Black Chalk

Jack raised his finger to silence the interruption. ‘She does not like the truth but truth must out,’ he said. ‘Giles has red hair and freckles and they have children four, all ginger sons. Giles in his spare time is a Mick Jagger impersonator and his band is named the Rolling Clones. And what a merry band they are, the most in-demand Rolling Stones impersonators at all the weddings taking place within a thirty-five-mile radius of the city of Winchester. For three years running.’ Everyone was laughing except for Emilia, her folded arms stiffening. ‘At forty years of age,’ said Jack, ‘Emilia wonders why she never made use of her psychology degree. She volunteers as a prison visitor and develops a dubious rapport with one prisoner in particular. Inside of jail he is known by a single moniker. Gash. Aargh, put out my eyes again, for Gash is none other than Chad.’ Jack closed his eyes and then opened them again. ‘The vapours have passed now,’ he said.

‘You’re such an arsehole, Jack.’

‘What? It’s a way better future than mine,’ said Jack, and then his eyes drifted back to his globe. ‘Yes, it is Jack I now see before me, the handsome funny one. Forty years of age and still with youthful hair and striking bones of cheek. Yes, Majestic Jack, such a success in whatever his chosen career happens to be. Film scripts probably, insightful comedies. Oscars two or three I see. And everything else he ever wanted from life. Money, a beautiful wife, the perfect family. But most importantly of all, the intellectual self-esteem that comes from being a far greater success in life than all of his friends.

‘But what is this I see now? A catch. Oh no, Jack, no. He has everything he ever desired and yet life still presses heavily upon him. Yes, Majestic Jack soon discovers that his cynicism for every last shit-scrap of the world stemmed not from any material lack in his life. No, instead Jack’s cynicism stemmed from one thing alone. A singular inability to be happy. Poor Jack, for he discovers that he has a heart yet cannot feel, he is the Tin Man in reverse,’ he wailed. ‘Storm clouds gather. I see Majestic Jack slide headlong into the kind of sordid midlife crisis for which he once despised so many dismal middle-aged men, not least his fathers, two.’

Dee wiped fake tears from her eyes. ‘Oh, stop it, Jack,’ she said, ‘you’re breaking my heart here.’

Jack continued, his croak filling with sadness, his words slowing down. ‘Success brings to Majestic Jack nothing more than misery and the cruellest loathing of self.’

‘No, Jack, no,’ cried Dee. ‘I’ll be nice to you, I promise. I’ll laugh at all your jokes. I’ll write you happy stories and teach the mockingbird to sing your name.’

‘The vapours have passed,’ said Jack. He looked intensely proud of himself. ‘So you see, Emilia, you get off lightly in the long turning of life’s bitter wheel.’

‘Well, I disagree with everything you’ve said so far,’ Emilia snorted. ‘I think we’re all going to be happy and successful and go wherever we want in life. We’re young and we’re smart and I think everyone here is just great. Even you, Jack. Just occasionally.’

‘Maybe you’re right, Em,’ said Jack. ‘What the fuck do I know, right?’

And then there fell a brief silence. Chad looked at Jolyon and wondered if he too was thinking this had been a mistake, the revealing of a weakness to his opponents. Jolyon returned the look with a small shrug.

‘Come on then, Jack,’ said Dee. ‘You know you want to.’

‘Want to what?’ said Jack, acting confused.

‘Want to perform your little trick on me. Let’s just get this over with.’

‘No, you’re too easy, Dee. You’ve already written your own future. After completing your five hundredth poem you’re going to commit suicide, aren’t you?’

‘So you keep reminding me, Jackie-oh.’

‘Please address the oracle by her birth name,’ said Jack. ‘Her cognomen is Psychic Fucking Sue.’ Jack lowered his eyes. ‘I do not know this Jackie-oh,’ he said. ‘Though I see you speak of him with tones of hate deployed to hide your sexual love.’

Dee sighed and mimed a swoon. ‘Will no one rid me of this turbulent Jack?’