“There he is,” said Duncan.
“Give me the gun,” said Jeff.
Duncan did, and Jeff stepped in front of Sparks, who had given up running and was panting outside a shoe shop.
“Fancy seeing you here,” said Jeff.
“Get out of my way,” said Sparks.
“So you can pant more freely?” said Jeff. “I’d be happy to. Here, you might want this.”
He handed Sparks the gun. Sparks looked at it consideringly.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Oh, it’s ‘thank you’ now, is it?” said Jeff, but Sparks was already moving away.
Kaye dropped a last piece of paper on the bonfire and moved away from it. He hoped he could get to the edge of the roof before the police appeared.
Alison came out of the service lift. She opened the fire exit door and immediately she could see Kaye’s bonfire. She ran out towards it, waving motes of burning paper away from her eyes.
Kaye was standing by a low rail, a few feet away from the ledge.
“Joseph!” Alison shouted.
Kaye turned round. His eyes looked rudderless.
“Go away,” he said. Then he appeared to reconsider. “Or stay. It doesn’t matter.”
“Come over here,” said Alison.
“It’s not your fault,” Kaye shouted.
“I know it’s not my fault,” Alison said. “It’s Sparks.”
“It was me,” said Kaye. “All the time, it was me.”
“It wasn’t you,” said Alison. “You’re right.”
“I am, am I?” said Kaye, and he sounded angry. “I believe in something that doesn’t exist. Actually,” and as he expanded the thought, he hopped the low rail. Now he was a few inches away from the ledge. “Actually, I believed in a few things that don’t exist. I believed you when you said your lover was dead.”
“He’s not my lover. And he is dead,” said Alison.
“I want to believe you. See?” said Kaye. “It’s me. It’s all me.”
Alison went over to the rail. She walked round it.
“It’s not you,” she said.
Kaye looked at her. She took his hand and wrapped her fingers in his.
“I don’t know who to trust,” he said. “I can’t even trust myself. ”
Alison turned to follow Kaye’s stare. Sparks was on the roof, with his hand in his pocket.
“Hello, Alison,” shouted Sparks, walking towards them. “Please move away from Joseph.”
“It’s the dead man,” said Kaye. “Hello, dead man.”
He moved towards the ledge. Alison, her hand still in his, moved with him.
“Stop there,” said Sparks.
“No,” said Kaye. “Let go,” he said to Alison.
“I’m not letting go,” said Alison. “Move back, Sparks.”
“No,” said Sparks.
“What’s happening?” said Jeff.
“Everyone’s standing close to the edge of the roof and he’s got something in his pocket,” said Duncan.
“Ooh,” said Jeff.
“Are you mad?” said Kaye. “Move back.”
“Are you mad?” asked Sparks. “That’s what I want to know.”
“Yes,” said Kaye, “I am. It’s all my fault. I know how to end it, though. So move back.”
“You’re holding my girlfriend’s hand,” said Sparks.
“I’m holding his hand,” said Alison.
“Your girlfriend?” said Kaye. “I feel so stupid.”
“I am not his girlfriend,” said Alison.
“Let go my hand,” said Kaye.
“No,” said Alison.
“All right,” said Sparks. “This really is enough.”
He reached into his pocket.
“What’s that?” said Kaye. “How typical. I’m about to kill myself but still you’re going to…”
He stared.
Alison stared, but not as much as Kaye.
“Oh my God,” said Kaye.
“Has he shot him?” said Jeff.
“Why don’t you have a look?” said Duncan, and handed Jeff the binoculars.
Jeff looked through the binoculars. He could see three figures on the roof. They were all standing.
“What are they doing?” he said, and focussed the binoculars again.
“What the hell is that?” said Jeff.
Sparks stepped back from Kaye, who was staring at what Sparks had given him.
“What is it?” asked Alison.
“Oh my God,” said Kaye again.
“It’s a cockroach,” said Sparks.
