Chapter 11

The next time he took me to The Rocking Boulders' villa, The Handyman promised that Rick Schwagger himself would be there. I was nervous already because the compartments in the maracas remained empty of drugs. How Rick, with his reputation for turning nasty, would react to me was even more of a worry.

Perhaps being on edge made me want to talk, for on the way I complained about the difficulty of finding information for the 'auto'biography. For once, The Handyman was sympathetic. 'Tell you the truth, ' he said, 'I never thought much of all that mumbo jumbo about astrology, tarot cards and juju beads. You were worth encouraging, not because of all that mystic twaddle, but because you cheer Teef up, and that's not easy these days. Trouble is, we can't tell Quick that, he's sold on the idea of you being psychic. When you meet him, particularly this being the first time, try not to say anything that might aggravate him. Thing to remember is that he has a very short attention span, so if you can keep chatting about a subject for maybe a minute, sometimes half a minute will do, by the time you stop, his mind will have wandered off. Doesn't guarantee he won't meander back to it, but if he does you just bluff him again till he's thinking of something else.

'In this business you have to find your way round dozens of obstacles to survive. Trying to work out what to do can make your head hurt. Doing the book, and keeping Quick and Teef happy at the same time, is not going to be easy. A good thing to mention to Quick is money, like who is going to get what percentage. Anything that might lead to a big wad of notes will have a magic effect on his powers of concentration. The thought of earning yet more cash to add to his millions will occupy him for, ooh, might be as long as two whole minutes. If you've got a few pages of notes to show him, that should keep him happy for now, but be very careful what you say to him. If he shows any sign of turning nasty, do a runner. Don't let him get between you and the door. You're not on your own, I'll try to keep things steady.'

'What do you mean by him "turning nasty"? Does he get violent?'

'Not sure if you would call it violent exactly ... Well, it is in a way. He's developed a ruthless streak. Bullying, you might call it. Or assault. Highly unlikely you'll come in for aggravation. I'm good at calming him down, but be on your guard just in case.'

His manner was calm and relaxed, despite giving this sphinx-like warning. When we arrived at the villa, quiet determination had replaced my earlier trepidation. If Quick took an instant dislike to me and kicked me out, I would be disappointed, but he was not about to decide my fate. Life with Dale and work at the bookshop would carry on as before. With luck, other opportunities would come along.

The Handyman pointed at the holdall. 'You don't usually bring anything with you. What you got in there?'

'Maracas.'

'Teef's not trying to pull the old trick of filling maracas with dope, is he? You'd better let me see.'

I took them out of the bag and said, 'The handles are hollow and you can unscrew them; there are hidden compartments at the top too. They're empty. He did ask me to fill them with gear. I said no, but he wouldn't let it go. It was useless him asking me, I've never gone in for drugs. I picked them up without thinking when I left the villa last time. You can open them up and see for yourself, if you want.'

He shook his head. 'I believe you, but see what I mean about needing to be careful? You've built Teef's hopes up now. Always tell me about problems like that, I know how to handle things.' He shook his head and sighed. 'So you've "never gone in for drugs." There seem to be a lot of things you aren't into, things we normally take for granted in this game.'

Before we entered the villa, we looked at each other, eye to eye, for a few moments. He appeared to be waiting for me to say or do something, so I walked towards him and put a friendly arm round his shoulders. He hugged me briefly and then let me go. 'All right, ' he said, 'I'll make sure you're okay. Teef does find it hard to go without his gear, but the medics say another binge will probably kill him. He can't stop himself once he starts ... if you'd seen the terrible states he's been in. Tell you what, here's a few miniature bottles of Jack Daniel's. I always have some handy in case he gets desperate. Say you managed to sneak them past me. That should soften his disappointment. Even his booze is rationed these days.'

Gratefully I put the little bottles of Teef's favourite spirit into the holdall. Previously the house had been quiet when we arrived, but now the sound of one of The Rocking Boulders' hits, Black Treacle, a number one in the nineteen-seventies, drifted into the hall:

This was obviously a recording, not Quick and Teef upstairs playing live. Not having heard the song for ages, I had forgotten how catchy it was. The raunchy vocal was brilliantly matched by Teef's edgy guitar riff. My pulse quickened as we approached the door to the upstairs lounge. The music stopped and I could hear one of the most famous voices in rock and roll say: 'Er, well, you know, to be quick, right, you know as well as I do like, well, right, quick, what I mean to say is, you know... '

Timidly I hung back, not wanting to interrupt Quick's flow of ideas, but The Handyman grabbed my arm and pulled me into the room. Sitting, legs crossed, in the middle of the floor, was Rick Schwagger. He got up as we went in. Though he and Teef were the same age, in stark contrast to the Boulders' guitarist, the skin on his face was smooth and unblemished.

