‘Of course I told him. That’s what he wanted. “Joe,” I said, “Joe, you’ve got six years at top, before the bastard comes calling. The old Joker Bone, deep down in the marrow.” You know what the man said back to me? He said, “Good.” Good! Just like that. “Good, because my father died of the same. Now I know what I’ve got to do.” Can you believe the man, Daisy? “To do what, Joe?” I asked. “To squeeze all the juice from life,” he answered. All the life, all the juice. Shit! I’m sorry…’
‘That’s OK,’ said Daisy. ‘No apologies. Here, take my handkerchief.’
‘Thank you. I don’t know why I’m crying, really I don’t. I’ve done hundreds of unravellings. I’ve found goodness in there, inside the DNA; long lives, sweet innings, good dreams. Like I know I’m gonna live forever; it’s in my genes. Unless the chance- god comes calling, early. OK, the gay gene is in there, but I knew that from the age of seven, when I went behind the garages with Alan Bradshaw. But every so often, a really bad gene turns up in a reading. Usually I keep quiet about it. Usually I do. But how could I keep such deep knowledge from Joe Crocus? How could I? He means too much to me. Too fucking much. And the man accepts it, like he’s won a fucking double-six domino! The man’s a saint, I tell you. A fucking saint.’
Benny blew his nose then.
‘Here’s your handkerchief back,’ he said, ‘slightly stained, I’m afraid.’
‘It’s all right. You keep it.’
‘Don’t worry, Daze. I haven’t got any nasty diseases. I’ve tested myself.’
‘I wasn’t—’
‘Cheers. It’s nice. You sure you don’t want a reading done?’
‘Thanks for the offer. It’s just that I don’t feel ready yet, to know my future.’
The whole of life is a game of dominoes,’ said Benny, chewing on a piece of meat, ‘and the winning numbers are hidden in your genes, alongside the losers. Some can improve their lives by knowing the ending, others just go all weak. It’s your choice, babe. Really it is.’
Daisy chewed on her own meat for a moment. ‘So you don’t mind having the gay gene?’
‘Mind? Why in the hell should I mind about it? Oh, I know it’s against the law, but it’s my love destiny, OK? Straights are straight, and gays are gay. And the gays have more fun. Ain’t that the truth? Why do you think I got this?’ Benny was touching the diamond in his nose.
‘How would I know?’
‘Because it matches the one in my tongue. Good for secret stuff. You know a diamond is a fractal surface?’
‘So?’
‘So they vibrate with energy. Yum yum. Like feathers, leaves, wounds and coastlines. It’s a mystical vibration. Good for licking.’ He stuck his tongue out to prove it.
This is Joe Crocus talking, right?’ said Daisy. ‘The Black Math stuff?’
‘OK, so he’s weird. Why do you think I love him so much?’
Benny produced a small package from his gentleman’s shoulder bag. It was an aluminium box, tightly crimped. A takeaway curry box that Benny opened up to show Daisy.
‘Shit, Benny. You bought a blurb?’
That I did, only this morning. Isn’t he a beauty?’
Certainly, a beauty; folded there on a bed of silver, with wings all a tremble, even whilst sleeping…
‘How do you know it’s a he?’ asked Daisy.
‘Well I’ve checked, haven’t I? Males are more aggressive, don’t you know?’
‘Yes. But they’re expensive.’
‘I got it cheap. From your lovely Jazir himself.’
‘It’s a bootleg! Surely you’re not trusting Jaz to deliver you? Don’t you know his blurbs go crazy? Nothing like the real thing. Just cheap copies. They crash.’
‘Nah. It’s been programmed. No troubles. Scooter’s a beauty.’
‘Scooter? You’ve given your advert a name?’
‘Of course I have. Aren’t you a little beauty, my lovely Scooter?’ Benny was actually talking to the folded-up specimen in its box, tickling its throbbing thorax. ‘He’s going to sing my praises from now on, Daisy, and also protect me from the slur wars. Isn’t that right. Scooter?’ Benny took a chunk out of his burger, pushed a half of it into his sticky mouth, and then fed the rest of it to his blurb.
‘Benny… put the lid back on,’ said Daisy, ‘the waiter’s looking over.’
‘This fly is gonna travel wide! He’s gonna send my message of gay love all over Manchester.’ Benny’s lips were smeared with wild ketchup.