D - "Chapter Two"

"FOUNTAIN"

two

" This just all sounds like total bollocks to me, " says Gateau, who is
tired, having only just finished a sod of a day, the back of his neck
sore from looking at books all afternoon. He wants nothing more than to
fall into a bath and soak and float and not have to think about the
structure and biochemistry of kidneys.

" Hang on, " says Will, " Listen to all of it, it makes sense when you
hear it all. "

" So you're going along with this are you ? "

Will shrugs, " It just seems possible, that's all. And you didn't see
those guys, they seemed very dodgy to me. Like blokes out of Taggart.
"

They are all in the living room, Portishead is on the stereo, turned
down low so that they can still talk. Deane has put "Sour Times" onto
repeat play, to add to the atmosphere. Every now and then, when there's
a pause in the conversation they can hear Beth sing, " Nobody loves me,
it's true...Nobody loves me, not like you do...".

The heavy purple curtains have been pulled and there is only the light
from the television and the stereo to brighten the room.

Deane is still pacing about the living room, waiting for Gateau to calm
down a bit before he continues with the explanation, like a Geography
teacher waiting for the balls of scrunched-up paper to stop flying. He
has put on black trousers and a white linen shirt, to give himself an
air of authority. He knows that Gateau is the one he really has to
convince. Will has a more open mind, and in any event is not such a
crucial part of the plan. Without Gateau, the whole thing falls flat on
its face.

" Right, " he says, " Let's start with the trip to India. We all know
that Matty was just as skint as the rest of us, don't we ? And we know
he never got a job in the summer, because his mum told us he hadn't.
"

Will nods, Gateau is still scowling. He helps himself to the packet of
Rich Tea while Deane speaks. The packet is next to a shoebox that Deane
has put on the coffee table for some reason.

" And I know that he didn't use his Student Loan, because he told me in
the pub. And he also told me that the holiday was free. "

" He could have won it, " says Gateau, taking a long gulp from his mug
of coffee.

" In what ? A karaoke competition ? If he'd won a holiday he'd have
rung us all to brag about it. Anyone would've. "

" That's true, " says Will, " Do you not remember when he won those
tickets to see Radiohead ? He was going on about it for weeks and it
was only in a X FM phone-in. All he had to do was be the fourteenth
caller and he was walking around all week claiming it was skill."

Will is just jealous because Matty didn't even like Radiohead and
flogged the tickets instead of giving one to Will, who is a big
fan.

" India isn't cheap, " says Deane, " It's not something people are just
gonna give away, out of the goodness of their hearts. India costs and
Matty did it without spending a penny. "

Gateau snaps a Rich Tea in half, having taken the last one from the
packet, he's listening with more of an open mind now. Deane does seem
to be presenting his case well, he's obviously been thinking about it
for quite a while.

However, that doesn't necessarily mean he's right. Deane spends a lot
of time working out the practicalities of going back in a time-machine
and what things he'd place bets on and how he would get old-fashioned
money and clothes, but that doesn't mean he's ever likely to do
it.

Deane has always been a bit of a dreamer, although one with a practical
nature; not only does he fondly imagine what he's going to spend his
lottery winnings on, he also has a letter drafted to his bank manager
requesting an eight thousand pound overdraft until the cheque from
Camelot arrives.

" Exhibit One, " says Deane theatrically, handing Gateau Matty's bank
statement, a yellow highlighter ring around the balance.

" Exhibit Two, " he says, handing over the Grant Cheque.

" So we now have, " he says, " A free trip to India, ? 2000 in a bank
account that didn't come from working, or the grant cheque, or a
student loan. This is beginning to get a bit suss. "

" It's odd, " admits Gateau, grudgingly, " But I'm not sure it adds up
to what you reckon. "

" Okay, we'll go on, " says Deane, " In the pub, Matty told me that
he'd met up with some new people, dealers. These dealers were the sort
of dealers who could cut Dermot's prices in half. "

" So ? "

" So, " says Deane, " Dealers who work in bulk, dealers who don't fuck
about. Serious dealers in other words. The sort of dealers who might
pay someone a lot of money to go to India if that someone would bring
back the right sort of thing for them. "

" That's a big leap, " Gateau complains.

