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MARCHING POWDER

The phone was one of those old, chunky models with a wire aerial that you had to extend.

'OK. You have half an hour starting from now,' I said, handing it to Paul, who eyed the cracked display panel suspiciously.

He dialled the number and put the phone to his ear.

'Is it ringing?' asked Jay.

'Yeah, seems to be working. It's dialling at least. What? ... Hello Mum ... yeah, Mum, it's me ... I'm calling from Bolivia ... Bolivia, Mum. It's in South America ... yeah, I'm fine. I'm calling from prison ... the prison ...' The others in the room started giggling. 'Yes, I'm in jail, Mum ... Mum! ... Can you hear me? Fuck! It cut out. Fuck!'

Everyone stopped laughing. No one said a word. We were all imagining what Paul's poor mother must have been thinking on the other side of the world, having not heard from her son in over two years, only to receive a call from him on a bad connection telling her that he was in prison in South America.

'Quick. Press redial!' said Liz.

'Where's redial? You do it!' he shouted, thrusting the phone at her.

'Here, have another line,' I said. 'It'll make you chill down.'

'I thought you said it makes you talk?' Giles queried sarcastically.

'It's ringing!' yelled Liz, and handed the phone back to Paul.

Paul tried to explain to his mother what was happening. 'Yeah, Mum. It's me again ... I'm fine ... the phone just cut out ... Yes, I'm in jail, but I'm not in any trouble. It's not an ordinary jail ...'

Paul was now raising his voice because of the bad connection, 'Mum ... listen to me! No, I haven't been taking drugs ...' As Paul tried to calm his mother, Giles offered him the CD case, where a line of cocaine was set up. Paul shook his head and waved it away angrily. 'I'm telling the truth, Mum ... I'm not making it up ... yes, I know that cocaine is evil, Mum ... I know you're not stupid, Mum ... I've never touched it ...' He rolled his eyes. 'Mum, why won't you just listen to me?'

At that point he changed his mind and motioned to Giles for the CD case. Holding the telephone between his ear and his shoulder, he rolled up a Bolivian banknote, covered the mouthpiece and quietly sniffed a little line. He had a lot of explaining to do. And cocaine really helps you to explain things. You can explain a lot on cocaine.

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