— What I get is that I see things.
— Really?
— Not like, I don’t mean I hallucinate. Well I do actually don’t I? Like you. But it’s just peripheral, corner of the eye stuff, movements. Most of the time, like you, I know what it is. I know I’m off my tits and it doesn’t bother me. But occasionally . . . He laughed
— Occasionally I’ll swear I’ve seen a mouse or a rat or some other nasty. Most of the time it’s just a flinch and that’s that. Sometimes though I’ve been convinced. Not in a while now. The weed keeps me sensible.
— Peripheral.
— Peripheral.
— Peripheral vermin.
— Peripheral vermin. Exactly. What a nonsense it all is. Such a lot of nonsense my god what on earth are we doing?
— We’re having fun Frank.
— Is that what it is?
— I like to think of it as taking things to their logical conclusion.
He leaned over and kissed Frank for a while, and they touched each other’s bodies, running their hands over their torsos.
— What do you mean?
— What do I mean what?
— You said something about logical. About logical. Conclusions.
— I have no idea.
— Oh Tommy.
— Oh no, I know. I know what I meant.
— Oh good.
— Taking T is like, it’s a rational response to the world. To the stress of work and money and London and everything. People constantly. It’s like, ok, you want me to have this ridiculously complicated life of managing a million things at once while you exploit and deride me and abuse me, well fine, I’ll take something that makes me feel comfortable with that level of complexity, that amount of shit that I have to stress about, you know, like work, like paying the rent. You. People work in these jobs. They work in these ridiculous jobs. I know someone who works in advertising for fuck’s sake. I know someone who cleans the trains out in some fucking . . . out in Cricklewood. I mean what even is that? Cricklewood? What does that even mean? It sounds like a kids’ cartoon show, you know, with cute animal characters. But. Anyway. What was? Oh yeah. I know a guy drives a bus. I know someone who is a junior doctor, and even they, especially they, you know, when you wouldn’t think . . . just trying not to get absolutely fucked over every hour of every fucking day. Practically suicidal with it. You know? What am I talking about?
Frank shook his head, smiling.
— I don’t know love, you’re far too high. I can’t even see you.
They laughed.
Much later they decided to go to Sammy’s. Tommy felt that he would rather stay put, that outside was a level of unthinkable and that he didn’t have it in him. But he also knew that he had to go there to get his phone and his wallet and that he should follow Frank’s lead. Frank was messaging men on his laptop.
— Will we get someone over?
— It’s up to you.
— What time is it? Oh it’s nearly three o’clock. How are you feeling?
— I’m good. We need to go to Sammy’s at some stage though.
— We don’t really love, we could stay here. We’ve everything we need. Get someone else over if we fancy.
— My phone. And my
— Oh your wallet, yes, and your phone. Well, let’s get an Uber. We’ll get an Uber over there and maybe. There’s this one, look, will I invite him?
— To Sammy’s?
— Oh you’re right. I can’t invite him there it’s against the rules.
— You could ask Sammy when we get there.
— Yes you’re right. We’ll get an Uber. Let me see.
He was still looking at his laptop. They were both naked. Tommy put his arm on Frank’s back. Kissed his shoulder. He wanted another body to occupy his own. Something to be in. Maybe he was cold. Frank coughed and his chest rattled like a piggy bank.
— Ah Frank.
— Will we ask this one?
— You’re doing the thing.
Frank said nothing.
— Frank.
Nothing.
— Frank!
— What?
— You’re doing the thing.
— What thing?
Tommy gestured at the laptop.
— You’re in there.
He was still looking at the screen. He looked at Tommy.
— Where?
— There.
He licked his lips.
— Oh god I am amn’t I? I’m sorry love.
He looked suddenly worried.
— Fuck. I always do this. Right. Right. What. Tell me something. Give me a purpose. I need some
— Let’s go to Sammy’s. Let’s get dressed. Get our stuff together. Go to Sammy’s.
— Right. You’re right.
— What do you need?
— Well I need to get my stuff together.
— Let’s get dressed. Let’s get you dressed. Let’s organise that one first.
— You’re right. It’s the thoroughness. I get very thorough. I need to be pointed at something. I’m an old fool. Good god. I could sit here for days and just not really notice. Have we had enough sex do you think? I’m not sure we have Tommy.
— We can have more at Sammy’s.
— All right then.
— What do you want to wear?
— Come with me. Wardrobe. You can choose. It’ll be fun. I can never decide what to wear. Are we . . . we’re getting an Uber so it doesn’t really matter does it?
It didn’t take long to get dressed. By seven o’clock they were ready. Frank had wrapped his pipe in toilet paper and put it and his little bags of T and his bottle of G and his measure into a sort of pouch that he stuck into his jockstrap. Tommy worried that the pipe would break, but Frank told him that this was the way he always did it and that it would be fine. And he had a shoulder bag too, in which he had a change of clothes because of the sweat, and he had his weed and his headphones and a couple of toys he liked, and he also had a slice of carrot cake wrapped in cling film for Sammy, because Sammy liked this particular carrot cake which came from a cake shop in Battersea that Frank sometimes made a special journey to, because of his sweet tooth.
