and dynamic.’
‘So you’ve not done so well in England, Mr Cranium?’
‘I tell you something, Mr Man. Before I leave home five years ago, I dream that one day I have a lovely wife, three lovely children and a lot of money.’ Here he pulled out some snapshots from his hip. ‘Well, I got the lovely wife, the beautiful children too, as you can see, but, man, that loot just fails to come my way.’
This gave me a wonderful idea.
‘What you require,’ I said to Cranium, ‘is contacts in the highest type of Jumble high-life. Well, tonight this lady here and I are going to a most special voodoo party, and why don’t you come along with us and play some numbers that will win you good engagements?’
Cuthbertson thought this was a rare idea, full of brilliant possibilities; but Theodora was not pleased to hear I planned to take her to a party without asking her approval. As I waited for the club to close, I had to surmount all her oppositions by pouring gins in heavy sequence down her throat.
The address that Tamberlaine the West Indian had given me was in the fashionable area of that Marble Arch: but there’s fashion and there’s fashion, and none of us quite expected such a glorious block of similar flats. The doorman examined our little group, especially Cranium’s combination, carrying their instruments, and would possibly have been an obstacle if Theodora (who has just that haughty way some Jumble ladies use back home to drive our people mad with hatred) hadn’t kicked him round the hallway with her tongue, and got us all into a lift built to hold only five. The boys rubbed up against her in their gratitude for her display.
‘Who is our host, Johnny?’ she asked me.
‘Theodora, if only I knew that!’
But no need to worry. It was that kind of party that once you’re there, and look glamorous or in some way particular, they welcome you with happiness and push a bottle in your hand. As soon as they’d tanked themselves up a bit, the boys led by Cranium went into action, and Tamberlaine got hold of me to introduce me to our host.
‘This man’s a counsel in the courts of law,’ he told me, ‘called Mr Wesley Vial. Observe his appearance – like an eagle. Very precarious to be his victim in the dock, man, but full of charm and generosity as a hostess.’
‘A hostess, Tamberlaine?’
‘Well, you understand me, man.’
Mr Vial was fat, too fat, his flesh was coloured cream, his eyes sharp green, his hands most hairy and his feet small as any child’s. He wore a pleated shirt that was some shirt, and when he shook my hand he held it up and looked at it like it was some precious diamond.
‘You’ve lovely fingernails,’ he said.
‘My toenails also have been much admired,’ I told him.
‘You’re a witty boy as well as handsome. Now I do like that!’
The other guests of Mr Vial’s were strange and fanciful – the whites very richly dressed, whether men or women, and the coloured so splendid I guessed they’d be Americans in show business at least. And this I soon learnt was so, when Larry the GI appeared with some of this star material from the bathroom. ‘Huntley,’ he said, ‘is going to act a dance.’ And out came a naked boy wrapped round with toilet paper, who pranced among the guests and furniture, which most seemed delighted by – not me. These Americans!
A fierce voice said into my ear, ‘Now listen, Johnny! Why have you brought Theodora here?’
This was Montgomery, bursting with fire and indignation.
7
Voodoo in an unexpected setting
‘Monty,’ he said, ‘you really must cease to act the elder brother to me. I have one already, called Mr Christmas Fortune.’
‘Don’t call me “Monty”.’
‘Then what is all this, please, Mr Montgomery?’
‘You’re playing on Theodora’s feelings to no purpose.’
‘Well, if you say so, man.’
‘And sponging on her too, for all I know.’
‘Man,’ said Johnny sullenly, ‘you beat my time. What can I say to calm your interference?’
‘And please,’ I went desperately on, ‘don’t use those awful English phrases they taught you in Lagos high school.’
‘Lagos high,’ he said, ‘is maybe better than is Birmingham low.’
‘I must warn you, Johnny, if you trifle with Theodora, I’ll take steps.’
‘Oh, you win, man. What is it you’ll do to me – you make me one dead duck?’
And away he went, indifferent and debonair, to rejoin Theodora, who, crouched like a flamingo on a cushion, was