He really ought to go to the funeral parlour now, it would be appalling to miss the chance of seeing his father’s corpse (perhaps he could rest his foot on it). Patrick giggled and put down his empty glass on the windowsill. He was not going to take any smack. ‘I want to make that absolutely clear,’ he squealed in the voice of Mr Muffet, his old chemistry teacher from school. Walk tall, that was his philosophy, but get some downers first. Nobody could give up everything at once, especially (sob, sob) at a time like this. He must go down into that pulsing, burgeoning, monstrous mass of vegetation, the Park, and score. The gaggle of black and Hispanic dealers who hung around the entrance to Central Park opposite his hotel recognized Patrick as a potential customer from some way off.

‘Uppers! Downers! Check it out,’ said a tall, bruised-looking black man. Patrick walked on.

A hollow-cheeked Hispanic with a scrawny beard jerked his jaw forward and said, ‘Wot canna du for ju, my friend?’

‘I got goo-ood stuff,’ said another black man, wearing shades. ‘Check it out.’

‘Have you got any Quaaludes?’ drawled Patrick.

‘Sure, I got some Quaaludes. I got Lemon 714s – how many you want?’

‘How much?’

‘Five dollars.’

‘I’ll take six. And maybe some speed,’ Patrick added. This was what they called impulse shopping. Speed was the last thing he wanted, but he didn’t like to buy a drug unless he had the capacity to contradict it.

‘I got some Beauties, they’re phar-ma-ceu-ti-cal.’

‘You mean you made them yourself.’

‘No, man, pharmaceutical mean they’re goo-ood shit.’

‘Three of those.’

‘Ten dollars each.’

Patrick handed over sixty dollars and took the pills. By this time the other dealers had gathered round, impressed by the easy way that Patrick parted with money.

‘Ju English, right?’ said the Hispanic.

‘Don’t bother the man,’ said Shades.

‘Yes,’ said Patrick, knowing what was coming next.

‘You got free heroin over there, right?’ said the bruised-looking black man.

‘That’s right,’ said Patrick patriotically.

‘One day I’m going to come over to Britain and get me some of that free smack,’ the bruised-looking man said, looking relieved for a few seconds.

‘You do that,’ said Patrick, heading back up the steps to Fifth Avenue. ‘Bye now.’

‘You come back here tomorrow,’ said Shades possessively.

‘Yeah,’ mumbled Patrick, running up the steps. He put the Quaalude in his mouth, summoned a little saliva, and managed to force the pill down. It was an important skill to be able to swallow a pill without anything to drink. People who needed a drink were intolerable, he reflected, hailing a cab.