“It is,” said Kaye, wondering. “It is a cockroach.”
“I took it from the man who showed it to you,” said Sparks, as Kaye removed the cockroach from its matchbox and gazed at it like a long lost insect uncle.
“Then I’m not mad,” said Kaye. “I was right all along.”
“Yes, great,” said Sparks. “We should go now.”
“What’s a cockroach?” said Alison.
“I’ll tell you later,” said Sparks. “First I think we really should get down off here.”
Kaye and Alison came round the rail, Kaye still holding the cockroach. Sparks went to the fire exit.
“The door’s closed from the inside,” he said.
“I should have propped it open,” said Kaye. “But I didn’t think I…”
The door opened.
“That was lucky,” said Sparks.
“No, it wasn’t,” said Jeff. “Now get back over there and jump off the roof like you’re supposed to.”
Jeff and Duncan moved towards them.
“I’ve seen you before,” said Alison. “You were at Speaker’s Corner.”
“He showed me the cockroach,” said Kaye.
“We’ve all known each other for years,” said Jeff. “Now get over there before I shoot you.”
“How many guns have you got?” said Sparks.
“Just the…” said Jeff, as Sparks took Jeff’s gun from his pocket.
“Good plan,” said Duncan.
“Shut up,” said Jeff. “You won’t shoot me,” he said to Sparks.
Sparks fired the gun. A bullet bounced off the ground in front of Jeff.
“I’ll just stand a bit nearer next time,” said Sparks.
“What are you going to do with them?” asked Alison as Sparks ushered Jeff and Duncan down the stairs.
“I don’t know, tie them up and leave them in a conference room or something.”
“This is all real,” said Kaye. He stared at Jeff and Duncan again. “I’m sorry, I’m going to be a bit like this for a while.”
“This broom cupboard looks like a conference room,” said Sparks, stopping at the foot of the stairs.
“What are they doing here anyway?” said Alison. “I mean, it sounds a lot of wasted effort, trying to kill you and Joseph. I mean, not that you’re not worth killing. I mean…”
“I don’t know,” said Sparks. “I thought I did, but I don’t.”
He opened the cupboard door. The stairwell filled with light. Great rays of silver and gold luminescence poured out and got everywhere.
“Oh bugger,” said Jeff.
Kaye was so stunned he almost dropped the matchbox. Just when he thought he might not be mad, events were conspiring to make him go mad. As the stairwell stopped filling with light and started being a stairwell again, Kaye could see two figures coming out of the broom cupboard. One was tall and thin, like the two men who had tried to kill him, and the other was wider and stout.
“Hello Jeff,” said the thinner figure, now no longer a silhouette.
“Hello Duncan,” said the stouter figure, who was a woman.
“Hello Alan,” said Duncan. “Hello, Mrs Reeves.”
“I know you,” said Sparks. He was talking to the woman. “You work in a toy shop.”
“Not primarily,” said the woman. “Nice to see you again. And your friends.”
“Can I have that, please?” said A
lan. He indicated the matchbox.
“No,” said Kaye.
“I don’t think so,” said Alison. “We’ve been through a lot of grief because of that.”
“Anyway, it’s dead,” said Sparks. “And there’s that whole no one would believe us business as well.”
“I suppose so,” said Alan. “Actually, it was just the matchbox I wanted.”
He took it from Kaye, tipped the cockroach into his hand, and put the matchbox in his pocket.
“Hang on,” said Sparks. “There’s a picture of…”
Alan put his finger to his lips.
“Least said,” he said. “We’re not starting that all again.”
“Cup of tea, anyone?” said Mrs Reeves.
*
THE SOCIETY’S HEADQUARTERS, if that’s where they were, which it was, was a big Victorian building full of oak-panelled rooms and enormous tables.
“What a lot of oak,” said Kaye.
“I like oak,” said Alison.
“You never mentioned that before,” said Sparks.
Alison gave him an old-fashioned look.
