his jacket; someone else offered me a line of white powder chopped out on the table but actually I didn’t want it. Lena was so out of it she was crawling on the floor, laughing in her knickers and bra, occasionally barking like a dog, much to the hilarity of various bystanders.
‘That was full on, wasn’t it?’ a dishevelled boy said to James, his eyes like saucers, his nose streaming from the drug he’d just snorted.
James lit a cigarette. ‘Too busy having my own fun, mate.’ He kissed my shoulder and I smiled decadently. ‘What was?’
‘When the girl started to come round.’
‘What girl?’ I said.
‘The druggie. She was about to change her mind, I swear.’
My stomach plunged, and I felt icy. ‘Change her mind?’
‘Yeah. She changed her mind for a minute there.’ The boy looked dazed, a little rueful, perhaps. ‘But Dalziel soon sorted her out.’
‘What do you mean?’ I looked around for my coat. ‘What does that mean?’
‘He sorted her some more smack. She was OK in the end. Could have been ugly, though, couldn’t it?’
‘Ugly?’ I intoned stupidly. I wanted to leave now.
‘Yeah. Less adultery. More like …’ He glanced round nervously.
‘More like what?’ James prompted.
‘You know what I mean. More like rape. Specially with bloody Brian.’
‘Brian?’
‘Azazel. The goat-demon. Very apt. He gets out of control, that boy. Dalziel wants to watch that.’ The boy zipped his trousers up. ‘That’s the trouble with oiks.’
I thought of the girl, all floppy and blank, and I winced. I thought of my little room in the halls of residence and all my things there, even the green lampshade from home, and I wanted to be there now.
‘Do you think she’s all right?’ I asked the boy, and he shrugged.
‘Happy as Larry last time I saw her. Once she’d stopped crying and the new smack kicked in.’
I grabbed James’s hand. ‘Can we go?’ I asked him. ‘Please. Now.’
We left.
‘God, I’m freezing,’ I said out in the street. ‘I can’t warm up.’
James put his arm round me, and we went back to my room and I stripped off and put on my pyjamas, socks, my warmest jumper, but still I was freezing. He held me as we listened to Massive Attack and got into my single bed, drinking tea and talking into the dawn. We didn’t mention Huriyyah but I knew we were both thinking of her. And somehow, James never left.
In the cold light of day I didn’t feel so proud of my behaviour, in fact I felt ashamed.
‘So that was Society X?’ I asked James as we walked into Brown’s coffee-shop the next day.
‘Yes, it was. Just for the privileged few,’ he said – which apparently included me now. James explained that it was Dalziel’s brainchild, his pet project. Was I a pet? I saw myself out in the garden half-dressed; I kept thinking of the girl’s vacant face and her eyes that were so glazed and unseeing. I didn’t understand what had got into me. Apart from James, and illegal substances, of course. I felt strange. Somehow different – and older.
It was all about breaking the Ten Commandments apparently, James explained, hence X, the Roman numeral for ten. Dalziel was writing a dissertation on it for his theology module, James said, and he apparently wanted to prove that you can have free will and choice and still live in the confines of civilised life but outside organised religion. It all sounded very peculiar to me – far more about decadence and doing exactly what you liked than any aspect of religion. And although there was a part of me that was hugely flattered by Dalziel’s attentions, the truth was, last night was beginning to feel more than a little sordid. I had enjoyed the Ecstasy at the time but it scared me too; how consumed I felt whilst I was on it. Society X felt dangerous and exciting, but also out of my league entirely. Over the next few weeks, it began to feel nasty and puerile too.
I made a few enquiries about Huriyyah but no one seemed to know her. I scanned the
‘That was full on, wasn’t it?’ a dishevelled boy said to James, his eyes like saucers, his nose streaming from the drug he’d just snorted.
James lit a cigarette. ‘Too busy having my own fun, mate.’ He kissed my shoulder and I smiled decadently. ‘What was?’
‘When the girl started to come round.’
‘What girl?’ I said.
‘The druggie. She was about to change her mind, I swear.’
My stomach plunged, and I felt icy. ‘Change her mind?’
‘Yeah. She changed her mind for a minute there.’ The boy looked dazed, a little rueful, perhaps. ‘But Dalziel soon sorted her out.’
‘What do you mean?’ I looked around for my coat. ‘What does that mean?’
‘He sorted her some more smack. She was OK in the end. Could have been ugly, though, couldn’t it?’
‘Ugly?’ I intoned stupidly. I wanted to leave now.
‘Yeah. Less adultery. More like …’ He glanced round nervously.
‘More like what?’ James prompted.
‘You know what I mean. More like rape. Specially with bloody Brian.’
‘Brian?’
‘Azazel. The goat-demon. Very apt. He gets out of control, that boy. Dalziel wants to watch that.’ The boy zipped his trousers up. ‘That’s the trouble with oiks.’
I thought of the girl, all floppy and blank, and I winced. I thought of my little room in the halls of residence and all my things there, even the green lampshade from home, and I wanted to be there now.
‘Do you think she’s all right?’ I asked the boy, and he shrugged.
‘Happy as Larry last time I saw her. Once she’d stopped crying and the new smack kicked in.’
I grabbed James’s hand. ‘Can we go?’ I asked him. ‘Please. Now.’
We left.
‘God, I’m freezing,’ I said out in the street. ‘I can’t warm up.’
James put his arm round me, and we went back to my room and I stripped off and put on my pyjamas, socks, my warmest jumper, but still I was freezing. He held me as we listened to Massive Attack and got into my single bed, drinking tea and talking into the dawn. We didn’t mention Huriyyah but I knew we were both thinking of her. And somehow, James never left.
In the cold light of day I didn’t feel so proud of my behaviour, in fact I felt ashamed.
‘So that was Society X?’ I asked James as we walked into Brown’s coffee-shop the next day.
‘Yes, it was. Just for the privileged few,’ he said – which apparently included me now. James explained that it was Dalziel’s brainchild, his pet project. Was I a pet? I saw myself out in the garden half-dressed; I kept thinking of the girl’s vacant face and her eyes that were so glazed and unseeing. I didn’t understand what had got into me. Apart from James, and illegal substances, of course. I felt strange. Somehow different – and older.
It was all about breaking the Ten Commandments apparently, James explained, hence X, the Roman numeral for ten. Dalziel was writing a dissertation on it for his theology module, James said, and he apparently wanted to prove that you can have free will and choice and still live in the confines of civilised life but outside organised religion. It all sounded very peculiar to me – far more about decadence and doing exactly what you liked than any aspect of religion. And although there was a part of me that was hugely flattered by Dalziel’s attentions, the truth was, last night was beginning to feel more than a little sordid. I had enjoyed the Ecstasy at the time but it scared me too; how consumed I felt whilst I was on it. Society X felt dangerous and exciting, but also out of my league entirely. Over the next few weeks, it began to feel nasty and puerile too.
I made a few enquiries about Huriyyah but no one seemed to know her. I scanned the
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