Free Heaven's Promise by Paolo Hewitt

kid caught pissing in the sink, and so I ended further communicado until Lord Haw Haw was up and finished and striding out of the shop.
    â€˜Don’t wind up the punters,’ complained Davey Boy, wrapping away the cloth, ‘you’ll only put me out of pocket plus it ruins all my chances of breaking into the deb’s circuit and finding myself a little wild child who can keep me in a style that I am unaccustomed to, know what I mean?’
    It was true that Davey Boy was on the lookout for a partner for he had recently left his wife of nine months standing, his explanation for this whirlwind marriage being based on the fact that he and his sweetheart had been longtime lovers but once the knot had been tied, the magic suddenly vanished and they drifted apart.
    The other story doing the rounds told a different tale. This story had Davey Boy come home one night to find his beloved, drunk in bed, wearing a newly bought leather biker’s jacket. Davey Boy, who is allergic to all motorbike or rocker gear, demanded that either the jacket went or he did.
    As no coat has yet been designed to stand up and transport itself when asked, and as the wife had just raided the holiday cashola to buy it, Davey Boy had no choice but to accept his wife’s stern refusal and leave the field of play, hence his current enthusiasm to resume action on the gal front and find someone caked up enough to help him out on the alimony deal now heading his way.
    â€˜Anyway, I’m glad you’ve strolled in because I want a word in both your shell-likes, if you don’t mind.’
    â€˜Sure, Davey Boy,’ I replied, ‘but only if you tell us what Lord Haw Haw was doing here. I mean it’s hardly his neck of the woods.’
    â€˜Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Have you heard about this Acid House scene that’s starting up? I need to know if it’s a goer or not.’
    â€˜That must be the club Dillon was about,’ I said to Brother P.
    â€˜Why are you interested?’ asked my companion.
    â€˜See, the other night I went out with my kid brother. I see a lot more of the kid now that I’m at home and he hates it because I’m always taking the piss out of him in front of his little girlfriends. I say little but you should see some of them. You’d get arrested if you didn’t know their age.
    â€˜Anyway, one night I’m bored and that, so I tag along with him to this club round our way. I used to go there myself so that shows you how far I’ve come in life. Still, they say everything goes round in circles.
    â€˜Now, I’m not kidding you but it was un-be-fucking-lievable down there. There’s all these young’uns, togged up like farmers in baggy jeans and dungarees, off their heads and going absolutely mad. They were all over the shop. You could tell. Their eyes were shot and they didn’t have a care in the world. Friendly as fuck, mind you, no bother whatsoever.
    â€˜Anyways, the place is rammed and there’s dry ice everywhere and these bleedin’ strobe lights going off every five seconds. You remember them don’t you? Nah, course you don’t, you were just a twinkle in your dad’s bollocks then but you know the sort I mean. Ones that flash all the time and you get a fucking great headache watching them.
    â€˜Anyways, it was manic down there so I pulled my kid brother aside and asked him, what the fuck is going on? You know what he does? He pulls out these three white pills and tells me that at least three quarters of the bods there have dropped one and that’s why everyone is going beserk. They’re called Ecstasy and apparently you don’t give a fuck once you’ve dropped it or as my kid brother says, got right on one.
    â€˜Doesn’t sound right to me. I mean, in my day, it was blues that did the trick but this stuff is something else. I dunno, maybe I’m getting on but I told him if I saw him