then?'

'I did mention some stuff about the Egyptian sect. I know it was stupid, but he knows nothing about me having met Quick or Teef, or about the biography.'

Mercifully The Handyman accepted this explanation calmly. He said, 'At this moment, Toby's being held in the manager's office. You understand now how dangerous it is to talk about the band to people who are not in the loop, especially if it involves Quick. To anyone dodgy it's like waving a thick wad of money in front of their eyes. Your friend Toby says he's met somebody who used to be in the sect. He claims to have an address in the States for this bird who Quick got pregnant all those years ago, but he admits there was never any message, he just made that up. He is going to have to be taught a lesson, that old mate of yours.'

'We were friends once. He doesn't know anything important, honestly. He's nobody. How did he get into the club anyway?'

'The regular Friday night barman called in sick at the last minute, said he knew someone who would cover for him. Normally they wouldn't take anyone on without checking them out thoroughly, but they were already short staffed. Toby's a crafty bastard, persuading the guy to call in sick. Trouble is, it's the crafty ones you have to watch. And he's picked the wrong time. Quick's itching to get nasty with someone. You've seen those spiked cricket pads in the cupboard. He hasn't blistered anyone's legs with them for months.'

'You could just give Toby a warning, frighten him, let him know what will happen if he tries anything again. Maybe he did have pills on him, and he might have tried to sell them, but you've caught him before he's made any real trouble.'

'You've got your job to do, writing Quick's book. My job is dealing with shits like Toby. You get back to that boyfriend of yours and leave this to me. Bye for now.'

He rang off. Dale by this time was sound asleep again. I felt worried for Toby, and guilty. We might not be boyfriends any more, but he would not be in trouble now if I had kept my mouth shut about the sect. Was Quick really going to torture him with the pads? The anxiety kept me awake for a couple of hours, but my fretting was of no help to Toby. What more could I do?

Over a week passed before I learned that The Handyman's threat had been carried out, surprisingly enough from Jake. He turned up at the Give and Take one night and came over to Dale and me to say hello. 'I know you're thinking Oh god, not him again, ' he said. 'But how would you feel about making a fresh start? See this?' He held up a half-pint of lager. 'Two of these will be my lot for tonight. No more getting totally off my head, all that is past, over and done with.'

'And you're drinking in a gay bar, ' I commented.

'Yes. Jayde and me have split up. You're the one who made me face up to being bisexual. Well, I knew all along really, just never did anything about it. The time had come for me to be honest with myself.'

'You seen anything of Toby lately?'

'Yes. He was in a terrible state the other morning. Jayde had me go up to the flat to help her with him. He'd gone to some club in Soho with his usual menu of pills, been grabbed by some heavies who blindfolded him and drove him off somewhere. He claimed they'd strapped something to his legs that gave him electric shocks. He was put in the boot of a car and driven out to Dartford, where they dumped him in the mud on the river bank. His legs were so bad he could hardly walk. He had these horrible blisters, nasty red blotches and little puncture marks, the tops of his thighs were red raw. Jayde had to go and rescue him, clean him up and bring him back home in a cab.'

'He didn't go to the police?'

'He can't, can he? He's been done for drugs before. They'd know what was behind it.'

Smiles came over to show me some leaflets about the school disco nights. There was a picture of a handsome young guy in school uniform, smiling broadly and holding out an apple. The heading was New Skewl Disco on Thrusday (sic) Nights, and under the picture it said boys in uniform get a first drink free wiv dis ad.

Dale pulled a face and said, 'The bar is fine like it is. People come in here to meet friends and talk. Why go in for this type of thing?'

'I'm trying to bring in more business, ' Smiles replied. 'No one has to dress up if they don't want to. Give it a chance, Dale, it will be good fun.'

'It's not for me, ' he answered.

Smiles looked at the floor, then at me, then back to Dale. 'Is there really a problem? Are you worried somebody might put his hand up the leg of your shorts or something? Come on Dale, you and Ben are together, everybody knows that. Let's not worry about it.'

Had something gone on between them in the past I knew nothing about? For Dale to be prickly over the school disco theme night was not like him. To break the silence I picked up one of the leaflets and said, 'I love the spelling of skewl and wiv dis ad. Clever.'

'Jake did them. He's helping me out.'

'Smiles is helping me out would be more like it. He's taken me on part time at the bar, and put me onto another part-time job selling sports trophies and medals. Since I don't have much of an employment record, it gives me a start. I'm doing some certificates for school disco nights on his computer, with a bit of artwork and fancy fonts, one for best school uniform, and one for the scruffiest. There could be others, let me know if you've got any suggestions. They'll be impressive done up in a scroll and tied with a bit of rainbow ribbon. We could give one to Smiles for being best bar manager. What do you think? Worth a go?'