20: BAD LIEUTENANT

  One day a terrible drought came upon the land. It was a drought of biblical proportions. There was no weed to be had anywhere. Mr. Big had none and all of the other volume suppliers round about had none and Darren's contacts in the big cities had none. When they were down to their last quarter ounce the yard gate was shut, signal that trading was suspended, and Darren imposed a drastic regime of rationing on the house, decreeing that they must wait a full two minutes between stubbing out a roach and reaching for the skins again. When they had none left even for personal use, Darren went round all the other dealers in town, even sending an intermediary to the Naylor brothers, but none of them had any either. That night nerves were frazzled and tempers were frayed. Karen even called Darren's manhood into question. "The man of the house should always be able to put weed on the table," she said sulkily.
  The following day Darren left the house early vowing not to return without cannabis.
   The same day Darren's mother and grandfather and his younger brother's girlfriend went to visit his younger brother at the rehabilitation centre Darren had previously been immured in. Darren's younger brother was making great progress and the next day he was to embark on a cultural trip to Thailand in the company of one of Call-me-Keith's colleagues.
  Thus it came about that Kevin and Karen were left alone in the house together.
  It was raining out. They sat on the couch boredly watching television.
  "I'm bored," announced Karen at length, rolling round on the couch and kicking Kevin. "I wish we had some weed."
  "Me too."
  "Don't you know where we can get any?"
  "No."
  "You're as useless as he is." She kicked him again.
  "Stop that."
  "Make me." She kicked him once more.
  Kevin couldn't be arsed to respond. Karen placed the heel of her sock-clad foot on Kevin's crotch and watched him to see what his reaction would be. Kevin's reaction was to remove her foot and carry on watching telly. Karen sighed. "Useless," she said again.
  "Actually," said Kevin after a while, "I do know where there'll be some weed if you're desperate."
  "Where?"
  "Down the couch. There's always some down the couch. It's a law of nature."
  They got up and removed the cushions and started to examine the couch carefully. Sure enough, they soon had a handful of likely-looking brown crumbs each.
  "Fucking hell," said Karen delightedly, "we could open a hash bar with this."
  "We might as well just smoke the whole couch." Actually, after they had sifted through the fragments and removed the chocolate crumbs and some inexplicable bits of plastic and some other brown lumps that made Kevin think perhaps Cerberus had spent some time on the couch before he had been housebroken, it was a pretty paltry haul. They decided to stick it all in one big joint, which Karen quickly built, much happier now and telling Kevin he was a genius.
  "Let's power-smoke it," she said.
  The essence of power-smoking was that you took a toke and then passed it to the other person for them to take a toke and meanwhile held your breath until you got it back again. It got you stoned quickly, but the drawback was when the other person started arsing round when they had control of the spliff, as Karen soon started doing, taking very long pauses between exhaling and taking a drag and then sadistically holding the joint out of Kevin's reach for a while so that Kevin was reduced to frantically clawing for it with his eyes bulging and his face turning purple from asphyxia. Finally she simply refused to give it him back and fended him off when he grappled with her to retrieve it. Eventually Kevin let his breath out.
  "You let your breath out," she said.
  "I'm not playing any more."
  "Let's give each other blowbacks," said Karen.
  Karen took the lighted end of the joint in her mouth and then leaned towards Kevin so their mouths were almost touching, looking into his eyes and taking hold of Kevin's head to steady herself. Kevin put his lips around the roach end and she blew a lungful of smoke through the joint and into his mouth.
  "Did you enjoy that?" she asked.
  "Yes," coughed Kevin, teary-eyed, hoping she wouldn't notice his incipient erection.
  Then Kevin tried to give Karen a blowback and promptly burned his tongue. Karen fell about and had hysterics while Kevin held his mouth saying "Shit," and "Jesus." "It's not fucking funny," said Kevin reproachfully as she continued to laugh. "I've maimed me tongue. I'm gonna be talking like Sylvester Stallone for the rest of me life. What's me future wife going to say when she finds I can't perform certain perverse husbandly duties?"