" This is fine, " says Deane, " You've got to remember, I've been
putting this together for a couple of days now, it's bound to sound a
bit iffy to you, hearing it for the first time. The next thing is, the
trip Matty made to the chemist before he died. Exhibit Three. "

He lifts the Boots bag out of the shoebox and passes it to Gateau, who
takes a quick look inside.

" Laxatives ? So what ? "

" How many people do you know Jamie, who come back from India
constipated ?" asks Deane pithily.

" That's all a bit circumstantial isn't it ? "

" Not just that, " continues Deane, " Look inside the bag again and
you'll see a pair of plastic gloves. "

" Yuck, " says Will, realising this time what the gloves were to be
used for, " I didn't get that first time around. "

" Exhibit Four, " says Deane handing over Matty's passport, which he
has taken from the shoebox. All that's left in the shoebox now is
Gateau's copy of Trainspotting, with a few yellow Post-It notes
sticking out of the pages towards the back of the book.

" So what ? " says Gateau again, " It's just Matty's passport. "

" And how long exactly, " asks Deane, " Has Matty's name been Kevin
John Fisher? "

Gateau has another look at the passport, " This isn't a forgery though,
is it Deane ?"

" I don't think so, " says Deane, dropping his courtroom voice, " I
reckon it's quite difficult to fake a passport. I would think they
probably just applied for one, like in Day of the Jackal. "

" What ? " asks Will, " You've completely lost me. "

" Day of the Jackal, " says Gateau, " You must have read Day of the
Jackal?"

" You're wasting your time, " says Deane, " He doesn't read books,
unless they're about a boy and his love for a kestrel. Well, what do
you think ? "

Gateau takes a deep breath, " There comes a time, I think, when you've
got to stop being Dana Scully and believe what's in front of you. It's
all a bit harsh though. "

Deane cheers inwardly, convincing Gateau that his theory is right, that
Matty's corpse is likely to have a high street value is the first and
perhaps most difficult part of his plan. He feels drained, not up to
presenting the rest of his case yet, he needs some air and some sugar,
maybe a little smoke to set the mood.
" You haven't heard the second phase yet, " says Deane, " But for that,
I think we need some smoke. I'm off to Dermot's. D'you want me to get
any munchies on the way back ? "

* * * *

Deane knocks on Dermot's door and it is opened by a young bloke called
Jass, who has the surf-guy look, sun-blonde hair and baggy jeans and
although white was given an African-sounding name by his parents, who
were presumably either into Bob Marley or UB40; Deane hopes for Jass'
sake that it was Bob Marley. Deane is always sympathetic towards people
who have been saddled with odd names by their parents and he has always
found Jass to be a sound bloke, very well-informed on UFO's and The
Monkees.

" Alright ? " says Deane, " I've come round for Dermot."

" Alright Deane, come on in. "

As Deane enters the house he can hear the music, the unmistakeable
sound of vinyl being played; something old by Sinatra. " Three coins in
a fountain, " sings the old pro.

Dermot's front room is very red, all of the walls, the ceiling, the
carpet, the sofa are all a blend of crimsons, scarlets and pale pinks.
The colour scheme is also duplicated in the bathroom and there have
been many times when Deane has thrown up in the ruby toilet and been
very horrified by the red bathtub.

Nobody really knows the reasoning behind this frankly offensive
colouring - Deane tries to spend as much time as possible in the
kitchen, which by way of stark contrast is minimally white and chrome;
very calming and almost dreamlike. Matty always used to speculate that
the bedrooms would all be in blue, but they have never found this
out.

Dermot uses time very much as a colour in the house, everything in the
room is from varying periods, ranging from Forties radios and Art Deco
posters to the early Eighties video and Sixties television that comes
in a little walnut cabinet with doors that swing open; a Newtons
Cradle, a Lava Lamp, a glass cabinet full of Rubik's cubes and
Whipp-Pett Barrels.

Dermot himself is a real "best in small doses" person, if Deane is
really in the mood he quite enjoys spending time with him, but on other
occasions nearly everything Dermot does annoys him. Sometimes Deane
realises that the things he really doesn't like about Dermot are the
things that he hopes people like about him.

For example...

" A phrase only girls use that you really hate ? " barks Dermot, who is
wearing tight plum coloured velvet trousers and a shiny white
T-shirt.

" Hunky, " says Jass.

