Bright Young Things (24 page)

‘Yeah,’ says Jamie.

‘Exactly,’ says Emily. ‘Unless you count something like Prozac, but then that’s the happy and stupid drug thing again.’

‘That must be why we’re all so unhappy then,’ jokes Anne.

‘What would make you happy?’ Thea asks Paul.

‘Being here,’ he says enigmatically, in a kind of mumble.

‘Anyway,’ says Jamie, lighting another cigarette. ‘It’s your turn.’

‘Oh, yeah,’ says Paul. ‘Bryn.’

‘Truth,’ says Bryn. ‘I’m not going to make that mistake again.’

‘What’s the best drug you’ve ever done?’ Paul asks.

‘Crack,’ says Bryn, without hesitation. ‘Completely.’

‘You’ve done crack?’ says Emily.

‘Sure,’ he says. ‘Best fucking buzz in the world. Totally.’

‘Don’t you get addicted to it really easily?’ asks Jamie.

‘Yeah,’ says Bryn. ‘I was lucky not to get too sucked in.’

‘What happened?’ asks Thea.

‘What was it like?’ asks Emily.

‘It was amazing. The best feeling in the world.’

‘Better than an orgasm?’ says Jamie.

‘Yeah, totally.’

‘Better than winning the Lottery?’ asks Emily.

‘Probably,’ he says. ‘Although a crack-head would get a good feeling winning the Lottery, because he’d know he could spend all the money on rocks.’ He licks his lips. ‘It’s hard to know how to describe what it’s really like. It’s completely intense, but not anything like heroin. It’s a lot more like charlie, obviously, because it’s the cocaine base that you’re smoking anyway.’

‘What?’ says Jamie.

‘Cocaine that you buy is actually cocaine hydrochloride,’ explains Bryn. ‘Plus whatever other shit the dealer cuts it with, and his dealer cuts it with, and his dealer, and so on. You can make a chemical reaction take place using ammonia or bicarb or whatever, where you make the hydrochloride part separate off and burn away along with all the other crap. You’re left with rocks made of pure cocaine.’

‘And that’s all crack is?’ says Jamie.

‘Yeah,’ says Bryn. ‘So the buzz is kind of similar. But you don’t have to wait for it, it’s just completely instant. It makes you feel totally relaxed – like, the happiness and confidence of charlie without the nervousness and anxiety. You get this massive smile on your face. It’s like that feeling you get when you sneeze, but it doesn’t last for just one second. Mind you, it’s not as rushy as a sneeze, it’s more mellow, like just after you’ve come or something. In fact . . . you know when you laugh so hard that you think you’re going to wet yourself? Well, it’s just like that, but without the actual laughing or the pain in your stomach. It’s like being really thirsty and then drinking a huge glass of Coca Cola, or having a dump when you’ve been waiting for ages to get into the loo, or sitting down after you’ve been on your feet all day, or having a bag of chips by the seaside, or a cream cake after you’ve been on a diet for ages. Just pure pleasure.’

‘Sounds amazing,’ says Paul.

‘Totally,’ says Emily.

‘Why didn’t you become addicted?’ says Jamie.

‘Oh, I did,’ says Bryn. ‘Imagine feeling like I just described. You’d get addicted to it after just one puff. But I didn’t make it into what you’d call a habit, because I was lucky, and circumstances got in the way.’

‘How?’ asks Emily.

‘I was hanging around with these two blokes in Westcliff at the time. They were brothers. One of them was really into the whole reggae scene, like I was at the time. The other one was a coke dealer, a real hardcore bloke. They had five other brothers – no sisters – and all of them were in prison. My mate, Winston, he was pretty straight compared to the rest of them. His brother Steve was a nutter, and had just got out of prison. I’d never met him before, but I’d heard all about him. Anyway, we all went through a bit of a charlie phase, which was pretty easy with Steve being a dealer. We used to sit around Steve’s house before going out on a Friday night and just really cane it, doing line after line, while Steve saw all his Friday night customers. Then after that we’d usually go out to this club in Chelmsford that Steve’s mate owned. Steve always kept a bottle of ammonia in the cupboard for what he called ‘special occasions’, although at first I didn’t know what that meant.

