Read Online Gazooka by Gwyn Thomas - Free Book Online Page A

of his lustful wanting, had been flattened and charred into madness. Cynlais, with a glare of one hundred per cent paranoia, told us to stop whispering or get out of his bedroom.
    Gomer went back to the bedside and shook Cynlais gravely by the hand.
    â€˜That’s a wonderful idea, Cyn,’ he said. ‘Come over to Tasso’s tomorrow night and we’ll talk it over. Do you think you can manage it?’
    Cynlais said at first that without some word of encouragement and hope from Moira Hallam he would never again leave that bedroom except to show the rent collector that he was not a subtenant. But we got him out of the bed and marched him around the room a few times, taking it in turns to catch him when his legs buckled. We all agreed that he would be able to do the trip to Tasso’s on the following evening with a few attendant helpers on his flank.
    Willie Silcox was in Tasso’s the next day. He was interested when we told him about our visit to Ephraim Humphries, and he made notes when he heard about the various quirks of body, face and thought we had noted in Humphries when we mentioned the Britannias.
    â€˜One of these nights,’ said Willie, ‘Humphries will draw a thick serge veil over the portrait of Cadman Humphries, the quarry owner whose eyes and brows keep Ephraim in a suit of glacial combinations, and he will slip forth into the darkened street, just like Jack the Ripper, but knifeless and bent on a blander type of mischief altogether than was Jack. And you say he’s going to foot the bill for a new band for Coleman? That will bring him closer to the physical reality of these carnivals and allow his senses a freer play. What is this new band going to be called?’
    â€˜The Meadow Prospect Toreadors, Willie. What do you think of that?’
    â€˜Very nice, very exotic. It will help to show what little is left of our traditional earnestness to the gate but good luck to you all the same. We are headed for an age of clownish callousness and we might as well have a local boy as stage hand in that pro cess as anyone else. These bullfighters will bring the voters an illusion of the sun and a strong smell of marmalade, both much needed.’
    Gomer turned to Mathew Sewell the Sotto who was putting Tasso’s teeth on edge by beating his tuning fork on the counter and bringing its pointed end sharply into play on the metal edge of the counter.
    â€˜What about the theme tune for these boys when Cynlais gets his new band started, Mathew? What do you suggest?’
    Sewell thought for a whole minute in silence, then brought his tuning fork across his teeth as if to bring his reflections to the boil.
    â€˜Something Spanish, of course,’ said Sewell, and Gomer told him to try his tuning fork on his teeth again to see if he could come out with something more cogent.
    â€˜Try to make it something operatic, Mr Sewell,’ said Cynlais Coleman, who had come in five minutes before wearing a long raincoat and the visor of his cap hiding the most significant parts of his face. It had taken some major wheedling to get him to shed this disguise. He sat now by the stove looking overt and edgy.
    â€˜What did you say?’ asked Gomer.
    â€˜Something operatic,’ said, Cynlais. ‘I want to show that Moira Hallam that I’m as cultured as Moelwyn Cox. What about that Toreador Song? That’s a treat. That was what Moelwyn made such a hit with. Let’s have that.’
    Mathew Sewell ignored Cynlais except for a short glance that told him to pick up his cap and get back out of sight.
    â€˜It will have to be something Spanish of course. There are strong affinities between Iberian music and our own and I don’t see why we shouldn’t exploit this. I can make it marks for you if ever I’m one of the judges. Did you know, Tasso, that we were once known as Iberian Celts?’
    Tasso said no very politely, but we could see from his mouth that he was tired of