Chapter 9

Linda lay back on the divan at Sam's place. The music of the record player filled the air soothingly and she breathed deeply, contentedly.

"And then what happened...? " Sam was saying from his reclining position on the floor.

"Then he gave me my taxi fare and said that if there was one thing he abhorred it was meanness about trifles." She laughed at her recollection. "And then the other one scowled and said, 'If you're mean about trifles the big things look after themselves'-whatever he meant by that."

"They certainly sound a crazy bunch of birds."

She and Sam laughed for several seconds over her description of what had happened during her night of prostitution. They were both very happy on horse and they had enough money not to have to go short again, even if Sam hadn't any money coming for a long time.

"I'm surprised they didn't quibble when it came to handing over the dough," Sam said. "But I guess you gave them such a good time."

"I don't think the money really meant anything to them."

"Boy, you should keep in with those guys-give them this phone number or something."

"Oh yeah. It's all very well for you-you didn't have to look at their scraggy old flesh, to say nothing of the rest. And they made me so sore, all over the place. I felt really weak when I left this morning."

Sam lay back and put his hands behind his head, tittering.

"What a life," he said. "What a crazy life!"

They grew silent, just listening to the music, feeling wonderful.

It certainly had been a crazy life for her since she and Betty had got themselves picked up by Des and Jim, she thought. She had grown up about ten years in a couple of months. She closed her eyes. It was a better life too; cut loose from all the old worries and dissatisfactions, freed from the need for love. But, of course, she did feel the need for love when she was off horse. Still, that didn't make any difference to the complete satisfaction she felt while she was turned on.

What would happed, she wondered, if you stayed turned on all the time. You'd kill yourself. And why not? "The paths of glory lead but..." That bit of verse they'd had at school put it all in the right perspective. Dying of alcohol, too much exercise, old age-what was the difference after all except a span of time. But then you had to have enough money to get it; you had to be sure you could get it; and you didn't have to have a job or have to go to school, or you'd probably find you couldn't concentrate on the work. That was the trouble: having to go to school. How many weeks was it now? If it weren't for that she'd gladly take horse all the time until it killed her-just for the sake of enjoying every moment of her life, short though it might be.

God, she thought with a smile, I'm getting quite philosophical. She'd heard that horse was a stimulant to the intellectual powers over a period.

"Sam..."

"Yeah."

"You don't have a job, do you."

"Don't need one. Someone sends me some money."

"Do you take horse all the time?"

"Nearly all the time. I get depressed when I'm without."

"And what do you do all the time?"

"Mostly what we're doing now: listen to the music, lie and just enjoy." He grinned up at her. "And I fuck a bit."

"Don't you ever wish you had a job or were interested actively in something?"

"Me? No. Where does it all get you? A lot of worry, meanness, hatred, occasionally a bit of happiness and kindness and it's all working towards its own extinction. Nothing's much use. Everybody's trying to find the best way to enjoy their life. I've found mine."

"Don't you sometimes think it's sort of artificial getting your happiness the way we do?"

"Christ, what's got into you? For all we know everything's artificial. I'm not religious."

Linda lay silent. She still had thirty of the forty pounds they'd given her. There had been a time when she'd have rushed out and bought clothes or maybe a record player of her own or any number of things. But now she didn't feel the slightest desire to do anything of the kind. It didn't interest her at all. Why should it when horse made it all so unnecessary and rather ridiculous? It had shocked her that she hadn't wanted to spend the money and she had wondered what had happened to her, where she was going.

But it was probably true what Sam said. She knew that she felt very superior to people who rushed about trying to get things done, to improve things, improve themselves. What a waste of time! But there was school. In a few weeks' time term started and she couldn't stand the thought of it. It would be too much for her and such a bore. She wished she were like Sam, without any obligations or functions to perform in society.

There was a ring at the doorbell and after a long pause Sam got up and went out to the door. She heard the opening of the door, his murmur of recognition and welcome, the sound of footsteps along the passage.

She looked up and it was so long since she'd seen Des that her heart jumped a little as he came in.

"Hi," he said. "Betty told me you'd be here; thought I'd see how you were."

"Hello, Des," she said quietly. "Come and have some horse."