'Screw me, is this him?' he said, gesturing in my direction. 'I was expecting some ink-spot type with thick glasses.' He swivelled round to face Teef. 'Take a quick shufti at this one, he looks a bloody sight better than you do, Teef. It's time you got yourself a quick lift, ' he said, patting his own deceptively youthful cheeks. He sat down.

'Nah, ' Teef replied, 'my fans are used to me like I am. Snip and tuck's not really my style, Quick.'

'Your style, Teef? Right. Give us a quick clue about what sort of style that might be? A style much loved by old age pensioners? Right. Come on, give me a quick answer. Is that what they are, your fans, these weirdos you give a quick mention to whenever I see you? Are they a bunch of pensioners, zombies and necrophiliacs? Let's ask my friends The Handyman and Bendy here what they think? Give us a quick opinion of this fan base Teef's always so keen to talk about.'

Instinctively I defended Teef: 'I'm sure all kinds of people are fans of Teef.'

The Handyman, who was standing behind Quick, looked at me in alarm. He shook his head and waved discreetly with his palm open, warning me to change tack. Quick stiffened and glared at me, then slowly and melodramatically stood up, put his hands on his hips, and pursed his lips.

'No one told me you was a lippy one, ' he said. 'What you have to understand, Mister Bendy, is that when you come here, I'm the one with the lips. Maybe, ' he continued, turning towards The Handyman, 'trying on those special cricket pads of mine for a minute or two would help Mister Bendy understand better how things are done.'

'Aw, Quick, ' said The Handyman, 'no cause to go getting out the pads. I'd hate to see you and Bendy get off to a bad start. You know how long it's took to find someone to write your 'auto'biography. He's brought a couple of pages of notes he's made ... he's managed to contact someone who remembers you from school. Show him what you've brought, Bendy.'

Quick snatched the notes from me, and while he glanced at them The Handyman mouthed the word 'percentages' at me. After about half a minute Quick gazed up at the ceiling, and Teef gave me a further hint by moving his hand in front of his mouth to encourage me to speak.

'Can I just ask how you see the percentages from the book working out?' I asked.

Quick lowered his eyes, and then glanced around as though searching the room to identify who had spoken, before setting his gaze on me. 'Who was it mentioned percentages? Was it you, Mister Bendy? That's better. This is something we need to come to an understanding about. If books are anything like music, we'll have to be quick off the mark or the middlemen will take most of the bread. Quick as a flash they are. So the author needs to make f'in' sure he maximises his return. We need a regular agent who'll get us a good deal, not some quick mover who grabs all the cash. Anyone got any ideas? If you have, quick, let's hear 'em.'

I thought Quick must have meant me when he used the word 'author', but he continued: 'Of course that's fine for me, me being the author of my 'auto'biography. What you get paid, Bendy, for using your psychic 'fluences and making the marks on paper, is something you'll have to sort out for yourself. I don't want it coming out of my share. Shouldn't be too hard for you, having your magic crystals, potions and all that sort of crap to work with. P'raps you can come to some arrangement with the publisher for your cut. You're lucky having the old sixth sense. Suppose it saves you from needing to work hard for a living like I have to.'

'That's not fair, Quick, ' Teef said. 'If Bendy's writing the book, he's the one who should have the author's share.'

Quick glanced around the room, again pretending not to know who had spoken. 'My ears must be going funny; for a minute I thought I heard Teef express an opinion. Of course he can't have. He knows perfectly well that when it's down to him an' me, I'm the one who does the vocals. Well, glad to have met you Bendy. I'll leave you to sort out contracts and all that. The Handyman will take care of my interests. Got to be going ... just time for a quick spruce up then off to a party in Mayfair. Don't suppose you get invited to many parties in Mayfair, do you Teef? No? Thought not. See you all some time ... unless, Bendy, you've got any other quick questions?'

'I was wondering when might you be able to spare some time to tell me be a bit of your life story, since essentially that is what I'm supposed to be writing.'

'Busy over the next few months. Anyway, the whole point of getting you in was that you're supposed to be gifted, so you could find everything out from your Ouija board or whatever, without taking my time up with a bloody interrogation. Probably see you next when the book's finished. Want it done quick, mind. Understand?'

With that he left the room, followed by The Handyman. Teef got up and went to the door to make sure they were out of earshot, then asked me, in a half-whisper, 'Bendy, did you bring me any gear?'

'Really sorry, Teef, but The Handyman is so suspicious. He wanted to search the holdall, and as soon as he saw the maracas he knew what they were for. I did sneak these in for you though.' I gave him the miniature bottles of Jack Daniel's.

'Oh Bendy, terrific, you're a real good mate. He took them over to the sideboard, where a quart size, but almost empty, Jack Daniel's bottle stood on a tray. He opened the miniatures in turn and emptied the contents into it. Then, so as not to waste the tiniest drop, he filled the miniatures with mineral water and replaced the tops. 'I think you've earned yourself another little music lesson. Forget the maracas, lot of good they did. This time, since we're mates now, you can have a go on one of my favourite guitars.'