I
RODE THE
lift down to the ground floor, feeling as if I was returning to earth in more than one sense. Numbers floated around in my head like butterflies.
“Ah, Mr Sinfield! Your uncle asked me to let you know that he will be working late tonight. He hopes to see you at dinner later on, back at the Poison Yews.” The words were spoken by a beribbonned commissionaire in a scarlet peaked cap. He leant closer and elbowed me in the side.
“He also suggested that a young man earning his first wages would probably wish to celebrate.” He winked conspiratorially. “A glass of beer, perhaps in the company of a young woman?”
I nodded, understanding. Bill. I was being reminded to visit Bill.
I left Angel Tower and found myself out under a yellow and pink sky once more. It felt so good to see the daylight. I followed the stream of dark men flowing back down the street towards the station, noting the men in suits who sat begging by the side of the road. There seemed to be more than there had been this morning.
I made it to the railway station and climbed to the platform. The silver rails were silent, and my eye was drawn to the posters and adverts by my side. Each bore the same title in a sans serif font.
Explore Dream London.
The posters showed stylised pictures in bright colours, reminiscent of London Underground adverts from the 1920s and 30s. They showed scenes from around the city, each accompanied by a caption.
Bathing in the River:
the accompanying picture looked like something Seurat might have painted; men, women and children in long striped bathing costumes splashing in the blue water of the Thames by a yellow beach. On the opposite bank, scarlet vines writhed their way into the water from a yellow spotted factory.
The Flower Market:
there was no way of misjudging the look the mother and father were giving each other as they held each other’s hands in the middle of the riot of blooms. Their son and daughter innocently plaited daisy chains around each other’s necks.
Snakes and Ladders Square:
the artist had drawn the ladders in harsh perspective. A red and black serpent was reaching to eat the young lady who stood on the next square, a drink in her hand.
Look into the Unknown:
the picture showed the Spiral, and I was peering closer at the detail in the centre when I was distracted by a round of applause.
A young man with a white painted face assumed a declamatory position on the opposite platform, one velvet-sleeved arm held high, a lace cuff drooping from his wrist.
“Oh Gentlemen, I am sad!” he announced.
There was more applause, and a few
awwws.
“For my love does not know my name! She is the dawn and the sunset to me, she is the sweet and the savoury, the laughter and the melancholy, and yet she looks at me as if I were naught but a stranger!”
More applause.
“I weep, gentlemen, I weep!” He produced a large white handkerchief and gently dabbed his eye.
My train arrived, green as an alligator, humming with electricity. The train was full, so I was surprised to find an empty seat opposite a woman carrying a basket. I slumped into it, suddenly tired. I should have recognised that feeling, I should have realised I had been caught by one of the Daddio’s chair traps, but I was too distracted by the singing coming from the woman’s basket.
“What on Earth have you got in there, madam?” I asked.
“It’s my little Sammy. She gets nervous when she’s travelling.”
Evil yellow cat eyes stared at me from the basket. I looked away, fumbled in my pocket. My hand touched the fortune scroll that Christine had given me, and I pulled it out.
You will meet a Stranger
You will be offered a job
You will be offered a second job
Go to the inn to meet a friend, one who will betray you
Go to the docks and meet your greatest friend, the one you will betray
Count the colours in the numbers, count the numbers in the words
That was new. A thought occurred to me. Why did I never read the whole of the prophecy? Why did something always distract me from going on? I resolved to do so now.
“Hello, Captain.”
I recognised that voice.
“Hello, Honey Peppers.”
I rolled up the scroll and replaced it in my pocket. I would read it when I’d finished speaking to the psychotic little girl.
Honey Peppers stared at the man sitting by me.
“I’m sorry,” he said, panic-struck, and got up and left. Honey Peppers sat herself down at my side. She was holding a balloon with the words
Dream London Zoo
written on it. A woman in a dove grey uniform sat down in a suddenly vacant seat opposite, next to the lady with the cat.
“I need to speak to Captain Wedderburn, Nanny,” said Honey Peppers, shaking her golden curls. “You may read your book.”