  Karen was quite giddy now.
  "I know what we can do," she said when the comic potential of Kevin's tongue had been milked dry. "Let's take an E."
  "No thanks."
  "Come on, why not?" Karen rummaged through various video cassette cases until she found one containing a number of Ecstasy pills which Darren was planning to flog at a club at the weekend. "We'll just do half a one each."
  "No, not me."
  "Why not?"
  "They kill you, don't they?"
  "Do they fuck. You've more chance of dying off a peanut."
  "I don't do peanuts either."
  "Don't be soft. There's a thousand to one chance of having a bad reaction."
  "I've nearly overdosed off a Smartie before today."
  "You're a puff."
  "Yes."
  "Go on, please, for me," she said poutingly.
  "No. My body is a temple - well, my body is a wooden chapel with a tin roof, and I don't choose to contaminate it with unnatural substances."
  Karen rummaged among some takeaway remnants at the side of the couch and found a knife. She cut the Ecstasy tablet in two, swallowed half herself, then sat on Kevin and attempted to insert the other half between his closed lips.
  "Take it," she said.
  Kevin shook his head. Karen pinched him on the arm, put the pill on his tongue when he opened his mouth to say "Ow," then clamped her hand over his mouth to prevent him spitting it out. So Kevin took his first E.
  For the first twenty minutes or so not much happened. He sat there watching telly and waiting to die while Karen sat there saying, "Can you feel anything yet?" and he replied, "No, we've been ripped off, let's break Darren's legs when he gets back." Actually something had happened and he could feel something, namely a monstrous erection that had sprung up like Godzilla from the depths virtually the second the pill had dropped down his gullet. He had had the beginnings of one during the blowback, but that had vanished when he burnt his tongue, and had felt some stirrings when Karen sat on him, but this was clearly an erection of a different and unnatural order, an insistent and unyielding rod of iron that he felt must burst the seams of his jeans at any moment and would take a bomb disposal expert to disarm without detonation.
  It was some time before a further and more worrying effect of the drug began to take hold. It so happened that Alan Titchmarsh was on the television screen in front of him. Kevin was never sure at exactly what point he realized he had conceived an immense affection for Alan Titchmarsh, but when the feeling struck him it was overwhelming. He had never realized before what a fine and funny man Alan Titchmarsh was, what a warm and wonderful human being. He loved Alan Titchmarsh, and he wouldn't have been ashamed for anyone to know it. He sat there smiling simperingly at him and laughing loudly at his jokes. After a while it struck him what was happening: he was bonding with Alan Titchmarsh. He was sitting there deeply in love with Alan Titchmarsh, sitting there watching him with an erection like a telegraph pole in his pants. Truly, this was a dangerous drug. He was even bonding with Alan Titchmarsh's shirt. It was a lovely shirt. It reminded him of the shirt he had had stolen at the holiday camp. He thought of his own lost shirt with a deep nostalgia and regret that almost brought tears to his eyes.
  "He's ace him," he said aloud. "I used to have a shirt like that."
  Karen, too, seemed to be getting into Alan Titchmarsh. She was smiling dopily and sniggering languidly at his banter. She was also wriggling around on the couch, crossing and uncrossing her laps, and holding a cushion on her lap.
  "One thing about this stuff, it gets you horny," she said.
  "Yeah."
  "Pity when you can't do anything about it." She turned to smile at him.
  "Yeah." Kevin smiled back. Karen was a wonderful person too, his first and closest friend, possibly even nicer than Alan Titchmarsh, and incredibly desirable.
  "Keeps you going, too," she said. "Me and Darren were at it for nearly ten hours once on this stuff."
  "Jesus. You should have got someone to sponsor you. I hope you told Norris McWhirter."
  Karen sniggered. "Are you horny too?"
  "Er...a bit." Kevin smiled nervously.