“Shall I be mother?” asked Mrs Reeves. She had a large teapot and an awful lot of biscuits on a plate
“What?” said Kaye.
“It’s just an expression,” said Alison.
“Obviously,” said Sparks.
“Don’t get snippy, Sparks.”
“I’m not. I just meant it’s a common expression.”
“You’re getting snippy.”
“It’s all right,” said Joseph Kaye. “I think we’re all entitled to some degree of emotion at this point.”
“I’ve got Garibaldis and fig rolls,” said Mrs Reeves.
A large oak-panelled door opened and Alan came in. He looked more and more like someone who worked for the BBC. He even had a green corduroy jacket with elbow patches.
“Where’s Jeff and Duncan?” asked Sparks.
“They’ll be along in a while,” said Alan. “We were debriefing them. We don’t often find members of the Random nowadays.”
“Bit like teddy boys,” said Mrs Reeves. “Do you have teddy boys where you are?”
“What’s the Random?” said Sparks, “Is it anything to do with the…”
“Random Life Generator,” said Alan. “Yes. It’s what they use to get around. Slow thing, really, but all they could cobble together, given their resources.”
“What do you use then?” said Sparks.
“That would be telling,” said Alan.
“I know,” said Sparks. “I want you to tell me.”
Alan gave Sparks a look.
“You see,” said Mrs Reeves, “we are not the Random. We are the Society. The Random are a sort of splinter group.”
“Well, they are a splinter group,” said Alan. “There’s no ‘sort of’ about it. Sorry.”
“Have they been illegal and persecuted for hundreds of years?” said Sparks, hopefully.
“No,” said Mrs Reeve. “They used to meet in the pub across the road. But they got rowdy and the landlord banned them.”
“The Society does disapprove,” said Alan. “But what can we do? We’re not the police.” He sounded slightly disappointed.
“Then what are you?” said Sparks.
“Where do we start?” sighed Alan
“How about 300 years ago, with the aim of finding God’s Perfect World?” said Sparks, who really didn’t like Alan.
Alan looked at Sparks, as a man who knows everything looks at a man who knows too much.
“Oh, and they like hitting people and telling them to shut up,” added Sparks.
“No, that’s the Random,” said Alan. “The hitting part, anyway. The Society is still looking for God’s Perfect World, but in a more informal, nicer way. The Random, however, differ. They don’t believe there is a perfect world, made by God or anyone, but rather that the universe is…”
“Random,” suggested Sparks, guessing wildly.
“Yes,” said Alan. “While the Society has a noble sense of deistic purpose, the Random believe that the chaos of alternate worlds proves only that if there is a God, he is incredibly indecisive, and that this world, and the others, are half-baked, unfinished and senseless.”
“Well,” said Sparks, “they sort of have a point.”
The room went quiet.
“I mean,” said Sparks, ploughing on, “look at wars and that. ”
“Illness,” said Kaye. “Imprisonment and injustice.”
“Death,” said Alison.
“Accidents,” said Sparks. “And… random events.”
“Have you actually found any perfect worlds yet?” asked Alison. “Or come near to it even?”
Alan sighed like some important at the BBC being asked something obvious about the licence fee.
“This is a very old argument,” said Alan.
“That doesn’t mean it isn’t valid,” said Alison.
“Yes,” agreed Kaye. “In fact, its age tends to suggest that you’ve been unable to refute it.”
“Yeah,” said Sparks, not to be left out.
“Well, the maths is on our side,” said Alan. “There is clearly an infinite amount of worlds out there and one of them must be perfect.”
“Whose definition of perfect?” said Alison.
“Yes,” said Kaye. “How do you know that, say, the world I come from, the world that Alison comes on, isn’t perfect?”
“Yes,” said Alison. “It seems pretty perfect to me.”
Sparks looked at Alison.
“There aren’t any cockroaches,” he said.
“That’s not…” said Kaye. He stopped because Alison nudged him. Sparks was looking very unhappy.
