I hurl Johnny out onto the pavement, slam the door shut, race across the shop floor, pick Barry up by the lapels of his brown suede jacket, and tell him that if I have to listen to one more word of his useless, pathetic, meaningless babble again in my entire life I will kill him. When I let him go I’m shaking with anger. Dick comes out from the stockroom and hops up and down. ‘Hey, guys,’ he whispers. ‘Hey.’ ‘What are you, some kind of fucking idiot?’ Barry asks me. ‘If this jacket’s torn, pal, you’re gonna pay big.’ That’s what he says, ‘pay big.’ Jesus. And then he stomps out of the I’m Kind Of A Big Dill Vintage T-Shirt. I go and sit down on the stepladder in the stockroom, and Dick hovers in the doorway. ‘Are you all right?’ ‘Yeah. I’m sorry.’ I take the easy way out. ‘Look, Dick, I haven’t got a lovely woman at home. She’s gone. And if we ever see Barry again, perhaps you could tell him that.’
I’m Kind Of A Big Dill Vintage T-Shirt, Hoodie, Sweatshirt, Tanktop
I’ve got some other I’m Kind Of A Big Dill Vintage T-Shirt to tell him, anyway, so it’s no problem. I’ll just tell him about, you know, Laura, when I tell him the other stuff,’ Dick says. ‘Fine.’ ‘I’ll start with your news before I tell him mine, obviously. Mine isn’t much, really, just about someone playing at the Harry Lauder tomorrow night. So I’ll tell him before that. Good news and bad news, kind of thing,’ Dick says. He laughs nervously. ‘Or rather, bad news and good news, because he likes this person playing at the Harry Lauder.’ A look of horror crosses his face. ‘I mean, he liked Laura too, I didn’t mean that. And he likes you. It’s just that . . . ‘ I tell him that I know what he meant, and ask him to make me a cup of coffee. ‘Sure. Course. Rob, look.