  Karen looked at his lap; her eyes widened. "Is that something in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?"
  Smiling sickly, Kevin glanced down and saw to his relief that, as well as a fly-popping erection, he did indeed have something in his pocket, namely the wrench that Darren had made him start carrying around. He took it out and showed it to her.
  "What's that for?"
  "Darren gave it me to protect myself against the Naylor brothers."
  "A lot of use that'd be."
  "Well, if you've seen the Naylor brothers, they've all got these huge bolts sticking out of their necks. If I got close enough I could unscrew their heads."
  Karen tittered. "The Naylor brothers'd make mincemeat out of you."
  "Yes."
  "They'd beat you to a bloody pulp. You might look better for it. Give you a few good scars, make you look tough. I like a man to have scars."
  "I've got an appendix scar."
  "Let's see."
  Kevin lifted up his T-shirt.
  "It's a good one, that," said Karen.
  "It ruined my career as a belly dancer."
  Karen traced the course of the scar with one long fingernail; Kevin felt his stomach muscles tense.
  "You've got a really hairy belly-button," she said.
  "Escaped pubes. It's disgusting."
  "So I'm running me fingers through your pubic hair now? Imagine." She looked him in the eye solemnly.
  "Er...yeah," said Kevin nervously, tugging his T-shirt back down.
  "Why don't you take your top off," said Karen.
  "Why?"
  "Aren't you hot?"
  "Not particularly." He was actually sweating quite profusely.
  "I am. I'm going to take mine off." Karen peeled her top off over her head and sat there in her bra looking at him.
  "Er...shouldn't you...what if someone comes?"
  "Gate's shut. The only one is you. It doesn't bother you, does it?"
  "Oh, no."
  "It doesn't turn you on, does it?"
  "No, no."
  "Why not? Are you saying I'm not fit, lad?"
  "No, no, but, you know, you're with Darren."
  "I'm not Darren's property. I mean you can still look. I don't mind you looking. Have a good look. Do you think I'm fit?"
  "Er...yeah," said Kevin dry-mouthed.
  "Well you could tell me sometimes. A girl likes to be told. You could flirt with me sometimes. There's no harm in a little flirting, is there?"
  "I don't think Darren would appreciate it."
  "Darren's not here. We're alone now."
  "Well...you're fit then." Kevin abruptly turned away and fished around for his cigarette packet. "Djer wanna cig?"
  Karen took one and let him light it for her, still eyeing him steadily, with some amusement now. When the cig was alight she lay back on the couch and stretched and sighed.
  "They reckon a cigarette's meant to be a substitute for a nipple, you know," she said. Idly she started to finger her own nipples and sighed again. "I miss the baby sucking at me tits, me. Dead sensual." She looked up at Kevin.
  "Actually," said Kevin starting to rise, "I think I'd better check on the baby."
  "Sit down." She extended a leg across his middle and forced him to sit down again. "Sit down and talk to us. Are you shy around girls, you, lad?"
  "Not at all," said Kevin. "I'm a regular lounge lizard."
  "How many girlfriends have you had?"
  "Half of Lancashire, me."
  "Are you a virgin, you?" she asked in amusement.
  "Are you kidding? Me? Do I look like a virgin?"
  "Yeah."
  "How does a virgin look?"
  "Like you looked when I was playing with me tits."
  "I was just mildly interested."
  "There's no shame in being a virgin, you know. Not nowadays, people are quite openminded about that sort of thing."
  "I'm not ashamed of keeping myself pure until Miss Right comes along and sweeps me off my feet. Or Miss Wrong comes and cracks her whip, for that matter."
  "You need someone experienced to show you the ropes."
  "I probably shouldn't start messing round with ropes until my third or fourth shag at least."
  "You need someone who knows her way around."
  "I know my way around. Well, I know roughly the general area where all the action takes place. Hopefully everything would be signposted after that. 'This way to the uterus,' and so on.'"
  "I've never been with a virgin, me."