‘We were round his all the time, like I say, and as well as all the customers, he had a couple of flatmates and some friends who used to hang around there as well. It was a really nice little scene – it wasn’t seedy or anything. It was pretty glamorous, in fact. We used to get really nice girls hanging about, although Steve always refused to sell them charlie. I don’t know why, he just always refused to sell to women. Anyway, one time he got his bottle of ammonia out and started making rocks. I asked what he was doing and he invited me upstairs and we had a smoke together. Then later, Winston came up and joined in. It was our first time doing it. Steve always wanted to keep it a secret between us three, and we only really smoked with him at first.’

‘Wow,’ says Emily. ‘So then what happened?’

Bryn shifts on the sofa. ‘I’d been doing it for two weeks straight, and I could tell it was fucking with my head. I’d always just sold weed, but I was contemplating going into business sorting people out with charlie. There was a lot of money in it, and as I seemed to have all these contacts through Steve, it looked like it could be a good business venture. When I say contacts, though, I don’t really mean blokes I could do business with, I just mean blokes who wouldn’t shoot me for doing a bit of business on their patch. That whole scene is fucking mental, but I understood it pretty well, and I thought I wouldn’t get into any trouble. So I’d already put in an order with Steve for half an ounce of charlie, which is a lot, and I was waiting for him to sort it out for me. But when he was on his way to see his man in London, him and Winston got picked up driving through Dagenham. When the police searched the car they found a load of charlie, plus some rocks that Steve had been dealing on the side, plus three firearms. They both got sent down.’

‘What did you do?’ asks Emily.

‘Nothing. Everyone knew I was mates with Winston and Steve, and for a while no one would even sell me any weed because they were sure the police were on to me as well and were just waiting to pick me up. When the police get hold of someone like me, they’re always trying to find the next bloke up in the chain. Since everyone thought I was going to get busted any minute, no one was prepared to be the next bloke up. I couldn’t score any drugs for weeks. As far as charlie went, I didn’t know any of the local blokes well enough to go to them direct for it. And in my heart I knew I wasn’t going to sell any of it. I knew I would have just rocked it all up and then smoked it myself. So in the end, it wasn’t my conscience that stopped me, or my common sense, just simple lack of availability.’

‘You were so lucky,’ says Thea. ‘You could be an addict right now.’

‘I know,’ says Bryn. ‘I’d probably be dead.’

‘Were you actually a drug dealer, then?’ says Jamie.

‘Yeah, mate,’ says Bryn. ‘Although it’s not such a big deal in Essex.’

‘Why?’

‘Everyone’s a dealer there.’

‘But it was just weed?’ says Emily.

‘Yeah. I hardly sold solid at all.’

‘Why not?’ asks Emily.

‘I was on the reggae scene,’ says Bryn, as if that explained it.

Emily stretches and pours another glass of wine.

‘Looks like it’s your turn then,’ she says to Bryn.

‘Right,’ he says. ‘Emily.’

‘Truth,’ she says.

‘What’s your biggest regret?’

‘My biggest regret?’ She thinks for a moment. ‘I’m not sure I have any regrets.’

‘Everyone says that,’ says Paul. ‘But it’s always a lie.’

‘You must have something,’ says Jamie.

‘Everyone regrets something,’ agrees Thea.

‘I don’t,’ says Anne.

‘I’m not sure I do, either,’ says Emily. ‘Except . . .’

‘What?’ Jamie virtually pounces on her.

‘It’s a bit depressing,’ she says.

Paul’s on to his third glass of wine. Emily’s telling some story about sleeping with a guy on holiday when she was sixteen, and some AIDS scare as a result of it. She doesn’t seem thrilled to be talking about it, and quickly moves on.

‘Anyway, it’s my turn now,’ she says, ‘and I pick Thea.’

‘Oh,’ says Thea. ‘Are you sure? I don’t really want to—’

‘You’re in now, girl,’ says Emily. ‘Truth or dare?’

‘Truth, I guess,’ says Thea, looking completely uncertain.

‘Who is the love of your life?’ Emily asks.

‘The love of my life?’

‘Yeah. The One.’

