Lionel Asbo: State of England Read Online Free Page B

Des, in a nutshell, it’s the difference between the first-aid kit and the casualty ward.’
    ‘And this Ross Knowles, Uncle Li. How long’s he been in Diston General?’ asked Des (referring to the worst hospital in England).
    ‘Oy. Objection. That’s prejudicial.’
    Panting and drooling, Jeff and Joe stared in through the glass door: brickfaced, with thuggish foreheads, and their little ears trying to point towards each other.
    ‘Why prejudicial?’
    ‘Hypothesis.’ Hypoffesis . ‘I give Ross Knowles a little tap in a fair fight, he comes out of the Hobgoblin – and walks under a truck.’ Truck: pronounced truc-kuh (with a glottal stop on the terminal plosive). ‘See? Prejudicial.’
    Des nodded. It was in fact strongly rumoured that Ross Knowles came out of the Hobgoblin on a stretcher.
    ‘According to the Offences Against the Person Act,’ Lionel went on, ‘there’s Common Assault, ABH, and G. It’s decided, Des, by you level of intent and the seriousness of the injury. Offensive weapon, offensive weapon of any kind, you know, something like a beer glass – that’s G. If he needs a blood transfusion – that’s G. If you kick him in the bonce – that’s G.’
    ‘What did you use on him, Uncle Li?’
    ‘A beer glass.’
    ‘Did he need a blood transfusion?’
    ‘So they say.’
    ‘And did you kick him in the bonce?’
    ‘No. I jumped on it. In me trainers, mind … Uh, visible disfigurement or permanent disability – that’s the clincher, Des.’
    ‘And in this case, Uncle Li?’
    ‘Well I don’t know, do I. I don’t know what sort of nick he was in before.’
    ‘… Why d’you smash him up?’
    ‘Didn’t like the smile on his face.’ Lionel gave his laugh – a series of visceral grunts. ‘No. I’m not that thick.’ ( Thic-kuh .) ‘I had two reasons, Des. Ross Knowles – I heard Ross Knowles saying something about buying a banger off Jayden Drago. And he’s got the same moustache as Marlon. Ross has. So I smashed him up.’
    ‘Hang on.’ Des tried to work it out (he went in search of the sequitur). Jayden Drago, the renowned used-car salesman, was Gina Drago’s father. And Marlon, Marlon Welkway, was Lionel’s first cousin (and closest associate). ‘I still don’t get it.’
    ‘Jesus. Haven’t you heard? Marlon’s pulled Gina! Yeah. Marlon’s pulled Gina … So all that come together in me mind. And it put me in a mood.’ For a while Lionel gnawed on his thumb. He looked up and said neutrally, ‘I’m still hoping for Common Assault. But me brief said the injuries were uh, more consistent with Attempted Manslaughter . So we’ll see. Are you going to school today?’
    ‘Yeah, I thought I might look in.’
    ‘Ah, you such a little angel. Come on.’
    They refilled the water bowls. Then man and boy filed down the thirty-three floors. Lionel, as usual, went to the corner shop for his smokes and his Morning Lark while Des waited out on the street.
    ‘… Fruit, Uncle Li? Not like you. You don’t eat fruit.’
    ‘Yeah I do. What you think a Pop-Tart is? Look. Nice bunch of grapes. See, I got a friend who’s uh, indisposed. Thought I’d go and cheer him up. Put this in you satchel.’
    He handed over the bottle of Tabasco. Plus an apple.
    ‘A nice Granny Smith. For you teacher.’
    To evoke the London borough of Diston, we turn to the poetry of Chaos:
     
Each thing hostile
To every other thing: at every point
Hot fought cold, moist dry, soft hard, and the weightless
Resisted weight.
    So Des lived his life in tunnels. The tunnel from flat to school, the tunnel (not the same tunnel) from school to flat. And all the warrens that took him to Grace, and brought him back again. He lived his life in tunnels … And yet for the sensitive soul, in Diston Town, there was really only one place to look. Where did the eyes go? They went up, up.
    School – Squeers Free, under a sky of white: the weakling headmaster, the demoralised chalkies in their rayon tracksuits, the