there would even be a bunch of withered flowers to mark the spot. A tear ran down his cheek. I am very sad, he thought. A very sad man. Perhaps it was time to call time on it all.
Encore
‘How do you get a nun pregnant?’
Harry had never listened to the punchline to this joke because when he heard it on the backstage speaker it was his five-minute cue to make sure everything was in place for Barclay Jack’s exit, stage left. No bear to pursue him. Barclay Jack himself was the bear. As soon as he was off-stage he had to have a cigarette and a gin – three ice cubes, splash of tonic. (‘And I mean a splash, kid. The tonic just waves at the gin from a distance – capiche?’) Harry also had to have a clean towel ready for Barclay Jack to mop the sweat off his face (and his bald pate) and the make-up-remover wipes out. After that Barclay always had to have a burger. Harry had already slipped out and bought one and now it was reheating in the little microwave that the chorus girls kept in their dressing room, where they wandered around half-naked without any embarrassment. (‘Zip me up, Harry, will you?’) He was like a puppy to them, amusing and quite cute but utterly sexless. He sometimes dreamt about them at night, but not in a good way.
They were already queuing in the wings for the finale. Everyone complained about the curtain call, especially the chorus girls, as it wasn’t a proper finale and they had to hang around for most of the second half just to take a bow after a ten-second reprise of can-can kicks. Barclay Jack had insisted on it, said he wasn’t going to be alone on-stage at the end as if he had no friends. ‘But you have no friends, Barclay,’ Bunny said to him.
Harry joined the girls (women, really) in the wings, where they were jostling like a flock of giant restless birds, squashing him with their muscular, fishnetted legs – it wasn’t just the plumes in their headdresses and tails or their enormous eyelashes (almost as big as Bunny’s) that made him think of ostriches. They smelt ripe because their costumes only got dry-cleaned once a week. Their hair lacquer and make-up was industrial strength and gave off an odd chemical aura, like ozone.
‘Because a man will actually search for a golf ball!’ Barclay Jack yelled. Conversely, Harry had never heard the first line of this particular joke, not that he wanted to. One of the girls snorted with derision, even though she had heard the act dozens of times – Barclay’s set was the same every night, no changes, no variation. And he hated hecklers because he had no witty ripostes. It was funny, Harry thought, but for a comedian he seemed to have very little sense of humour. Harry liked jokes. He had lots of them. (‘Go on then, make me laugh,’ Barclay said. ‘What cheese would you use to disguise a horse?’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘Mascarpone. Get it? Mask a pony.’ ‘Jesus, kid, don’t give up the day job.’)
Just the iceberg-lettuce joke to go and it would be over. Even from here you could see the pearls of sweat on Barclay Jack’s face. He looked horribly unhealthy. From the opposite wing, Bunny, in full sequin mode, winked at Harry and made a rude gesture in the direction of Barclay Jack. Bunny was second on the bill, closing the first half of the show. He’d had a standing ovation tonight – his act finished on such a crescendo that sometimes the audience seemed unable to stop themselves leaping to their feet. Barclay fumed every time Bunny had a good show.
‘A man walks into a doctor’s surgery with a piece of lettuce hanging out of his arse!’ Barclay yelled. ‘And so the doctor says, “I’d better have a look, drop your trousers and bend over. Hm,” he says, “I see what you mean. It certainly looks as if you’ve got a problem there.” And the man says, “It’s just the tip of the iceberg, doctor.”’ The audience howled their approval.
‘That’s all, folks. Ladies and gentlemen, you have been a fucking brilliant audience, see you all again soon, I hope.’ Barclay Jack walked off-stage to rowdy applause before pirouetting in the wings and walking back out and taking a bow. The lights were killed before he’d got off-stage a second time, giving him no chance