Jimmy fell silent, the old five-four in his hand.
‘Domino.’ He said it in a whisper. ‘Two moves from now. Sorry.’
‘But some of you carried it on?’ Daisy was packing the dominoes into their wooden box. ‘After she left?’
‘Yeah, we stuck together. I think out of that class, maybe half of us were capable of taking it somewhere else. Somewhere good, you know? And at the core there was me, and Hackle, Malthorpe, with Blank-Blank in tow, and this girl… erm…’
‘Susan Prentice?’
‘Yeah, that’s it. With the knowledge we’d learned, it was easy to make progress. Hackle and Malthorpe, and Prentice I think, they all went on to university. Georgie, by that time, was working in a garage, something dirty like that. This would be, what…1959, 1960?’
‘Why didn’t you go?’
‘More important things to do. Politics. Look at me, eh? You wouldn’t think it, but back then I was a firebrand. Again, I put this down to Miss Sayer; I had a mission of my own, having escaped. Escape should have no favourites. And university stank of elitism. Oh dear. Let’s say that I had beliefs, but I got over them. Do you mind if I have a drink?’
Daisy shook her head. ‘When did you next see Hackle?’
‘That would be around 1977. We found each other by chance, a cafe in town. No big deal, just chatting. Not much to say on my part. I was over my political shit, but had found nothing to replace it. I was in my mid-thirties, the time when you find the path, and I was the oldest plumber’s mate in history.’
‘What about Hackle?’
‘He was a teacher by then, which surprised me; I didn’t think he’d follow in her footsteps that closely. He wanted me to meet the “old gang”, as he put it.’
Her father drained his glass of vodka, and Daisy watched in dismay as he poured himself another one, his eyes already fixed on some distant place. But she had to get this out of him…
‘Hackle offered you a job?’
‘A job?’
‘Special consultant, the Number Gumbo…’
‘I was never part of that. Never!’ He took a slug. ‘Special consultant? Hah! They used me, more like. Hackle, Malthorpe… the lot of them.’
‘Used you?’
‘Why are you so interested in all this? Why are you so interested in me? After all this time, Daisy… it’s not right. It’s not fair!’
‘You rang me up. What am I supposed to do, ignore you?’
‘You’re after something. You’re after something, what is it?’
‘Nothing, I…’
‘It’s Hackle isn’t it? Your precious teacher. He knows nothing. A fucking amateur. What’s he doing to you? I’m your teacher, not him. Stupid girl. What’s wrong with you?’
Daisy had really wanted this meeting to go well. Too well, expecting too much. Slipping away, slipping… Maybe she should leave? Leave him to his wet solace. Instead…
‘Hackle wants to ruin the AnnoDomino Company.’
That made her father sit up, glass poised. He slugged it back and looked at Daisy for a long time, like a thousand yards up close.
Daisy pressed on: ‘He’s asked me to help, and some other students. He thinks it’s to do with what happened in your school.’
Her father put down his glass. ‘Daisy, I beg you. Don’t get involved.’
‘I thought you could help.’
‘Don’t get involved.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s dangerous.’
‘In what way? Please, give me a clue. What did you do in the Number Gumbo? Look, I know all about Hackle Mazes and nymphomation and all that. I don’t fully understand it and I can’t see the problem. I can’t make it real. You were there. I want to know what happened. Why did the group split up? Please. I’m asking you to help me…’
Her father, slowly shaking his head, looking down now. Lost. His words so quiet, but so harsh.
‘There is no help. It kills you.’
Play to win
Daisy started outside the bookshop on Deansgate, searching that hole and all the holes around, even asking all the vagabonds installed if they knew the whereabouts of Little Miss Celia and Big Eddie. Getting no good answers, but plenty of abuse. Jazir was accompanying her, at his own insistence. Calling it their first date. Silly. One good soul (lubricated with punies) told them that the two beggars were living in Gorton, or so the story goes, but that they had moved on from there since, no doubt. Jazir handed the beggar a business card from the Golden Samosa.
‘Any news, ring this number, or just come round.’
‘Tell her Daisy Love was asking for her.’