At the door, out in the air, Tommy felt suddenly anxious, afraid of several things that he could not quite identify. He was about to say to Frank not to close the door, that he’d left his phone inside, but then he remembered. What if Sammy had fallen asleep? Thrown everyone out and fallen asleep? What it someone had done something stupid and the cops had come? Why had he left his phone there? Why had he even had his wallet with him?
He looked over the balcony outside Frank’s front door.
— What floor are we on?
— Fourth.
Frank seemed tense.
— Are we ok?
Frank was standing beside him.
— Let’s just wait here a minute or two and be sure. We can go back in and wait if this feels too much like
— We shouldn’t have had that last hit.
Tommy laughed.
— What are we like?
After a minute of peering over the balcony and watching a group of boys come from the direction of the park towards the stairwell they went back inside, Frank fumbling with the keys and laughing while Tommy stood at his shoulder telling him to hurry up, that the boys were after them, that the boys would throw them off the balcony, and Frank was laughing but also he was fumbling with the key, and Tommy half believed that they were about to die, or that he was about to die, to be killed, and that the police would find no ID on him, and that because of that he would be buried in an unmarked grave, and people that he loved would never find him. But that’s not how it works, and that wasn’t what happened.
When they were back inside Frank
made them sandwiches and a pot of tea. They drank the tea but the sandwiches just sat there. They talked about dying, and about travelling to South America, and about languages and how Frank spoke pretty good Spanish, and then about how he was the only actual English person, pretty much, that Tommy had spent any time with lately.
— Oh. Sammy of course, said Tommy, and they both laughed.
— My god how could we forget.
Duncan, said Tommy. I forgot Duncan as well.
— Oh yes, you like him.
— Do you not?
— Oh we’ve just never . . . maybe we’re too alike. He annoys me to be honest. Always just a touch too loud, too pushy. Never stops talking my god.
— Yeah.
— But he has a lovely cock.
— Does he?
— Doesn’t he?
— Well yes he does, but I thought you were a bit of a size queen to be honest.
— I am.
— Well then.
— Does he not? Duncan? Duncan with the grey hair and the laugh?
— Yes.
— Short, neat guy?
— Yes. You know him. I know you know him.
— Does he not have a big cock?
— Not especially. Average, you know. My size sort of thing.
— Would you credit it I’ve got someone else’s cock and I’ve given it to Duncan. What cock am I thinking of?
And they thought that was very funny.
— Do you not mind heights?
Frank just looked at him.
— You’re quite high up here.
— No I don’t think so. Compared to some. Been here nearly twenty years now. Very lucky really. Good old Maggie.
— Gary, as well, said Tommy.
— What?
— Is English.
— Gary. Yes. No. Irish.
— What? No. He’s from around here. Over there.
— We’re thinking of different Garys.
— I think we’re thinking of different Duncans as well. You sort of forget about the height after a while. I was going to say that you sort of forget about how high you are after a while but that’s a different thing. Also true though. A different truth.
— You’ve lost me now.
— I have lost myself.
Tommy was looking out the window. He couldn’t see any people in any of the windows in the block opposite. Then he saw a woman sitting in a living room eating something. A bag of crisps or a piece of fruit or something like that.
— Jesus, said Tommy.
— What is it love?
— I have things I need to be doing. I have . . . obligations. There’s just the two of us. I mean, what are we doing? We’re not doing anything, are we? We should. I should be. I have things that I need to do. I have things. I should never have left my phone. I’m not. This is not. This is not interesting. It’s not on Frank. I’m against this.
— Against what darling?
Tommy looked around the room.
— Just, this. All of this.
It was panic that he felt. A familiar rising panic. He told Frank about it, and Frank rolled a joint and they smoked it together and Tommy calmed down and everything was all right.
In the Uber the driver was quite chatty. Frank seemed able to handle that, so Tommy didn’t say anything. He just slouched down in his seat and looked out at the streets. They were inexplicable, the streets. He had walked to Frank’s. The idea terrified him now.
— I have a family gathering later this evening. So I work for another hour or . . . yes, another hour, and then I will go to my brother’s house.
— Is it a birthday?
— No. It is not for anything in particular. Well, my niece has graduated and so we will celebrate that of course.
— Oh good for her. What did she graduate as? In?
— She got a degree in psychology.
— Oh very good, that’s very good.
— Yes it is. She is very talented I think. She will go now and perhaps do some more study so that she can practise.
— She wants to be a psychologist.
— Yes she does.
— Better watch out. Don’t answer any questions!
The driver laughed.
— Is this bad traffic? asked Tommy. We haven’t moved. Have we moved?
— We’re in the same place.
— It’s not so bad, said the driver. We’re nearly there.
— My niece now is going for law. More brains in her than in the whole rest of the family she has, my god, I can’t keep up with her at all.
He turned to Tommy and lowered his voice.
