Big Dump

Wow, it looks like a long story.

El Greco
Part 8

Jonathan did not have a handshake. When I thrust my hand at him after the jumpy introduction from Colin, he gazed at it curiously and gave it a faint squeeze after a moment of figuring out the whole gesture. I, on the other hand, did not have words; he looked jetlagged and tired, a few wrinkles on his shirt visible where the flap of the blazer did not reach, but in spite of his shabby condition I felt like I were the one out of place, which made me mute and awkward. All I could do in the short couple of seconds before Colin had stolen him from me – was look.

It was only a fleeting moment. I saw the two brothers with their back to me, walking away, Colin’s arm over Jonathan’s shoulders and then the crowd closed up and a gentleman found my hand between the bodies, taking it in his in a firm shake.

“Have you ever thought about making a record?” he asked, leaning toward my ear and getting out a business card. I simply looked at the white rectangle and he smiled like a proper benefactor before nodding and walking away. Somebody was at me from the other side – a young man with an open face, his eyes skimming over my face and two hands clasping one of mine.

“Smashing show, Mr. Yorke, I would love to hear more of you. Is there anyway to get your music?”

Behind him a girl was smiling invitingly and I felt even more out of place and at loss of words. Thankfully, Ed’s hand landed on my shoulder rather heavily.

“How about a pint?” he said in a loud and clear voice and the young man looked up at him as if it were an invitation for all of us.

“Sorry, mate,” Ed smiled apologetically at him, “It’s just me and him tonight.”

We exited into the chilly night and I felt thankful for the current of cold air hitting my face. Ed led me a few blocks down the street and we entered a small deserted pub.

“Good show,” Ed said as we settled into the booth. I felt comfortable with him, so I leaned against the wall and stretched out on the seat, scratching at my ear and smiling all the way.

“Yeah,” I breathed and Ed chuckled, his blue eyes sparkling.

“So you met Jonny?” he said, taking a sip.

“Jonny?”

“Colin’s brother.”

“Oh. Jonathan.”

“What, Colin rubbed off on you? Thomas, Jonathan, Edward, Tooobias,” Ed cringed, “Did you know Toby was once incarcerated for beating a bloke into a pulp?”

“Excuse me?”

“Anyway, what’d you think of Jonathan?”

“I don’t…I just met him. I’ve only seen him for a couple of minutes.”

“Yes, but you and I, we know it’s plenty of time for an impression and for further thoughts,” Ed was leering and rolling the empty glass between his palms. With a flick of his wrist he ordered seconds.

“I think he is rather…”

“…You know, I’ve been waiting for you to meet him,” Ed was already done with half of his new glass and I was staring at him and wondering if it were his first couple of pints of the day. He was losing his noble stature in geometrical progression.

“What?”

“I know Jonny since he was eight, I’ve watched him grow. I know what he’s like,” he leaned in, his breath giving off alcohol fumes, “And you know what? Jonny is lost,” he pushed back, staring at the table in front of himself, “Just like his brother.”

His next drink was a shot of vodka while I sat stupefied, trying to decipher this strange transformation and his words. We were interrupted, however, when Stanley, Colin, Toby and Jonathan came in and Ed pulled back into his shell – becoming his charming old self again.

I did not know why it bothered me so much, but Jonathan was seated quite far away from me, on the other side and end of the booth. We did not exchange a word until we all left some time later, watching the last visitor leave the gallery and get into cabs.

“Shall I leave it unlocked for anybody to come in?” Colin asked, rolling on his feet.

“Yup, never mind the profits, it’s all about the enlightenment,” Ed noticed, “Of course you’d have to let go half of your staff, including Thom, because you’d be in no shape to compete for him; did you know that Master Yorke here received a business proposition from Sir Lawrence?”

“I did?” I looked at Ed, confused.

“The gentleman after your performance, he gave you a card.”

“Oh, he said something about the record.”
“Seriously?” Colin turned on his heels, gazing at Ed in wonder, “It must bug him that I have something he is interested in.”

“Isn’t Lawrence into newspapers?” Jonathan spoke, rocking back a little when five pairs of eyes looked at him.

“Newspapers, then printing, now he is a big investor in record companies,” Tobias informed, “It’s quite convenient to release records and write about them in your newspaper later.”

“Give him a television programme and he’ll own the public opinion,” Ed joked.

“Anyway, I believe Thomas will make a right decision,” I looked at Colin, but he wasn’t looking at me, “Let me lock up and we’ll be on our way. By the way, what are the sleeping arrangements?”

“Mine are quite predictable,” Ed noticed and Colin swatted at him.

“I’m talking about Jonathan.”

“I was hoping for the room in the shop, I had my luggage delivered there.”

“Right,” Colin bit his lip, “Thom and Stan are crashing in that room at the moment.”

“Erm,” Jonathan looked a little perplexed, “I could get a room in a hotel.”

“Nonsense, you are staying at my place,” Colin said, shushing ready-to-protest Toby with a quick glance while Jonny raised his eyebrows slightly and Ed hid his smirk. Stan and I exchanged a quick embarrassed look and Colin rolled his eyes at the whole moment, sighing, “Tobias and I are in a relationship, Jon.”

“Ah.”

“Ed and Thom too.”

Ed instantly put an arm around my shoulders and drew me closer while I let out a quick “Like hell we are” and Stanley cackled in the background. Jonathan looked at us with a confused smile and Colin laughed lightly.

…::…

“So,” Stanley was sitting on his bed and taking off his boots after we’d arrived to the shop, “Can’t wait until tomorrow, it all starts again. What time is your performance scheduled?”

“After eight,” I said, pulling off my shirt and falling face down on the bed.
“Are you going to phone that Lawrence character?”

“Should I?” I turned my head to gaze at Stanley.

“If you feel like it. He can plug you in for the rest of your life. Or drop you in the next season. All depends on his mood.”

“Right.”

“But you’ll have access to a fine studio.”

“Not that long ago I didn’t even have an access to a clean bathroom,” I closed my eyes, “The prospect of a nice studio does not lure me enough to lose contact with all of this.”

“You mean Colin.”

“Yes, he did seem a bit touched by the situation.”

“You should’ve followed the press. There was a minor conflict between them a while ago; minor for Lawrence, huge for Colin, of course.”

“Go on.”

“Like Toby said, Lawrence was into printing for a while. For the most part he competed with the biggest producers on the market and Colin was not his primary competitor. They had the same genre for a while, though – children’s books, and as you know Colin’s in the business for ideological reasons, generally. Lawrence used political as well as market stamps in the books and Colin – well, he asked his mate at one local newspaper to run an investigation on who was lobbying Lawrence. One thing led to another and Lawrence was facing a mob of angry mothers – who knew we had so many leftists in the area. In the end Lawrence conducted his own research and stumbled upon Colin. A lawsuit followed, of course, for libel and black PR.”

“And what happened then?”

“The court found the actions of the newspaper justifiable and all charges were dropped. Lawrence shifted his target market to older audience.”

“Wow. Never knew Colin was such a shark. But why did Lawrence come today to Colin’s exhibition?”

“Who knows? Maybe he wanted to estimate Colin’s stance in the world. Maybe he was just curious. Maybe he loves your music.”

“Right.”

Stanley turned off the lights and we both scrambled under the covers.

“I’d return Jonny’s picture if I were you,” Stan said after some time sleepily and I pretended that I was asleep, facing the wall.