  "You mean you're a virgin with virgins?"
  "Yeah." She dug her foot into his crotch again, this time encountering a more solid resistance. "Maybe we could both lose our virginity."
  "If you weren't Darren's bird and I wasn't his trusty lieutenant."
  Karen sighed and stood up. She turned the telly off and turned a tape player on. Rave music filled the room. Karen started to sway and gyrate in time to it in front of him.
  "Come and dance with me," she said.
  "I can only dance the tango."
  "You can't dance the tango."
  "I can. I used to give lessons. I was on Come Dancing."
  "Come and dance the tango with me then."
  Kevin got up and took hold of her and for several minutes they stepped energetically about the room in a shambolic parody of a tango danced to a rave beat, with Kevin going 'Da da da da, da-da-da-da-da,' and Karen giggling.
  "I've still got it," said Kevin when he sat down again.
  Karen resumed her rhythmic swayings.
  "I've got to use me energy up somehow," she said. "If I can't fuck I'll have to dance."
  She put her hands behind her head and started to gyrate her hips looking down at him.
  "Shall I lap-dance for you?"
  "No."
  But Karen did indeed start to lap-dance for him, shimmying and grinding and lowering herself down over him, then turning round and rotating her derriere over his lap, a couple of times brushing against his crotch, very nearly causing him to have a little accident.
  "Stop that," said Kevin faintly.
  "Why?" she asked, turning and shaking her bosom from side to side inches from his face.
  "You're distracting me from the music."
  She sat down astride him.
  "Get off me," said Kevin.
  "Make me," she said.
  So Kevin tried to make her, but she pulled him down with her, and the next thing he knew they were rolling around on the floor wrestling.
  "I can have you, lad," she said. "Never mind the Naylor brothers, I bet I could beat you in a fight."
  Partly because Kevin wasn't trying very hard and partly because he didn't have much upper body strength, before too long Karen had him pinned to the floor. She held him like that for a moment, grinning victoriously and panting slightly, then got to her feet and pulled him up with her.
  "Come upstairs with me," she said.
  "What for?"
  "I want to show you something. Come on."
  "No."
  She laughed. "Do you think I'm going to seduce you? I just want to show you something."
  "What do you want to show me?" he asked stupidly as he followed her upstairs.
  "You'll see. It's a nice surprise for you."
  He followed her into her and Darren's bedroom.
  "I lied," she said as she shut the door behind him and leaned back against it. "I am going to seduce you." She unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them off.
  "Oh." He nodded. "What about Darren?"
  "He's gone to Manchester. He won't be back for ages."
  "Someone will be back within the next ten hours," he said. Although the way he was feeling, he sensed that ten seconds would be closer to the required time-slot.
  "We'll just have a quick hour or so."
  "Thank Christ I had my Weetabix this morning."
  "I'm a dead good shag, me," she said as she lay down on the bed and pulled him to her. "Everyone says so."
  "There are dozens of reasons why this is a really bad idea," he said. But just for the moment he couldn't think of any of them.
  Perhaps it was the sight of the Karen 4 Darren tattoo on her inner thigh that brought him back to sanity, although when he first saw it the only thing that came to his mind was the lunatic thought that, since Darren was illiterate, she could have had 'I fuck everyone' tattooed there for all he'd know. But suddenly he was getting up and stumbling towards the door.
  "I'm Darren's lieutenant," he blurted.
  Kevin went straight down to the kitchen and drank two pints of water without pause.
  "Idiot," he said to his reflection in the kitchen window, unsure if he was saying it because he had been going to sleep with her or because he had failed to do so.
  Then it wasn't his own face he was looking at.
  "I've got weed," said Darren jubilantly as he came in. "Fucking Billy McGregor's been sitting on two ounces all along. Fucking prime stuff an' all. Fucking hell, mate, what's the matter, you look pale as a ghost."
  "Withdrawal symptoms," said Kevin.



Chapter 21
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