Corduroy Mansions Page 0,5

have to shine a light into them. Just relax.”

There was a small torch beside the cash register. They used it from time to time to look into the mouths of customers who wanted something for mouth ulcers or gingivitis. Dee reached for this torch and crouched in front of Martin. She rested a hand on his shoulder to steady herself. His shoulder felt bony; Martin did not eat enough, she thought, but that was something they could deal with later. For now it was sodium rings.

The torch threw a small circle of weak light onto his cheek. She moved it up closely until it was shining directly into his right eye.

She felt Martin’s breathing upon her hand, a warm, rather comforting feeling. Then it stopped; he was holding his breath.

“See anything?” he asked.

“Hold on. I’m just trying to see. Yes … Yes.”

“Yes what? Are there any sodium rings?”

“Yes. I think so. There are some white circles. I think those are sodium rings all right.”

She turned the torch off and stood back. Martin stared at her balefully.

“What can I do?”

“Eat less salt for starters.”

“And?”

“And the sodium rings should disappear.” She paused. “But there were other things there.”

He looked at her in alarm. “Such as?”

“Flecks. And quite a few yellow dots. I don’t know what those mean. I suppose we could look them up.”

They were interrupted by the arrival of the first customer of the morning. He wanted St. John’s wort and a bottle of echinacea. Dee served him while Martin tidied the counter. Afterwards, when the customer had gone, Martin turned to her. His anxiety was evident.

“Should I cut out salt altogether?”

She shrugged. “We need a certain amount of salt. If you cut out salt altogether you’d die. So maybe just a bit less.”

He nodded. There was a mirror in the washroom and he would have a quick look at his eyes in that. If he could see the sodium rings himself, then he could monitor his progress in getting rid of them.

“It’s not the end of the world,” said Dee reassuringly. “People live with sodium rings for a long time.”

“And then they die?”

“Maybe. But you’re not going to die, Martin. Not just yet. As long as you take sensible precautions.”

Martin looked thoughtful. “Supplements?”

Dee shook her head. She knew that Martin was already on a number of supplements—they all were—and probably needed nothing else. No, the yellow flecks she thought she had seen in his irises pointed to colon issues.

“I think that you need colonic irrigation,” she said. “Those yellow flecks I saw are probably related to the colon.”

Martin said nothing.

“Colonic irrigation is the answer,” Dee pronounced. “We all need it, but very few people take it up.”

Martin swallowed. “You have to …”

“Yes,” said Dee. “It’s not a very savoury subject, but it’s no use running away from it. The transit time for food through the system should ideally be less than twenty-four hours. The average time for British men—of which you, Martin, are an example—is over sixty hours. Sixty hours!”

Martin swallowed again. “And it involves …”

“Yes,” said Dee. “It does. But we don’t need to go into that. One doesn’t have to look.”

She stared at Martin. She liked this young man. There was something innocent about him; something fresh. And yet when she had looked into his irises …

She smiled at him. “Don’t be too concerned. It’s not as bad as you think it is. I’ve had colonic irrigation. I went to Thailand and had a special course of it on Ko Samui. But you don’t have to go that far.”

“You don’t?”

“No. Not at all.” She reached out and patted him on the shoulder. “How old are you again, Martin?”

“Nineteen. Twenty next month.”

“Twenty years of impurity,” mused Dee. “Look, why don’t you let me do it for you? It’s not difficult, you know.”

Martin looked down at the floor. He was not sure what to say. It was such a generous offer.

5. Unmarried Girls

DEE MIGHT HAVE HAD a low opinion of her flatmate Caroline’s work, but for all that it was about as removed as was at all possible from the factory floor—in so far as any factory floors remained—still it required a measure of talent, and considerable application. And that was not all: in addition, the annual fees for the course amounted to seventeen thousand pounds, and that was just for tuition. On top of that one had to live, and for most of the people on the course with Caroline—and for Caroline herself—the living was the expensive part. One