Violet, who had not yet attended to her toilette.
A man with an accent similar to the Queen’s was saying on Violet’s greasy portable radio, ‘The monarchy in this country is dead, defunct. The Royal Family are the woolly mammoths of evolution.’
The Queen said, talking over the radio, ‘Violet, I had a dreadful night with toothache. At three o’clock this morning I would have gladly paid somebody to have cut
orf
my head. This pliers woman friend of yours, do you think she could help me?’
Violet turned the radio down and said, ‘’Ave you took some painkillers?’
The Queen nodded.
‘Only I’ve got some good ’uns that the doctor gave me for my back. I had to cut down on ’em, they turned me into a zombie.’
‘At the moment,’ said the Queen, ‘I find the thoughtof being a zombie rather attractive, but I need my wits about me today.’
Violet reached for the telephone and pressed the speed-dial button for her granddaughter, Chantelle, who was at work at the Frank Bruno House nursing home. ‘Chan? It’s Grandma. You know that woman what takes teeth out…? You do know somebody what takes teeth out. She’s married to… works at Walkers Crisps. The one with the funny leg… you do know him. His sister always sings the
Titanic
song on karaoke night at the One-Stop Centre. Yes, Sheila. Right, you know Sheila’s daughter, don’t you?… Can you ring her and ask her for her aunty’s number, the one what takes the teeth out?… Good girl. I’m here with the Queen.’
On the radio, a woman with a high-pitched voice was saying that she intended to vote Conservative for the first time in her life, because she wanted to see the Queen back on the throne. The Queen sighed, and clapped her hand over her jaw. Her tongue seemed to have a life of its own. Despite the pain, it kept finding and prodding the wobbly tooth. She wished it would stop.
After Chantelle had rung back, Violet went upstairs to get ready. The Queen fed Micky a few sauce-smeared crusts that Violet had left on her plate. Micky was in a benign mood and allowed the Queen to stroke his coarse ginger hair. The Queen said, ‘Have you ever had toothache, Micky? Have you, boy? It’s frightful.’
Micky growled, ‘I’ve had toothache for the past three years. Why do you think I keep losing my temper?’
The Queen looked into the dog’s eyes and saw that Micky was entirely sympathetic to her plight. Harris and Susan started barking in the street, and Micky ran through the house and hurled himself at the front door. From upstairs, Violet screamed at him to be quiet, and Barry Toby’s heavy tread was heard on the stairs. Barry’s solicitor habitually described him to the courts as a ‘gentle giant’ with a ‘heart of gold’. Neither of these statements was true. He was tall, and he did have a ladylike demeanour, but his heart was a violent, suspicious organ that had lost him wives, children and jobs.
‘Shut the fuck up!’ roared Barry, to the furiously barking Micky. Barry then nodded to the Queen and said, ‘All right?’
Barry was not much of a conversationalist. The Queen was glad when Violet tottered down the stairs in high heels, with her hair brushed and her face painted. After ordering Barry to behave himself, the Queen and Violet left the house.
Dwayne stood at the entrance to Hell Close. It was the first day he’d been allowed out on patrol without a senior officer. He’d been ordered to carry out spot checks to ensure that the residents were carrying their identity cards. It was impossible to check everyone, so he worked out a system: this morning he’d stop men with beards, anybody with black hair, and old ladies.
After working the last three days in the operations centre, he knew that every move he made was being captured on a screen, so he couldn’t let anybody off ifthey didn’t have their ID card with them. When he saw the Queen and Violet Toby approaching, followed by Harris, Susan and Micky, his legs went
A man with an accent similar to the Queen’s was saying on Violet’s greasy portable radio, ‘The monarchy in this country is dead, defunct. The Royal Family are the woolly mammoths of evolution.’
The Queen said, talking over the radio, ‘Violet, I had a dreadful night with toothache. At three o’clock this morning I would have gladly paid somebody to have cut
orf
my head. This pliers woman friend of yours, do you think she could help me?’
Violet turned the radio down and said, ‘’Ave you took some painkillers?’
The Queen nodded.
‘Only I’ve got some good ’uns that the doctor gave me for my back. I had to cut down on ’em, they turned me into a zombie.’
‘At the moment,’ said the Queen, ‘I find the thoughtof being a zombie rather attractive, but I need my wits about me today.’
Violet reached for the telephone and pressed the speed-dial button for her granddaughter, Chantelle, who was at work at the Frank Bruno House nursing home. ‘Chan? It’s Grandma. You know that woman what takes teeth out…? You do know somebody what takes teeth out. She’s married to… works at Walkers Crisps. The one with the funny leg… you do know him. His sister always sings the
Titanic
song on karaoke night at the One-Stop Centre. Yes, Sheila. Right, you know Sheila’s daughter, don’t you?… Can you ring her and ask her for her aunty’s number, the one what takes the teeth out?… Good girl. I’m here with the Queen.’
On the radio, a woman with a high-pitched voice was saying that she intended to vote Conservative for the first time in her life, because she wanted to see the Queen back on the throne. The Queen sighed, and clapped her hand over her jaw. Her tongue seemed to have a life of its own. Despite the pain, it kept finding and prodding the wobbly tooth. She wished it would stop.
After Chantelle had rung back, Violet went upstairs to get ready. The Queen fed Micky a few sauce-smeared crusts that Violet had left on her plate. Micky was in a benign mood and allowed the Queen to stroke his coarse ginger hair. The Queen said, ‘Have you ever had toothache, Micky? Have you, boy? It’s frightful.’
Micky growled, ‘I’ve had toothache for the past three years. Why do you think I keep losing my temper?’
The Queen looked into the dog’s eyes and saw that Micky was entirely sympathetic to her plight. Harris and Susan started barking in the street, and Micky ran through the house and hurled himself at the front door. From upstairs, Violet screamed at him to be quiet, and Barry Toby’s heavy tread was heard on the stairs. Barry’s solicitor habitually described him to the courts as a ‘gentle giant’ with a ‘heart of gold’. Neither of these statements was true. He was tall, and he did have a ladylike demeanour, but his heart was a violent, suspicious organ that had lost him wives, children and jobs.
‘Shut the fuck up!’ roared Barry, to the furiously barking Micky. Barry then nodded to the Queen and said, ‘All right?’
Barry was not much of a conversationalist. The Queen was glad when Violet tottered down the stairs in high heels, with her hair brushed and her face painted. After ordering Barry to behave himself, the Queen and Violet left the house.
Dwayne stood at the entrance to Hell Close. It was the first day he’d been allowed out on patrol without a senior officer. He’d been ordered to carry out spot checks to ensure that the residents were carrying their identity cards. It was impossible to check everyone, so he worked out a system: this morning he’d stop men with beards, anybody with black hair, and old ladies.
After working the last three days in the operations centre, he knew that every move he made was being captured on a screen, so he couldn’t let anybody off ifthey didn’t have their ID card with them. When he saw the Queen and Violet Toby approaching, followed by Harris, Susan and Micky, his legs went
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