— We’re in the same place.
— Will it be a happy gathering? Tommy asked the driver. I mean, your family gathering. Because some aren’t, necessarily, you know.
— Oh yes. We are a very happy family.
— Oh that’s marvellous, said Frank.
— Happiness is lovely to come across, Tommy said. You burst into it, you know, like you’re crawling in a tunnel and suddenly it opens out into this wonderful great space. Cavers talk about it, you know, people who, what are they called, they go down into the deep deep cave systems, tiny little tunnels barely the width of their bodies and they have to squeeze through, pressed down by all that rock, it terrifies me, even the thought of it, a mile of rock pressing down on your back, and under your belly there’s nothing but the earth, ha, the whole earth, the whole planet, all the way down, all through the fire and you are pressed against it, and there is nothing, there is nothing at all between you and nothing, because you touch all the sides of this space, and sometimes it is actually literally like that, you know, not only are they crawling, or actually sort of dragging themselves, shuffling, through what is effectively a tube, because we think of these tunnels pressing on the back and the belly but they press on the sides of the body as well, so often they will have their arms straight out ahead of themselves and they will operate like climbers operate, finding handholds, grips, by which they can pull themselves forward, pull themselves through, inch by inch, and if they’re lucky there is enough room for them to bend their legs and find a toehold and push themselves forward as well, because every part of them, every part of their body, from their shoulders to their hips, is pressed into the earth, pressed by the earth, they are buried in it, embedded, you know? and they usually have a rope tied to one foot, their left probably, in case they become stuck and they can be pulled back, and this must always be in their minds, this idea of just getting stuck, of pushing forwards and kicking forward, and feeling perhaps their shoulders or their hips simply sticking, jamming, like a piece of wood you stick in a wall or something, or maybe even their head, they misjudge the gap in front of them and they push maybe with their leg, maybe they have a good toehold for once so they dig their foot in there and they give themselves a decent shove forwards, but they’ve misjudged the gap, and it’s their head that gets stuck, gets jammed, think of the terror of that, for me anyway, that would be so completely terrifying, that you cannot, your neck cannot move your head, you cannot, you can’t look any way other than the way you happen to be facing, you cannot move, your head is in a vice, and the vice is the planet, imagine that, imagine the terror of that my god, though of course these people who do this, these cave crawlers in the dark, they don’t feel anything like that, it’s a minor inconvenience for them, for one thing it’s not their head it’s their helmet that’s stuck, they don’t do this sort of thing without helmets and all the safety equipment that they need, they’re not stupid, this isn’t some sort of weird death drive that makes them do this, and if they get their helmet stuck they just ease themselves out of it briefly, maybe shuffle backwards a little, and they ease themselves out of their helmet so that it’s stuck there, a piece of hard shaped plastic stuck in the planet like
a piece of wood stuck in a wall, like the point of a nail driven into the wall is one way of thinking about it, and they push back so that they can get a better grip of their helmet and yank it out and maybe that means they have to go back, that that particular tunnel is just too small, too narrow, too constricted, so maybe they go back, or maybe if it’s safe they chisel away at the little bit of rock that’s blocking the way because sometimes it isn’t that the tunnel is narrowing, it’s just that there is an obstacle there, and they can remove it, or get past it somehow, or maybe their helmet doesn’t get stuck, maybe the tunnel is incredibly narrow but they can get through it, and they probably have torn clothes, ripped clothes, and fingers that are ripped and legs that are cut and ripped as well, and they probably have bruises on their arms and their legs, blood may be running from wounds on their back, from wounds on their chest, they may be covered in sweat even if it’s cold down there, even if it’s in the dark cold depths, so deep that they are steaming, they give off a steam of heat and exertion, and they pull and push and bleed and then suddenly the tunnel bursts open into a huge and beautiful cavern like a train station, like a cathedral, like a city under the ground, a huge empty beautiful space, and they burst onto this suddenly, with a beautiful shock, and something which they had forgotten, something which maybe in their spirit they had forgotten, space and simple freedom, something which, no matter how professional and apparently fearless these people are, don’t tell me they would not have begun, in those tunnels no bigger than themselves, don’t tell me that they wouldn’t have begun to suspect that there was nothing other than themselves, nothing else at all, and suddenly, with a gasp, with a loud gasp of pure amazement they would see, as if creation itself had happened again, as if the big bang had happened again, suddenly this expansion, this huge and sudden rushing apart of matter, and they would be in a new world, a new universe, in which they can see for millions of miles, millions of miles, not miles, for a long way, over rocks and cliffs and streams and lakes, a whole amazing openness, in which they can breathe, where they can look and keep looking, in which they can rest, and stop moving.
The taxi turned left between oncoming cars and there was a pleasant roll to the movement and Tommy rolled into Frank and Frank rolled with him. Just a little.
— Yes, it is, said Frank. But Tommy didn’t know what was, didn’t know what he meant. The driver looked in the mirror at Tommy. Tommy looked away.
A Shock Page 9