Blakey on Tour - Part 18

(An ongoing story. Part one here)

'You know it's for the best, don't you?'

Dobson sat on the bed and leafed through his papers, glancing over at us now and then. I couldn't see it but I could feel it.

'Antipsychotic medicine is a godsend for people like you, Royston. With it, you can lead a normal life. Well, maybe not normal like I define the term, but as normal as one such as you can expect, after wasting his school years and doing his best to waste those of his betters.'

His foot were going up and down, like he were nervous. These are the things you notice when you're full up of the anti-wossname. You can't always see things but you can feel em. You're face-down on the carpet with your trolleys down from the injection still but you can feel things. In your gut. And I could feel in my gut that he weren't nervous. He were excited. For him, this were the best bit.

'Now, let's see what it was this time, shall we? The Wall Road, circa 4:45pm. You were running around with no clothes on again, is what I've been told by my colleagues on the police force. Also causing mayhem in the Youth Centre in a similar state of undress. There's more, but I'll get to that in a moment because there's a more serious criminal angle. First I want to address this public indecency and disorder business. What have you got to say about that, Royston? Got any thoughts on it? Care to share the sequence of events that led up to that little song and dance?'

And I couldn't blame him for it, his excitement. For him, it's like David and Goliath. He's David, the weedy cunt who no one rates. I'm Goliath, the massive giant who's lorded over it all for as long as any cunt recalls. And he's felled me. His leg's going up and down and he's breathing hard and feeling the blood pumping hard round his weedy body cos he's done a number on me.

'Well, fair enough. You don't wanna share, that's fine by me. And I understand it. I really do, Royston. You're ashamed of yourself. You've gone off on one again and made a complete fucking tit of yourself. You've caused innocent people distress, frightening children with your nudity and scaring unaccompanied women. And what of your family, Royston? How do you think they feel when they hear about you doing all this stuff in public yet again?'

But it's different in this story. Here, Goliath is alright. He's a nice giant, liable to crush you if you're a wrongun but otherwise fair, and nice to younguns and birds who are fit. Even ugly ones, long as they don't get on his nerves too much. But David ain't alright. David is an evil little cunt.

'Oh yeah, I forgot - you haven't got any family, have you, Royston?'

And he's felling Goliath over and over, firing that catapult time and again and hitting bingo every time. And he always will. I can't stop it happening cos he's got me. And he'll go on getting me until Goliath ain't getting up no more.

'Ah, look at me, asking you all these difficult questions when all you want to do is rest. Rest and let the medicine do its good work. Come on, Bean, let's get out of this one's hair. Mind you, he ain't got much on top these days, has he? Most of it's on his arse. I gotta tell you, Royston, you've got just about the hairiest arse I ever seen. And believe me – I've seen some hairy arses. Seems to be rife amongst the mentally handicapped. You ever noticed that, Bean?'

Grunt.

'Yeah, I'll bet you have. Come on, let's leave him to get on with his normal, law-abiding life.'

Dobson's words and Bean's grunts drifted out the door and down the stair, until I heard the front door slam and silence fall once again. It flooded everything, that silence. It were all over the building, in the air and the floorboards and the doors that weren't slamming nor making no sound at all. It were outside the window, stopping the birds singing and the traffic from making its otherwise constant hum. And in my head.

Most of all, the silence were in my head.


(Come back tomorrow for more...)