chapter twenty‑eight

He awoke to the sound of footsteps on the stairs; he sat up on the bed feeling much better, but very hungry and tremendously thirsty.

"Any luck?" he called.

"It certainly looks that way," said a horribly unforgettable man as he stepped into the room, "I've finally caught you at home."

"You!" exclaimed Andrew his back pressed firmly against the headboard of the bed.

"Me what?" asked the man standing, threateningly, in the doorway.

"You, you, you ... assassin," stuttered Andrew.

"Not if you, you, you behave yourself," mocked the man.

"Just take what you want, and stop wasting my time." Unfortunately the quaver in Andrew's voice ruined the effect of the brave words.

"Half a jar of stuffed olives is not my idea of a rewarding day's work."

"Isn't there any pineapple left?"

"I'm not interested in food," snapped the man. "I wonder," he continued, grinning maliciously, "if you've ever considered the advantage, to you and your family, of a home reference library."

"What!" said Andrew, bewildered by the unexpected twist in the conversation.

"I'm talking about a complete, high‑quality, forty‑eight volume, leather‑bound set of the most up‑to‑date encyclopedias that money can buy."

"You broke into my house to sell me encyclopedias!"

"I didn't break in; you invited me in."

"I certainly did not!"

"Look, let's not quibble about incidentals," said the man as he pulled a large metal bar from the inside of his coat. "Think how useful this priceless mine of information will be when your children rush home from school shouting; Daddy, Daddy, how many quarks make five? You wouldn't want to appear ignorant in front of your adoring children, would you?" the man slapped the bar into the palm of his other hand.

"Um, er, I don't have any children," protested Andrew feebly.

"Now what did I say about incidentals?" said the man taking a step towards the bed.

"Oh yeah," said Andrew hurriedly, "um, well how much will it cost?"

"Now you know that's the wrong question, don't you," said the man patronizingly. "You should have asked; How much will I save?"

"Oh yeah, okay."

"Well?" growled the man malevolently.

"Sorry, how much will I save?"

"That's a very good question, I'm glad you asked me that. Of course the benefit to you and your loved ones is immeasurable, but on top of that you will also save a fortune on hospital fees. But I can see that you're a down‑to‑earth, brass‑tacks, practical kind of fellow, so let's look at the figures. The entire forty‑eight volume, high‑quality, leather‑bound, completely up‑to‑date, collector's, limited edition, encyclopedic package will cost you no more than two thousand Credits. Now you may think that's a ridiculously low price to pay for the whole of mankind's accumulated knowledge with detailed diagrams and full colour photographs. Well, you'd be right. But there's more: our easy‑payment scheme means that you can take delivery of this magnificent addition to your home right now, but allows you to pay over a period of ten years - a mere fifty Credits a month. Compare that with the hospital fees for two broken legs, multiple crushed ribs and a cracked jaw - which comes to a staggering three thousand Credits. That represents an immediate saving of one thousand Credits!"

"It's an offer that's hard to refuse."

"And you're not going to, are you?" said the man looking as if he had an overwhelming desire to commit some gratuitous violence. "Because you're a snivelling, yellow‑bellied coward."

"No," said Andrew - he made a point of never arguing with anyone who had obviously done an advanced course in character analysis.

"Pity," said the man tossing a contract and a pen onto the bed.

Andrew picked up the pen and signed the bottom of the paper with a shaky signature.

"Now ..." said the man with a demonic grin, "let's talk about double glazing."

Several hours later Alice returned to the flat. She found Andrew still sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard; he was staring resolutely at his feet and clutching a large wad of papers to his chest. He hugged the papers with both arms, like a child with a teddybear. His face had the incredulous look of someone whose brand‑new car has just been flattened by an unusually large meteorite, an event expressly excluded from the 'Fully Comprehensive' cover.

"My god! What happened?" said Alice, concerned by Andrew's insensible state.

Andrew said nothing, but reverently handed the papers to Alice. Alice took them, studied the first one for some moments and then rapidly flicked through the others.

"Jesus, Andrew! It says here that you have bought a set of encyclopedias, double glazing, a set of toilet brushes - in pastel shades, a do‑it‑yourself sausage making machine, a two hundred and fifty piece set of animal figurines hand carved out of shark's teeth, a set of teaspoons depicting favourite fossils of the Pleistocene era, a swimming‑pool in the shape of a naked woman and a life‑time subscription to Reader's Digest."

Andrew nodded dumbly. Alice was herself at a loss for words and for a while could do nothing more than pace the floor angrily brandishing the contracts. Minutes later she calmed herself enough to speak.

"How the hell ...? Why on earth ...? What in heaven's name ...?" her voice trailed off, along with her line of questioning, into space.

"Actually, I didn't buy it all - the toilet brushes were a free gift because I was their ten thousandth customer," said Andrew petulantly.

This revelation was enough to render Alice speechless again, this time for a much longer period. Her pacing widened its extent to cover most of the house, and her brandishing expanded to encompass battering Andrew repeatedly about the head with the rolled‑up papers. Eventually she collapsed, exhausted, onto the bed. Andrew took advantage of her weakened disposition to explain the full story.

"Well okay, I suppose," said Alice grudgingly. "But couldn't you have, at least, bought something useful - like toilet paper."