The nanny nodded and took out a slim volume of poetry and a handkerchief. She dabbed her eyes as she read.
Honey Peppers tilted her head and gazed at me.
“Now, Captain Wedderburn. The Daddio isn’t happy with you.”
“Not happy with me?” I asked, all innocence. “Why ever not? Aren’t I looking after his Moston girls, like he told me to?”
“He told you to have nothing to do with the Cartel.”
“What makes you think I have anything to do with the Cartel?”
She frowned at me.
“Don’t you know that it’s naughty to lie, Captain Wedderburn?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever actually lied to you, Honey Peppers.”
I saw the two eyes in her tongue looking out from her mouth at me.
“You realise,” said Honey Peppers, “that if I found out that you had deliberately lied to me, I would have you taken to Dream London Zoo to be fucked by the manatees?”
Nanny looked up from her book.
“I think you mean the mandrills, dear. They’re monkeys. The manatees are like big seals.”
Something dark crossed Honey Peppers’ face.
“Don’t contradict me, Nanny. I know what I mean. If I say I’ll have him fucked by the manatees, then I’ll have him fucked by the manatees.”
Honey turned back to me.
“Where did you go to last night?”
“Where did I go last night? I went to bed.”
“
Where
did you go to bed? I know it wasn’t at your flat. The Daddio sent the Greedy Quantifier around there to check up on you. There was some big orange frog sleeping in your bed. It took the Greedy Quantifier forever to wake him up. After he did he couldn’t get him to shut up.”
“You must mean my friend, Mr Monagan?” I said. “He is chatty, isn’t he? Heart in the right place though. He’s working for me now. Working for us, I should say, looking after the Daddio’s Moston girls. Do you realise what effect they have on normal men?”
Honey Peppers’ eyes widened in exasperation. She stamped her foot in annoyance.
“Why do you think the Daddio had them imported? To do the laundry? The Daddio will make a fortune pimping those whores out.”
The train was curving around a bend lined with swaying green willows. Long leaves dipped down in the water of a stream.
“Are we passing through a park?” I said, but with a
flick
we plunged into a tunnel and emerged back into a tangle of red brick streets.
“Never mind the parks, Captain Wedderburn. The Daddio isn’t planning on moving into them. He’s got his eyes on other things. Now, I want to know, where did you go last night?”
“You’ll have heard of my reputation, Honey Peppers. Last night I had dinner with a seventeen-year-old girl. Does that answer your question?”
She stared at me with clear blue eyes.
“I can tell when you’re lying, Captain Wedderburn.”
“Am I lying at the moment, Honey Peppers?” I raised my eyebrows and gave her the hurt little boy look that usually works so well on women. “Well, am I?”
She frowned.
“I suppose not,” she said, petulantly. “But there’s a cloak around wherever it is you went.”
“A lot of the places I frequent like to be discreet,” I said, with perfect accuracy.
Honey Peppers clenched her little fists together. She was angry with me, but couldn’t actually catch me out. And she knew I knew it. I tried to ease the situation.
“Listen, Honey Peppers, I currently have the Daddio’s Moston girls living at Belltower End. I’m following the Daddio’s wishes. I don’t think that I deserve to be threatened.”
“It’s not for you to decide what you deserve, Captain Wedderburn. Can I make this perfectly clear? The Daddio is not happy with you. If you return to the City to work tomorrow, then the Daddio will be unhappy. Very unhappy. So unhappy, it will make being fucked in Dream London Zoo by each of the animals in turn a positive pleasure.”
“You mean you think it wouldn’t be?” I said, brightly.
“You have been warned, Captain.” She looked startled. “What was that?”
I didn’t know what she meant. The lady opposite, who had been listening to Honey Peppers’ language with barely contained disbelief, spoke up.
“Oh, I’m sorry. That was my Sammy. He doesn’t like to travel.”
Honey Peppers put her hand to her mouth. She had turned white.
“Put your book away, Nanny,” she mumbled.
“Oh, but it’s so sad! Poor Lavinia will never find love...”
