The guy looks at him for a second and then he sort of does the same thing, makes the same signal with his hand on his head, only shakily and half-heartedly, so as it was as if maybe he didn’t do it as well, like a secret signal that wasn’t meant for you and maybe you only imagined it. Then this double, he says to us, Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle, that’s what youse are looking for, boys, he says, and he pulls out these comics in the plastic bags. John Buscema, he says to us, pointing to the cover, that’s your man right there. Who’s he? Tommy says to his double. He’s the artist, his double says to him. Silver Surfer, The Avengers, guy’s a legend, he says.

I take a look at this one cover myself. I feel like I recognise the artwork and I says to this double, is that your man what did Doc Savage? I love Doc Savage, I says. Sure, Tommy’s double says, your man did the cover of the very first issue of Doc Savage. I’ve got that, I says to Tommy. You ever see his Savage Sword of Conan stuff? the double bill says to me and he hands me a bundle of issues. Here, he says to me, free of charge, he says. They’ll make you feel better, he says, they always do with me. I don’t want to take them. What am I going to do, go back to the house and read them while his wife chokes on a poke of chinky chips? But then he forces them on me. Good to meet a true fan, he says, and then he winks at me, like I’m in the club now too or something.

This is a balls-up, Tommy says when we get outside, a right royal fucking balls-up, and I says to myself, the plot just thickened, Xamuel, as we jumped on the first bus to anywhere, and we looked down at these mad comics in our laps and at each other, for the first time, with suspicion, like who is the true fan here, Xamuel, and what does that mean, or what.

*

That night I go home and I lie in my bed and I read Savage Sword of Conan before I fall off to sleep. There’s one page in particular, one page what sticks in my mind. Your man Conan is lying on a cushion that’s the shape of an exotic seashell, on a luxurious bed, and there’s joss sticks burning and it looks like a harem or a whorehouse.

This woman what never opens her eyes, I think she’s meant to be a blind, this blind woman, is lying, spread out, on the bed, and she is talking to Conan.

She wears a tiny veil.

At first, she thinks that he is somebody else.