‘Oh yeah?’
‘You know, I was talking to a writer friend who is taking those workshop things with young people. When he asked them to write about their childhoods all the stories — every one — were about being humiliated by adults. Right?’
‘Wow,’ said Gabriel. ‘It’s a familiar thing, then?’
‘Indeed. Look, look Gabriel — over there.’
He pointed down at the table where the four people who’d come in earlier were sitting.
‘There’s Charlie Hero. Don’t you recognize him?’
‘Is that him? He’s much older.’
‘Yeah. Your father played with him. He’s with his school friend Karim Amir, the half-Indian actor, fresh out of the clinic. He’s in that big film with all the sand — I can’t remember what it’s called. Jake Ambler produced it. There was a cool party at Gaga, and Charlie played “Kill for Dada” with his old band. Karim got up and harmonized. ‘Speedy put his lips to Gabriel’s ear.’ You know — this isn’t gossip — everyone knows —’
‘What?’
‘Charlie’s mother and Karim’s father were lovers, years ago. Karim told me he caught them at it in her back garden in Becken-ham, one time.’
‘Wow. I love those old stories. Everyone knows everyone else.’
‘So will you, soon. That’s the way it goes. I’ll see to it. She’s dead now. I think the father is, too. I’m not sure. I can find out from an old copy of Hello!. Want their autographs? Why not meet them? I’ll take you over.’
Gabriel looked across at Karim and Charlie, so frivolous and self-absorbed. If he had their money, he would be able to make his film; he wouldn’t be sitting here.
‘Maybe later,’ Gabriel said. ‘There’s something on my mind.’ He leaned forward. Archie was right there with him, giving him strength. ‘I wanted to see Lester’s picture.’
‘There it is, pal. Over there, under the light. Come in and take a good look whenever you want. We’ll get you an armchair if you want to get comfortable. This is an artists’ hangout.’
‘Lester Jones didn’t give the picture to my father. He gave it to me. He wanted me to have it because he liked me. That’s what people can’t see, Speedy. It wasn’t a money thing. It was freely given — a gift.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Lester said I was talented.’
‘Really? At what?’
‘Painting. Making films. I know how to do it — I know I do — and that’s what I’m going to do. A lot of the stuff around at the moment is no good at all. I want to be the best, Mr Speedy.’
‘When you grow up?’
‘Yeah. On that day.’
‘Wow. That’s an imprimatur enough for me.’
‘Underneath it all, Dad’s talented, you see. I get it from him.’
‘No. If you’ve got it, you get it from yourself and don’t you forget it. You can inherit an old tie but not a gift, that’s one thing I know.’ Speedy was looking at him. ‘You think I haven’t tried to write scripts and make films? I sat still at a desk for — for quite a long time; at least it seemed a long time to me — and I couldn’timagine a thing! The only thing I ever wrote was a cheque!’
‘For some people, imagining is the most natural thing in the world. They don’t have to sweat blood over it. You just hit the groove and see stuff!’
‘You might, Gabriel. But I don’t. Or, the moment I see something, I know I’ve seen it before in a better film than I could ever make, and there’s no point writing it down again. You’re one lucky guy, Mr Gabriel.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Every idiot in this bar is trying to write a script. Not one of these people doesn’t have a badly written story in their drawer. But, in the end, how many of them are really prepared to put the work in? They might be able to spell, but they can’t write to save their lives. If you can really do it, you’re the top man. But I know those guys, the creative artists. They’re selfish and self-obsessed; the desire for success isn’t pretty. It’s a hunger that never goes away or can be satisfied. That’s what makes people into stars.’
‘Mr Speedy —’ interrupted Gabriel.
Gabriel saw that Speedy, unlike most other people, didn’t leave gaps in the conversation; however, he didn’t seem to mind if you butted in. For him listening was an opportunity to peruse his restaurant and wave.
Gabriel continued, ‘I think Lester will be annoyed at the picture being here. My father shouldn’t have sold it to you. It doesn’t really belong to him. Dad’s a good guy but he was desperate and depressed and living in a dump. He’s admitted he did a bad thing. He knows he made a mistake.’
Gabriel started to empty his pockets of their notes and coins onto the table.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’
‘Take it, Mr Speedy. Please. Let me buy it back — my picture.’
‘Wait. Lester annoyed — did you say? Who gives a damn. To hell with Lester. He’s got everything a guy could want. He’s such a big man he doesn’t even pay his taxes. Why would he worry about a picture? He could paint more pictures. That one can’t have taken him more than ten minutes. Well, twenty, maybe, with the words and all.’
‘I’m worried about the picture.’
‘How can anyone worry about a damn picture?’
‘That this is the right place for it.’
‘Wherever I am is a good place for any picture — I can assure you of that, baby. Have you got a problem, Gabriel?’
‘Mr Speedy —’
‘If you want the picture so badly, there must be a reason.’
Speedy was sitting close to him; Speedy was stroking his knee and going higher, into the softer flesh. Gabriel could hear Archie screaming. Gabriel told him not to be so touchy; wasn’t he used to it, from school? There would be worse things.
Gabriel said, ‘You purchased it. You have a lot of money. But Speedy, I want to say: is there anything I can do for you?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Is there?’
Speedy applied the back of his hand to his forehead and made as if to swoon away.
‘That, little baby, is the number one question I’ve been waiting for all my life! Can I have time to think about it?’ Speedy was goggle-eyed and almost choking. ‘You are quite a kid, right! Ha, ha, ha!’
Charlie Hero passed by the table and Speedy grabbed his hand.
‘Hey, Charlie, Charlie —’
‘What’s happening, Speedy?’
‘Meet Gabriel. He’s my latest pal.’ Charlie raised his eyebrows. ‘It’s not what you think, Charlie. I said pal, not peach. His father’s Rex Bunch, the guitar player. He was in the Push with you.’
‘I’d remember that, if I had a memory,’ said Charlie. He touched Gabriel on the shoulder. ‘One thing returns. We were doing open-air gigs and in the evening, when it got chilly, Rex’s feet got cold. We had to put an electric heater in the wings to keep him warm. When his bunions were burning, he could play. He couldn’t always stand up straight, but he could stroke those strings.’
‘Yeah, he’s a stroker, that man. How’s Karim?’ said Speedy.
‘He’s good at the moment. Lester’s laying some stoical music on his new film. And he’s got a son now — Haroon, he’s called, known as Harry. Then he’s getting married.’
‘Party?’
‘I should say so.’
‘Where?’
‘Mental, I think, or Anus, maybe.’ Charlie lowered his voice. ‘Speedy —’
‘Yeah?’
‘Send that waitress over to ask for my autograph. Tell her not to recognize Karim or ask him for anything, right? Ask her to give me a kiss, too. These girls do kisses, don’t they?’
‘Sure.’ Charlie was laughing. ‘No problem.’ When Charlie had gone, Speedy said, ‘Nice guy. No talent and with the vanity of Cleopatra herself! But bright.’ He pointed. ‘His bondage trousers are in that cabinet over there. Gabriel.’ said Speedy, ‘I’ve heard you, man. It’s gone in. It’s hit the hot spot and it’s workin’ in me.’