Black Chalk

Jolyon lit himself another cigarette and dragged hard. He began shaking and shaking his head so that the smoke came out in ripples. ‘It’s women, Chad,’ he said. ‘It’s different rules.’

‘No, Jolyon, I’ll tell you exactly why you did it. It’s because you have to be the big man, the top frickin horn-dog.’

‘I have absolutely no idea what you mean.’

‘Alpha Jolyon and everyone else, the whole secret clan, has to bend to his will.’

‘That’s utter bullshit, Chad.’

‘Really? Then tell me why. Tell me why you would do that. And don’t give me that different rules BS.’

Jolyon blew his smoke carefully from the side of his mouth. ‘OK then, I slept with Dee because I could, Chad, that’s why. Just because I could.’

Chad snorted. ‘That’s pathetic, Jolyon. You could. And that’s it? And I suppose I couldn’t. That’s what you’re trying to imply, is it?’

Jolyon sighed. ‘Chad, whatever self-worth issues you have going on here have got nothing to do with me. Go tell a shrink how your dad never loved you, blah boring blah, and leave me the fuck out of it. You’re behaving like a bitter, spiteful little kid. And I’ve always tried my best with you, introduced you to all these people, and the rest of it is your problem now. I wash my hands.’

‘My God, you arrogant prick.’ Chad pressed his fingertips to his temples. ‘Who on earth do you think you are? My frickin messiah? Go to hell.’

Jolyon’s lips vanished, his mouth barely a slit in the flesh of his face. ‘I’ve had enough of this,’ he said. ‘I’ve got more than enough to worry about without having to play nanny to all your immature insecurities, Chad. If you really need someone to shout at, why don’t you just go home to Mitzy and spill all this pent-up rage over her.’

‘And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?’ Chad’s voice was unleashed now, other people in the pub began noticing them.

‘Go home, wait for Mitzy to make one of her virgin cracks and then stand up to her for once. And don’t take it out on me any more. Go back to your own people, shout at Mitzy, fuck Mitzy, either or both, I truly don’t give a shit.’

Chad frowned furiously. ‘How do you know about Mitzy? I haven’t mentioned her to you in weeks.’

Jolyon slumped back theatrically in his chair. ‘How do you think I know, Chad? Dee told me. She told me in bed. Is that what you want to hear? That I fucked Dee and held her and we whispered sweet nothings in each other’s ears? Because that’s what people do after they’ve fucked, they tell their secrets to each other. Maybe you should try it some time, Chad, the fucking I mean. And then you won’t have to share all your tales of woe with me night after night after over and over . . .’ Jolyon’s voice trailed away wearily while he shooed Chad away with a dismissive wave.

Chad’s body was rigid. He stared hard at Jolyon while he thought what to do. And then, studiously, he stood up and walked slowly to the bar. When he returned to the table he had only a single drink. He sipped from the pint, stared at Jolyon and said nothing.

After perhaps a minute, Jolyon also got to his feet and went to the bar. And when he returned, he too had bought a single drink from which he took only the barest of sips.

And they sat there in their silences, Chad and Jolyon, waiting each other out. Chad’s body was stiff, like a boy determined not to lose a staring contest, but Jolyon seemed loose and relaxed. Sitting at a nearby table were six or seven students in boat-club hoodies, loud and laughing at everything. Jolyon smoked another cigarette and then another and barely touched his drink.

Fifteen minutes later Chad finished the half a pint that was left in his glass in one gulp. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shook his head bitterly. He stood up, waited a few seconds, and left.

LIV(v) The table at which Jolyon was sitting was beside a wall – or not so much a wall as a short partition, the pub was full of nooks and holes and hidden snugs. There were black-and-white photographs on the wall. There was one of the Queen, fifteen years younger. She was standing behind the bar of the Churchill, the landlord showing her how to pour a pint of beer.

Jolyon looked at the photo, drank half his pint in one go and let out a deep breath. And then, from the other side of the wall, Mark appeared.

He took the seat opposite Jolyon. ‘And to the victor the spoils,’ said Mark, smiling gleefully. He pointed to Jolyon’s glass. ‘Can I freshen you up?’

‘What do you want, Mark?’

‘We’re best friends now, aren’t we?’ said Mark. ‘I mean, we spend all this time together. And I’m enjoying our law lectures so much, I think I might put in a request to change courses. Maybe I’m like Chad and secretly I want to be just like you, steal all your best bits. Anyway, after what just took place I’m your only remaining candidate for best friend. So why shouldn’t I buy you a congratulatory pint?’

‘To congratulate me on what exactly?’