‘Have we just fallen into one of those city girl novels?’ asks Thea.

‘What?’ says Emily.

‘You know, all that crap about
The One
.’

‘What’s a city girl novel?’ asks Jamie.

‘You know,’ says Anne. ‘Bridget Jones.’

‘Load of shit,’ declares Paul. ‘I hate all that stuff.’

‘Most people do have a love of their life by the time they’re in their twenties,’ says Emily. ‘They don’t just make up all that stuff. It’s pretty true to life.’

‘Is it?’ says Jamie. ‘I haven’t ever been in love. Oh, except once when I was eight.’

‘That
so
doesn’t count,’ says Emily.

‘I’ve been in love,’ says Anne. ‘But only with characters in plays.’

‘OK, that doesn’t count either.’

Emily looks at Bryn. He shrugs and shakes his head.

She looks at Paul. ‘You?’

‘No way,’ he says. ‘I don’t even know what love is.’

‘How do you know you don’t know what love is?’ says Jamie.

‘All my girlfriends have told me. It’s my biggest failing, apparently.’

‘So who’s the love of your life?’ Anne asks Emily.

‘I haven’t got one either,’ she says. ‘But I just thought I was weird.’

‘See,’ says Thea. ‘All that stuff’s a load of shit.’

‘So there’s no big romance in your past?’ says Emily.

‘Nope,’ says Thea

‘Nothing we should know about?’

‘No. A couple of blokes who didn’t mean anything. One guy I thought I was in love with who turned out to be a twat. That’s it.’

‘God, you’re boring,’ says Paul. But he smiles, so she knows he doesn’t mean it.

‘Is it my turn to choose?’ Thea asks.

‘Yeah,’ says Emily.

‘Jamie. Truth or dare?’

‘Truth,’ says Jamie.

‘Do you like it here?’ asks Thea.

‘Is that your question?’ asks Jamie.

‘Yeah. Do you like it here?’

‘Yes. I think I do,’ he says.

‘Seriously?’ says Thea.

‘Yeah. It’s quite nice. I’ve never been part of a group before.’

‘He’s got a point,’ says Emily, smiling. ‘It is quite nice to be in a gang like this.’

‘It’s like
Dawson’s Creek
,’ says Anne, giggling. ‘Except there’s no creek.’

The atmosphere in the room is changing. It’s incredibly warm, and everyone’s a bit drunk – except for Anne presumably, since she isn’t drinking at all. The fear thing seems to have gone, or if it’s still here it’s that sexy, kids’-ghost-story way. It’s McFear with fries, and it’s even making Paul tingle.

‘Anne,’ says Jamie. ‘Truth or dare?’

‘Truth,’ she says.

‘Are you really a virgin?’ he asks.

‘Of course,’ she says.

‘For real?’ says Thea.

‘Yes.
God
. It’s not that hard to believe, is it?’

‘Anne,’ says Emily, ‘you’re a babe.’

‘She’s right,’ says Bryn.

Jamie nods. ‘That’s why we find it so hard to believe.’

‘Well, it’s true,’ she says, looking flattered. ‘Anyway. My turn.’

‘Who’s it going to be?’ asks Jamie.

‘Emily,’ she says. ‘Truth or dare?’

‘Truth,’ says Emily.

‘OK,’ says Anne. ‘Do you masturbate, and if so, how often?’

This is the kind of question Paul likes. He’s interested again now. Truth or Dare is supposed to really put people on the spot, not just encourage a group therapy session. And Emily strikes Paul as exactly the kind of girl who’s at it all the time, but who never ever admits it.

‘Do you?’ Emily says back to Anne.

‘She asked you,’ says Paul.

‘Um . . .’ Emily goes a bit pink. ‘Yeah.’

‘How often?’ asks Anne.

She cringes. ‘Um, about once a week if I haven’t got a boyfriend.’

‘What if you have?’

‘What? Got a boyfriend? I make him do it.’

‘Is it the same?’ asks Anne. ‘I mean, with someone else doing it?’

‘No,’ says Emily. ‘It’s different. If they’re good at it, it’s better. If they’re shit, then it’s much much worse and you usually end up having to do it yourself anyway.’