“Put that sentimental bullshit away!” said Honey Peppers, her voice quite shrill. “We’re getting off here. It’s our stop!”
I
RODE THE
train back to the Egg Market, staring through the window as I put my thoughts in order.
I had lost control of the situation, that was certain. Two days ago I had been Captain Wedderburn, rogue and entrepreneur, a man who answered to no one. Now I seemed to be working for two sets of people. Three, if you counted Bill and the Americans as separate.
As the train ran into Egg Market Station I found myself wondering who I was. It’s always easier to see the faults in other people. It always was. But Dream London played with the mind, it kept you looking away from yourself. Had I changed? Not as much as others, I was sure. Dream London operated best on the weak, the indecisive, the foolish, the pretentious. I was none of those things. But had I changed? What would the Captain Wedderburn of old have done in this situation, I wondered?
I knew the answer right away: Take the money and run.
But there was nowhere to run to in Dream London.
The train halted, and I joined the other businessmen in descending the stairs. They flowed around the plum-coloured obstruction at the base of the stairs without pause, and I felt my spirits sink even further. Was I just paranoid, or was everyone taking an interest in Captain Wedderburn today?
“Captain Wedderburn!”
“Miss Elizabeth Baines,” I replied.
“Captain,” she began, somewhat hesitantly, “I hope you don’t think this forward, but we are supposed to be having a meal together at the Tiger Tea House...”
“I’m sorry Elizabeth, but I don’t have time. I’m going to the brothel, you see.”
“Good for you, sir,” called out a passing gentleman with a red nose.
She fixed me with a steely gaze.
“Captain. I can assure you, there’s no need...”
“Oh there is,” I said. “The urge is upon me.”
She became quite businesslike.
“What I mean to say is... you’re my one true love. I know that, the scroll said so. I trust you, Captain. I believe in you. So, well, what I’m saying is, why should we wait...?”
That was enough to stop me in my tracks.
“You’re saying you would sleep with me?”
“I wouldn’t put it so crudely...”
“As if that was something special.”
“I’m offering you my virginity, Captain.”
That floored me. Something about the expression that crossed her innocent face touched me, much more than the offer she had just made.
“Elizabeth, listen to me. I don’t know who sold you that thing, but you’ve been rigged. I’m not the sort of person that you want anything to do with, trust me on this! You really don’t want to be associated with me. Take my advice, Miss Elizabeth Baines, and take this scroll back to wherever you bought it from and have them exchange it for someone else. Do you understand?”
She blinked rapidly as I spoke, and I could see the little glistening hemispheres forming at the edge of her eyes. Unusually, I felt quite sorry for her. I think it was because, underneath her gaudy outfit and sensible make-up, she really was quite an attractive woman, though, as I have said, a little older than my tastes. Or was I just fooling myself in saying this? When was the last time a woman had liked me just for myself?
She composed herself and spoke in a little voice.
“I understand what you’re saying, James, but I don’t think
you
understand. I can’t simply swap this scroll for another. You are my
one true
love. How can there be another?”
I shook my head.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know and I don’t care. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m heading to the brothel. Good day, Madam.”
If I’d had a hat, I would have raised it. I pushed my way from the station entrance and through the evening market crowd, making my way to the Laughing Dog.
I couldn’t quite submerge the little unfamiliar feeling inside me, though. I felt ashamed.
I
T WAS STUFFY
and dim inside the Dog, especially after the yellow glow of the Dream London evening outside. I went straight to the bar and bought myself a pint of porter.
“Have you seen Bill?” I asked the barman, and as I did so I felt a hand slide onto my shoulder.
“Hello lover, fancy coming upstairs?”
Bill stood at my side, her red hair curling down to her bare shoulders.
She took my hand in hers and, pausing only for me to lift my glass from the counter, she led me up the stairs to the same room as yesterday.
The room had changed overnight. The wallpaper was now striped in a dusky pink that matched the bed covers.
“Is that bed larger than yesterday?” I said.
“I think so,” said Bill. “Never mind that. What did you find out?”