Gabriel took some money and went to give the rest back. ‘That’s all I need. I’ve got to pay my bill at the video shop.’
‘Take the lot. All I need is my bus fare. Give Mum the rest. Don’t forget to say it’s from me. How is the old girl?’
‘Don’t you know?’
‘What? Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t. Help me out, Gabriel — does she speak fondly of me, at all?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Once hatred is expressed, love has a chance. Isn’t that always the way? What are you doing right now? Shall we have a quick drink?’
Gabriel said, ‘Dad, what’s up with you today? You’ve got that staring-eyed look. Are you nervous about teaching? What if they don’t want to learn?’
‘It’s not difficult to see that people assume you’re a sadist masquerading as an educationalist. If they don’t want to learn, I sit with them — thinking.’
‘Thinking about what?’
‘What I’m doing is teaching people how to listen to what is going on in the music, to hear what is there. You can’t make music yourself if you don’t know what the possibilities are. The kids see that. The kids don’t bother me. I can get straight to them, and them to me. It’s the older ones and their parents I mind. Have you got a minute to talk?’ said Dad. ‘Let’s have just the one. It’s not the intoxication I’m interested in — I’m parched. I only want to quench my thirst.’
Dad was already hurrying across the road, towards his old local on the corner, where children were allowed until eight, and they knew Rex and Gabriel well.
The place was full of childish men from the post office and the local bus garage gazing up at the big TV screen. Dad’s grey-faced mates were playing pool. They all looked the same to Gabriel, with their roll-ups, pints and musty clothes. They rarely went out into the light, unless they stood outside the pub on a sunny day, and they were as likely to eat anything green as they were to drink anything blue or wear anything pink.
Dad had hardly reached the bar before his pint was pulled and put down, next to Gabriel’s St Clement’s. They sat at their usual table, where Gabriel used to do his homework while Dad talked at the bar.
Immediately Dad seemed settled: Gabriel wondered whether he really intended to give his lesson. He loved his new work, and always seemed on the point of abandoning it.
Dad drank half his pint and licked his lips. ‘I wanted to say —’ he began.
‘Game, Rex?’ said one of his mates, coming over.
‘Not now, Pat. With the boy.’
‘Gabriel,’ said Pat. ‘Rex, where you been?’
‘Working.’
‘Working?’
Dad said, ‘Your surprise surprises and annoys me, Pat. Yes, working — where I’m off to when I’ve finished talking to Gabriel.’
‘Recording?’
‘That sort of thing,’ said Dad.
‘No time for your old mates?’
‘I’ll be back,’ said Dad. ‘Even you know that what goes up must come down. Don’t you worry!’
‘I am worrying,’ said Pat. He put his hands on the table and his face close to Dad’s. He had filthy nails. ‘You owe me.’
‘Yeah, maybe I do,’ laughed Dad. ‘I expect you owe me, too.Everyone in here owes everyone else and none of them’s going to get a bean!’
‘You’re working,’ said Pat. ‘I’m not.’
‘I am working this week, but I’m not carrying a lot of loose change around with me, am I, Gabriel? I can’t carry the weight.’ Dad said, ‘Pat, what about when I asked if I could stay at yours and you didn’t even bother to reply!’
‘Not my fault, pal. The wife —’
‘Oh yeah? The wife.’
‘At least I’ve still got one!’
‘Thanks. I even offered to kip on the floor of your shed in a sleeping-bag. I know who my friends are now.’
‘You’re working,’ said the man again. ‘Who are you trying to kid —?’
‘Look,’ said Dad, irritably. ‘Give me a break, will you? I’m with my boy. Just bugger off!’
‘But you owe me!’ said Pat with a horrible sense of injustice. ‘What’s that new jacket you’re wearing?’
Pat reached out and put his hand in Dad’s inside pocket. Dad forced his hand away.
‘Don’t you feel me up!’ said Dad. ‘You can fuck off now!’
‘Give me what’s mine!’ said Pat.
Everyone was watching. They were used to this and were fascinated. The manager reached under the bar for his cricket bat.
‘Not right now,’ said Dad. ‘You can wait a couple more days, can’t you? I always know where you are — here or in front of the telly.’
‘Look —’ said Pat.
Gabriel was pulling out the money Dad had given him.
‘Here we go,’ said Pat. ‘You’ve got a good, sensible boy there, man.’
‘No, not your pocket money,’ said Dad. ‘Put it away, Gabriel, right now!’
Pat took the money, kissed it and said, ‘Ta very much.’ He went to the bar and ordered a drink.
‘Bastard!’ shouted Dad. Pat wiggled his arse. To Gabriel Dad said, ‘I’ll make it up to you. Jesus, I’m sorry. These losers are a load of idiots. They never work but they’ll take everything.’
‘Dad —’
‘Quiet!’
‘All Along the Watchtower’ had come on the juke-box, even louder than the TV. At the first of Jimi’s chords one of Dad’s friends at the pool table looked up. Dad made a guitar gesture and ecstatically screwed up his face.
‘“There must be some way outta here,’” he sang. ‘This was all I wanted,’ said Dad. ‘To make a noise like that and have people listen to it thirty years later. It must seem pretty naïve to you. Maybe we all mythologized pop and pop stars too much, and refused to see what else is worth doing. I was thinking last night what a self-destructive period it was and how many people, gratuitously, unnecessarily, put themselves in the way of serious harm. How many of us — apart from Lester — emerged with our health and creativity?’
‘You did.’
‘I did? I know how self-destructive I am, but as with everything else, I’m not particularly good at it.’ He put his hand in Gabriel’s hair. ‘Are you making or breaking? That’s all I want to know, now. It’s not too late for me to say that I admire you, Gabriel.’
‘Me? What for?’
‘You ran the school magazine. You did the debating society, and the drama society.’
‘Not any more.’
‘No, you rebelled but at least you took part. You joined in and you will again. You’ll keep it together, I know you will. You’ll go much further than me. I kept myself apart. I know I’m intelligent. Except that it all got lost in negative energy. I wanted to rip everything down. It was a sixties idea to piss on things, the “straight” world, mainly. It was considered rebellious. But it meant I had a cynical soul and I wish I didn’t. I haven’t liked things enough. I haven’t opened the windows of my soul. I haven’t let enough in. If only I’d had your enthusiasm. That’s all that ambition is — enthusiasm with legs. Lester must have seen that in you.’
‘Thanks Dad. You’re —’
‘No, no. I’m not.’ Dad leaned across the table. ‘Have you got any of that money left? Drink up! Let’s have another one — to celebrate!’
‘You’ll have nothing to celebrate if you don’t turn up for your class,’ said Gabriel.
‘Forget about that,’ said Dad. ‘Pint of bitter!’ he called.
Gabriel said, ‘What would your mum say if she could see you now? She didn’t turn up to school half-pissed, did she?’
‘No, well. You’re right. You make me ashamed. You’re good at that. But listen — before we were interrupted by that fool I was saying something important. It was Jake on the phone. In fact he gave me the phone in the first place. “You need a phone,” Jake said. “Here you are — you’re a businessman now.” “Am I?” I said. “I hope it hasn’t come to that!”’