The Ascendant

Chapter Thirty-Six

I sat at the kitchen table reading the Sunday papers. U2 had won a Grammy for 'Beautiful Day' and there was talk was of a downturn in the economy. I would not be dragged down by the latter development: nursing a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a freshly rolled joint in the other, I was totally prepared for whatever the day might throw at me.

I put the joint back on the table, not wishing to rush anything today, and grabbed another section of newspaper. I had bought a decent range of papers, with enough news, analysis, culture, smut, gossip, celebrity tittle-tattle and horoscopes to comfortably see me through the morning and much of the afternoon.

Iain was the first to make his way down stairs and appeared in lively fashion around ten-thirty.

‘What are you up to today Ben?’

‘I just thought I’d chill out really Iain. Read the papers, smoke a J or two, drink some coffee, that sort of thing. How about yourself, any plans?’

‘I’m just of te the gym, sweat some of the shite out, ye ken?’

‘Sounds all right.’

‘And then … ,’ he moved closer, lowering his head in a conspiratorial manner, even though there was no-one else around to hear, ‘then, I’ve got a hot date. White hot in fact.’

‘Sounds promising. Where’d you meet her then?’

‘Over the Internet. One of the contact sites I frequent. All you have to do is log in, pay your five quid or something stupid like that, and you get to see all these feisty birds. It’s an agency I suppose. Very well organised. And this bird Ben, she’s fucking rabid I’m tellen yeh, you should see some of the stuff she gets up to. I’m meeting her in a pub on Kilburn High Road. I can get you logged-on if you fancy, there’s plenty to choose from.’

‘No, you’re all right Iain. Not today anyway, I’m going to take it easy.’

‘Fair enough,’ he said, picking up his gym bag, ‘I’ll see yis later maybe.’

‘Yeah, take it easy.’

As soon as he was gone I lit up the joint, trying to rediscover my equilibrium. It didn’t take long. A few pulls on my mild creation settled my spirits on a satisfyingly mellow level, and I got on with reading about Robbie Williams’s latest conquest.

Dawn was the next to rise about half an hour later. She walked into the kitchen wearing her dressing gown and slippers, apparently baring no ill-effects from her wine and (infinitesimal) intake of soup yesterday evening. She refilled my mug while she making a drink of her own and sat with me at the table, sifting through the newspapers until she found something suitable.

We sat and chatted for a while, mostly talking about how my cooking had faltered so pitifully. Dawn still found the episode hilarious, with the lasagne perceived as my coup de grace.

‘You didn’t try the mango and kiwi fruit salad,’ I said. ‘That was quite well made, I thought.’

‘Well it didn’t look too dangerous Ben, I’ll give you that. Do you fancy a walk down to Camden a little later? We could take a look round the markets.’

‘Could do. I don’t fancy doing anything strenuous but a stroll might be quite nice.’

‘It looks a nice day for it, certainly too nice to be stuck indoors. And I promise there will be nothing strenuous involved.’

‘Cool. Shall I roll one of these before we go?’, I asked.

‘Sure, but I’d better get showered and changed before I touch any of that. Otherwise we will be going nowhere.’ Dawn finished her coffee and headed upstairs.