“Come outside a sec,” said Alison.
“I only did all this to get back with you,” said Sparks.
“I’m not that Alison,” said Alison. “If you wanted to get back with that Alison, you should have gone after her. Not every other Alison in the universe apart from her.”
“She’s in Australia,” said Sparks. “It’s very expensive to go there.”
“Sparks, you’ve been round the universe. Australia’s fairly easy to get to in comparison.”
“I just… I’ve changed, you know.”
“I know you have. You’re different to the Sparks I knew. I mean, you’re not dead, but also… you’ve changed.”
“Then…”
“Sparks. I love you. I do. But I am in love with Joseph. And he’s in love with me.”
“He’s a nutter.”
“You know he isn’t.”
Sparks was silent. He knew this to be true.
“I know,” he said. “It’s just all a bit disappointing. I mean, not for you. Or him. It’s great. And I am glad. Or I will be. But…”
He stopped.
“Oh, you know.”
They went back in. Kaye was saying to Alan, “For all you know, God’s Perfect World might be composed entirely of cockroaches,” and Alan was saying, “Look, we’ve got a booklet that explains that,” and Mrs Reeves was opening more packets of biscuits. They all stopped when Sparks came in, probably because he looked so devastatingly sad.
“I want to go home,” said Sparks.
Alan looked at him.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll get Jeff and Duncan.”
“Great,” said Sparks. “Pardon?”
“We’re not the police,” said Alan. “We don’t arrest people.”
“But they did bad things,” said Sparks. “They made me, well one of me, disappear.”
“Oh, him,” said Alan, annoyingly. “He’s fine. He went to some bloody world and became a pop star. We’d have got him back but he seems to be liking the sex.”
“They tried to kill me,” said Sparks. “They tried to get me to kill people. And they set fire to my bed.”
“Well, we might reduce their privileges,” said Alan, virtually yawning.
“A lot,” said Mrs Reeves, quite firmly. “And re-as
sign them. There’s a world where no one remembered to invent personal hygiene. That’s not nice. And there’s one where thin people are considered a delicacy.”
“The possibilities,” said Alan, “are infinite.”
“I am sorry,” said Duncan. “But I got confused.”
“Because he’s an idiot,” said Jeff.
“I was an idiot,” said Duncan. “Now, oddly, I find Jeff’s hysterical personality and aggression more pitiable than interesting.”
“What?” said Jeff. “I’ll do you for that.”
“No you won’t,” said Duncan. “While thin, I am heavier than you. And more patient. You’ll stop bullying me now.”
“Can I hit him?” said Sparks. “For old times’ sake.”
“No,” said Duncan. “I’ll be looking after his sorry behind from now on. Maybe he’ll turn out to be less of a fool now.”
“I can see that happening,” said Sparks.
Duncan shrugged.
“I agreed with a lot of this Random stuff,” said Sparks.
“It’s a good theory,” said Duncan. “But sometimes you think the other lot have got the right idea. I mean, all this stuff and it just got here somehow?”
“It’s possible,” said Jeff.
“Who knows,” said Duncan. “Here,” he said to Sparks, handing him a small bag.
“What is it?” said Sparks.
“It’s a small bag,” said Duncan. “In it is an A-Z of Melbourne in Australia, and an address.”
Sparks looked in the bag, then back at Duncan.
“She’s dumped him,” said Jeff. “Obviously can’t make her mind up. Spends her life wandering from unsuitable man to unsuitable man. We’ve all done it.”
“Are you gay?” said Sparks suddenly.
“Yes,” said Jeff. “Problem with that?”
“No!” said Sparks. “Why are you giving me this?”
“It was her idea,” said Duncan. “Not the one in Australia, the one having tea with Alan. Resolve it, she said. Go down under, not sideways. Whatever that means.”
Sparks took the address out.
“Blimey,” he said.
“In here,” said Duncan, and opened a door. A lot of blinding light came out again.
Sparks Page 23