"He wasn't selling anything useful," said Andrew morosely.

"Well just don't pay the bills."

"Then I go to debtor's prison and I have to work there until I've paid off all the companies involved."

"But surely a contract signed under duress is not legally binding."

"It's just my word against his, as he put it; who is the court going to believe? A hard working salesman or an idiot who buys a swimming‑pool when he doesn't even have a garden."

"I'm not sure that I follow your logic there, but then I don't suppose he would have done it if he knew he'd be caught."

Andrew was beginning to feel a little better. He had interpreted the cessation of blows to the head as a sign of sympathy from Alice - not much of a sign, but it seemed to be all he would get, so he made the most of it. He knew there was no hope of making the first repayment, a stunning eighteen hundred Credits, and so had begun to speculate about the conditions in a debtor's prison as opposed to those encountered on the run. Alice had fallen asleep, utterly drained by her hard day at work and her anger at Andrew's vulnerability.

A couple of hours later, Andrew had formulated a plan to escape to the coast. He would sleep on the beach, and beachcomb for money that had been lost in the sand by the wealthy holiday‑makers. There were still a few details missing, such as how he would get to the coast and where the coast actually was, but he felt these were minor problems which could be solved on the way.

Alex arrived home from work, and Andrew explained the need for a change of scene. As Andrew told the long, and now rather embellished, story, Alex's reactions swung from amusement to disbelief, then to anger, back to amusement, and finally resorted to stoicism. Their conversation was interrupted by Alice, who began shouting in her sleep.

"You slime‑ball! You disgusting lump of putrefying vomit!" she shouted passionately. "You maggot‑ridden pile of stinking diarrhea! You ... oh hello," she finished, suddenly aware of her surroundings.

Andrew and Alex exchanged nervous glances.

"It's all right; I wasn't talking to you; I was dreaming about work and I didn't want to miss out on the best bit."

"You evidently have a magnificent working relationship with your boss. Have you thought about marrying him?" asked Alex, once he had recovered from the torrent of abuse which he had initially assumed was aimed at him.

"That's for the customers, not the boss, who - I know this will amaze you - happens to be a woman."

"I don't suppose you get too many regulars with that kind of sophisticated sales patter," said Alex.

"No, a couple of hours of that and I don't normally see them again."

"Exactly what kind of business are you in?" asked Andrew, having taken somewhat longer to recover than Alex.

"I work for an Assertiveness Training school. The first stage of the course is to videotape the students being turned into quivering wrecks. That's my job. We put them in a small padded cell, then I pile on the personal abuse through a loudspeaker. It's great fun and very creative; it's a real challenge to think up new insults."

"I can't say that I approve of that," said Andrew.

"It's good for them. When they see themselves on the video they realize how pathetic they are, then it's easier to brainwash them with the other stages of the course."

"I don't mean that; I don't approve of you creating more assertive people. There are too many about all ready. Just think what would happen if everyone went around asserting themselves - it would be hell."

"Yeah," agreed Alex. "Imagine a world populated with Olives."

They all shuddered at the ghastly vision.

"I don't suppose anyone got any food?" said Andrew hopefully.

Alice shook her head sadly.

"I really don't know what you two would do without me," said Alex smugly. "Fear not, I have provided a feast fit for Kings - well, fit for deposed Kings at least."

"How did you manage that? I thought you wouldn't be paid until next week," asked Andrew.

"The manager at the supermarket had to leave early so he left me to lock up."

"You stole from your own shop! Have you no shame? What happened to the store detectives' code of ethics? How could you sink so low? What did you get?" said Alice.

"Just tins, I'm afraid; all the fresh stuff was locked up in the fridge out the back."

"I've decided to go to the coast," announced Andrew.

"What kind of tins?" asked Alice eagerly.

"I'm going to live on the beach."

"There's a big tin of ham, some mushrooms, asparagus,"

"I'll live off the lost jewelry and money I find in the sand."

"new potatoes, baby carrots, baked beans,"

"I'll sleep under the stars and wash in the ocean."

"I've got some biscuits and a big tin of fruit‑cocktail."

"I'll collect empty bottles for the refund."

"Anything to drink?"

"I'll catch fish and cook them on an open fire."

"Of course, a large bottle of whisky."

"I'll make seaweed soup and eat fresh shellfish."

"And for the ultimate in decadent living,"

"Of course I'll have to get some fresh fruit to ward off the scurvy."

"Toilet paper!"

"But I can buy that with the money I find in the sand."

"Well done! Do you think we should ration it?"

"Ration the toilet paper!" said Andrew unable to ignore the other conversation any longer.

"No, the food, silly," said Alice.

"To hell with tomorrow," said Alex jumping melodramatically to his feet, "let's live for today!"

"Well said!" cried Alice gaily, "I'll start cooking."

When she had left the room Alex turned to Andrew. "Now then, what's all this about a holiday?"

While they ate they discussed the merits of a change in location. After a long debate, which grew more and more incoherent as the whisky bottle grew less and less full, they decided to leave for the coast on the following day. Andrew and Alice would collect their money from the Body Shop and Alex would do his best to raise some money by sub‑letting the flat to a poor innocent mug, or preferably a rich guilty mug.

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