" Poor, " criticises Dermot, smoothing a hand over his hair, which is
so glossy, shiny and Donny Osmond it doesn't look real, very man-made
fibre, " Deane-a-reeno ?"

" Smellies, " says Deane, " If a girl gets or buys some talcum powder
and some shower-gel for a present, she'll call them smellies, and I
really hate that. I can only connect smelly with a bad smell, like
football socks or old sandwiches. "

" The winner and still undisputed heavy-weight champion of the room, "
yells Dermot, " Deane The Mean Menzies ! "

Deane coughs politely, to let Dermot know that he is wanting to move
the situation on a bit, then speaks, " Sorry to rush you Dermot, but
we've got a video out, you know, keen to watch it. "

" What film ? " asks Dermot.

" El Cid, " says Deane easily, " Just the second half like, it's too
much in one go."

" Good film, " says Dermot, " Not as good as Planet of the Apes, but
few are. How much d'you want then ? "

" A teenth ? "

" No problem, " says Dermot, leaving the kitchen to fetch the
stuff.

He comes back with the stuff, in a small transparent plastic bag with
one of those seals that pop shut; Deane hands over the money and stows
the hash away in his pocket.

" You couldn't put on the video for a second could you ? " asks
Deane.

" Sure, " says Dermot, beaming, " Which one ? "

" The Italian Job I think, " says Deane.

" Good choice, good choice. "

Dermot has painstakingly collected over a long period, snippets from
all of his favourite films onto one three hour tape, just one short
sequence from each film which he feels sums up the essence of the film.
Matty again used to suspect that upstairs in the blue bedroom Dermot
had a lot of very high-tec Nineties equipment that he would never have
put in his front-room that he edited these videos on.

Dermot's real passion is videos and particularly the Golden Age of
video's when they were first coming into existence. His eyes always
sparkle as he talks about the Golden Age, as championed by films like
"Halloween", "The Shining" and "Kramer vs Kramer".

Dermot has a collection of video catalogues, from the very early age of
videos when the choice was so limited, they could print catalogues
telling you all the ones you could get, not just titles but little
pack-shots and short descriptions too.

Dermot is the only person Deane knows who rates Porkys as one of the
finest comedies ever made. He watches it for the dialogue, not just the
shower scene. He can almost weep when he talks about the way you used
to be able to rent videos still in the box, so you could walk home
reading the back of the box and build up anticipation as to what the
film might be like. Now you get shown the box in the store but they
give you a dull generic box to take away. It breaks Dermot's
heart.

Dermot slots the tape into the video which eats it up with a grinding
clunking noise, he switches on the television which takes a few seconds
to warm up. There's no remote for either the TV or the video, so Dermot
has to crouch on the floor by the video to get it all keyed up. There's
no fast-forward search on the video either, so he has to just keep
fast-forwarding and then pressing down the silver peg that juts out
about an inch and a half from the video that works the Play
button.

All of the controls are these silver peg things, and they have to be
pressed down with some force to work. This is a delight for Dermot, who
doesn't approve of the way modern videos make it too easy for people,
cutting down on the interaction between man and machine.

Michael Caine eventually comes on the screen in herringbone black and
white and there's an almighty bang. " You're only supposed to blow the
bloody doors off ! "

" Cracking, " says Deane.

* * * *

Deane comes in with a generic white carrier bag, filled with junk food
from the garage. Deane and Gateau do nearly all their shopping at
garages, in common with most people they know. Will often shops at the
garage but every now and then he lashes out and shops at Marks &;
Spencer, eating top quality bacon and cooking pork in Mascarpone sauce
for a week, before returning to toast and crisps.

Deane throws out bars of chocolate and packets of Fruit Pastilles to
Gateau and Will, keeping a running commentary going the whole
time.

" Turkish Delight, that's for you Will you ponce. What's wrong with
Twix or Lion Bar eh ? "

" Cornish Pasty with Tikka filling, that's yours Jamie. "

" Can of Cherry Coke. Oh, I wonder who that could be for. Will, you're
the only bloody person I've ever met who drinks fucking Cherry Coke.
It's vile. Christ knows how they keep going. The whole regular Coke
empire is just subsidising the money-pit that is Cherry Coke. People
liked it for about three months and then went off it, but Coke just
never realised. Who buys the bloody stuff ? "

" Cool blue Doritos - those are yours Jamie. "

" Hey, " says Will, " Didn't you get any crisps for me ? "

" Doritos aren't crisps, " hisses Deane, very seriously, " They're
chips, tortilla chips. "

" But you know I like crisps, " complains Will, grinning at Gateau,
they both know the effect this will have on Deane.

