The Da-Da-De-Da-Da Code by Robert Rankin

left the office.
    Jonny Hooker viewed his supper. Lettuce and uncooked vegetable stuff and a glass of tomato juice.
    ‘Mm,’ went Dr Archy. ‘Looks yummy. Do tuck in.’
    Jonny Hooker tucked into his salad. As a hungry man will do.
    ‘Ah,’ said the doctor, still tapping at his keyboard, ‘something coming up here, I think. Ah yes – it says here that you have developed a recent compulsion to enter competitions.’
    Jonny Hooker looked up from his salad, a spring onion stuck between his lips like a green cigarette. ‘What?’ he mumbled, with his mouth full.
    ‘You are apparently trying to crack the Da-da-de-da-da Code. What would that be all about, then?’
    Jonny Hooker’s jaw hung slack.
    ‘That’s not a very good look,’ said Dr Archy. ‘I think you should swallow before you open your mouth like that.’
    Jonny munched and then swallowed. ‘
That
is on your computer?’ he asked. ‘That
I
have entered a competition? But I haven’t done it officially. I have decided to do so, that’s all.’
    ‘I told you that you’d be surprised by what’s on here. You do
look
surprised.’
    ‘I’m amazed,’ said Jonny. ‘And also rather concerned.’
    ‘Why so?’
    ‘Because—’ Jonny paused before saying more. Indeed, he now intended to say no more. He knew full well, because. Because it meant that he had been ‘observed’, ‘listened in to’. That he was under surveillance. How else could that piece of information about himself be on the doctor’s computer?
    ‘Because?’ said Dr Archy.
    ‘Nothing,’ said Jonny. ‘Do you think I might have a look at this computer entry about myself?’
    ‘Not permitted, I’m afraid,’ said Dr Archy.
    ‘No, I rather thought not.’
    Jonny forked the last of his salad into his mouth and munchedupon it. Plastic knife and fork, he noted. No weapon potential there. Dr Archy smiled towards Jonny. Jonny smiled back at the doctor.
    And then Jonny leapt from his chair, paper plate and cup of juice all spilling to the floor. He swung the computer monitor around. The screen was blank. The computer wasn’t switched on.
    And Jonny cocked his head on one side and smiled at the doctor. And then swung his fist with a good wide swing and clocked that doc full-face. And the doctor fell back in a flurry of case notes.
    And Jonny leapt out of the window.

8
     
    Jonny Hooker awoke with a head full of noise.
    A head full of noise and a very damp constitution.
    He blinked in the daylight and took in the leaves and the grass and the sky and the hedgehog. The hedgehog sidled away and Jonny clasped at his naked arms and felt a little confused.
    Slowly, but shuffled and dealt as if playing cards, memories of the previous evening returned to him. Jonny sorted these memories into their separate suits.
    The Special Wing of the hospital. Nurse Hollywood. The padded cell. Nurse Cecil. The interview with Dr Archy. Dr Archy’s knowledge of Jonny’s doings. Jonny’s escape through the window. A horrid chase up the Ealing Road. The outrunning of his pursuers. The scaling of the gates of Gunnersbury Park. The hiding out in the mulberry bush.
    The waking up in the morning now, all damp, in the mulberry bush.
    And a head full of noise, noise, noise.
    ‘Da-da-de-da-da! Da-da-de-da-da! Da-da-de-da-da!’
    ‘Stop it!’ shouted Jonny, and he pressed his fists to his temples. Then, ‘Keep it down,’ he told himself. ‘But stop with the “da-dade-da-das”.’
    ‘Would you prefer a couple of fol-de-rols and a twiddly-diddly-de?’ asked Mr Giggles the Monkey Boy. ‘This is rather rubbish accommodation, even for you.’
    ‘The drugs have worn off, then,’ said Jonny Hooker, ‘and I am cursed once more with you.’
    ‘And you should be glad to have me. See the trouble you get yourself into when you’re on your own? Medication and a padded cell and a nice plate of salad for your supper.’
    ‘I escaped,’ said Jonny. ‘I didn’t need your help. And it was all your fault that I ended up