he wasn't allowed to open it and this rankled. But to prevent it slipping off the desk and onto the floor he had piled it in size order with the larger items at the bottom. This meant that the hard-backed A4brown envelope that provided the foundation for the whole pile was last. Harvey was yawning and feeling really that in fact a lot of decisions just made themselves. He leaned back against the tobacco-scented cushions and tore the end off this last envelope, then with a slight struggle, extracted its contents. After that he sat and looked at what he had got for a long time. It was a mint-condition copy of a Superman One in a plastic slip protector. And on the front of the plastic protector were a number of red, smudged fingerprints.
Harvey held it for minutes that seemed to be sucking at him, as if time was draining the alcohol and the faith out of him. Then he got up and walked unsteadily to his desk. He found the keys on the top and this time got the right one at once. Unlocking the bottom drawer where the petty cash was kept and lifting out the black metal tin inside, Harvey put the Superman One underneath it and then replaced the tin and closed and locked the drawer. Then he walked backwards to the sofa, unconsciously enacting an exact reversal of his previous movements, and fell heavily onto its untender mercy. He lay for a long moment awake but without thought, without response. Blank. And then he sank, blissfully, into total darkness.
Chapter Fifteen
'You left the door unlocked . . .' Josh's voice seemed to be coming from the locked drawer at the bottom of Harvey's desk, which unexpectedly was buried under some brambles in Bleeder's garden. '. . . all night with the shutter up.' There was amazement in his tone, mingled with a sort of grudging respect. 'I can't believe you did that.' Harvey untangled himself from his T-shirt, which had become rucked round his neck, pushed off the cushion that was smothering him, shook off the dream that was still circling round his head and sat up. Then he groaned. At everything.
'Leave that!' he said suddenly as Josh, attempting to perch on the edge of the desk, moved the pile of opened mail. 'I'll deal with that.' He rubbed his hand over his face to clear the dreams that had invaded the deep, dark wonderful nothingness of his drunken slumber and then, pushing himself up like an old man, ran bow-legged to the toilet. Josh heard what seemed to be a river cascading through the shop. It took a while before the flush went and the sound of taps replaced it. Harvey re-emerged, drying his face on the filthy hand towel that they kept in the equally filthy staff bathroom. 'That's a first even for you,' Josh continued as if Harvey had not left him, 'all night. Anyone could have wandered in and stolen the stock or done you in. How lucky are you?'
'Lucky?' Harvey emerged for a moment from the towel, his face pink overlaying grey beneath the stubble; his whole head gleaming with droplets. He considered the word for a moment as if examining a rare Japanese Hentai. 'How lucky am I?'
'Well, you could have been mugged.'
'Yes. I could.' He made his way back to the sofa and sat down to light a cigarette.
'What happened by the way?'
'Eh?'
'Your eye. You get in a fight, yeah? Or fell down or something?'
'Oh yeah, bit of argy-bargy, nothing really.'
'Right. Bad one.' Josh put on his best bedside manner. 'Want a McBreakfast?'
'Yeah, OK.' Harvey realised that Josh was right, he did need a McBreakfast.
'Big Breakfast?'
'Yeah.'
'How many?'
'Two.'
'Sure?'
'Yeah . . . No. Three.'
'Right. Can I take a fiver from petty cash? I'm a bit boracic?'
'Yeah, yeah, OK.' Harvey was searching for his matches, which had fallen off the end of the sofa during the night. The difficult bit was getting his hand down to the floor without bending over because bending over made the blood, and more importantly the pain, rush to the front of his head. Josh tinkered for a moment with his keys and then began to pull open the bottom drawer of the desk. His progress was impeded by Harvey who rugby-tackled him from the side and hurled him bodily to the floor.
'What in fuck ... ?'
'Shit. Sorry.' Harvey got up, shut the drawer and then rubbed his shoulder. 'Shit, that hurt.' He looked down to