The Book of Dave (65 page)

Carl didn't feel Dave's presence in the sigh of the autumnal wind through alder, birch or poplar. The London that spread out
below them might have been impressive to a visitor – to a native it was mundane. Later father and son went out, the two intent
on escaping the
bad vibe.
There in the road, pulled over to the kerb, was a Knowledge Boy on a scooter; or rather, a Knowledge Man, because when he
pushed his full-face crash helmet up on his head to speak to them Carl saw that he was older than Dave would have been – had
he lived – for another decade. 'Oi, guv,' he said, addressing Cal, 'can I get froo to Well Walk dahn vis way?' Cal looked
uncomprehending – but Carl, whose Knowledge was far fresher, patiently explained to the
sad old loser
that he'd have to work his way back round via New End and Christ Church Hill. 'Ve streets on vis manna iss awl tangled up
lyke bluddë spaghetti,' the wizened Knowledge Boy said, before he farted off on his bike.

They were walking down Heath Street when Cal asked, 'Have you ever considered it – doing the Knowledge, I mean?' Carl didn't reply immediately
– not out of surliness, only because it often took a while for messages from the outside world to make it over the high wall,
to where he crouched, hidden inside his secret mummyself. Eventually he climbed up and over to the daddy side and replied,
'Nah, t'be honest I'm kind of interested in being a lawyer – there's gotta be more of a future in it.'