" Fucking crisps, " shouts Deane, " Everyone goes on and on about
crisps, they're just bloody slices of potato you know, they're nothing
special. Buy your own fucking crisps, Mr Cherry-Fucking-Coke. "

Deane took a year out after finishing in the Sixth Form and spent it
working in a Smiths crisps factory. He still has shuddery nightmares
about the ghastly smell of the place, and hasn't gone near a bag of
crisps since.

He calms down, " Sherbet Dib-Dab for Will, a Sherbet Fountain for Jamie
and me. "

"Cracking, " says Will, ripping open the paper packet and dipping the
red lolly into the powder, before noisily licking it off.

" And last, but by no means least, " declares Deane, producing a pack
of cigarettes and some orange Rizlas, " Hash a la Deane. "

He slits open one of the cigarettes and takes out a few pinches of
tobacco, laying it on a Rizla paper and crumbling the cube of hash over
it, to get the right blend.

" We need a roach, " says Jamie.

" Tube ticket, " says Will, producing one from his jeans pocket, "
Perfectly designed. A triumph for British Rail. "

The joint is lit and Deane takes the first drag, breathing in slowly
before passing it on to Jamie. Will has almost finished his Sherbet
Dib-Dab.

" So, what about this second phase then ? " asks Jamie, who takes a
drag very gingerly. As he doesn't ordinarily smoke, he finds that
sometimes the smoke hurts his throat.

" Wait till you've finished with that, " says Deane.

Jamie takes another quick pinch at the joint and passes it over to
Will. Deane crosses over to the coffee table and picks up the copy of
Trainspotting from the shoebox. There are some pages marked with yellow
Post-it Notes.

" Ow ! " says Will, " Hot rock ! ". He quickly brushes it off his
jeans, checking to make sure it hadn't burnt a hole. He has lost track
of how many shirts he has singed that way. He remembers the time Matty
dropped a hot rock down the back of the sofa and they had to pull off
all the cushions. It had burnt a hole right through, just like the acid
blood in Aliens burnt through four layers of metal flooring. The four
of them had been crouched round the sofa, with nervous tumblers of
water in case the whole sofa went up.

" We agreed earlier that Matty had been smuggling drugs in from India,
having swallowed them inside condoms, right ? Well, he never delivered
the drugs to his buyers, which we know because they came round here
looking for it. Okay, next. The logical conclusion from that is that he
never, ah, completed his side of the transaction. "

" Oh, " says Will, catching on quickly, " You mean..."

" That those drugs are still inside him, " grins Deane, " They never
came out, so they're still inside him. "

" So what ? " yawns Jamie, who has taken the joint back from Will,
Deane talking so much that he missed his turn.

Deane flips open the book at the first of the marked pages, " Well, I'm
not sure what sort of drugs they are, it must be either heroin or
cocaine and I'm going to guess heroin, because India is pretty close to
Pakistan. We also don't know how much of it Matty swallowed, but here
are some ballpark figures. It says in Trainspotting that a kilo of
heroin can be flogged to a dealer for between sixteen and twenty
thousand and on the street is worth sixty thousand."

" But you don't know that Matty swallowed a kilo, that sounds like a
hell of a lot, " complains Jamie, still holding onto the joint.

" That's true, " says Deane, " But do the maths. Half a kilo is worth
eight thousand to a dealer, thirty thousand on the street, a quarter of
a kilo is worth four thousand and fifteen thousand on the street.
"

Will gives out a low whistle, " That's a lot of money. "

" If they paid him two thousand for bringing it, plus expenses, I'd say
it was probably nearer to half a kilo, " says Jamie, who has worked it
all out fairly quickly, " But it's all a bit academic, isn't it ?
"

" Not really, " says Deane, taking the joint out of Gateau's hand and
taking a deep drag on it, " You see, I propose that we go and get those
condoms and make a packet out of it. "

And with that, Deane opens his Sherbet Fountain with a flourish.