Sadly, it looks like I won’t be able to use this, or at least not in its current form. Norm and Stan are the doormen of Ditzy’s, the coolest club in Ning Dang Po. Marlon, one of Big Merv’s people, is inside and The Pan has been sent to fetch him, not that he looks likely to get past Norm and Stan. But then he discovers that Lord Vernon (the Grongle who outlawed him) is in there, so he’s not sure he wants to go in anyway. Now he has to get word to Marlon that Big Merv wants to see him without actually going into the club and being seen by Lord Vernon.
****
Outside Ditzy’s Norm and Stan were still smarting from being humiliated by Clark earlier. They exorcised their irritation, not to mention a dash of mortification, by applying the dress code and other opaque rules of entry to the club with the kind of psychopathic zeal of which only door staff are capable. Norm stopped the last female in a gang of eight who had all gone in.
‘Not you,’ he said.
‘Why not?’ she asked.
‘Skirt,’ said Stan.
‘What about my skirt?’
‘Too long,’ said Stan at the exact same moment that Norm said,
‘It’s a minge pelmet!’
‘What?’
‘OK, we’ll let the length go then,’ said Stan.
‘But you still can’t come in,’ said Norm.
‘S’right. Coz it’s pink. It’s Red Night tonight. You can’t come in on Red Night wearing pink,’ said Norm.
Her face crumpled, but she didn’t cry. ‘It’s my sister’s hen night,’ she said. ‘We’re all wearing pink. You let them in.’
‘They didn’t look pink. Yours does,’ said Norm.
‘They’ve gone in without me. Can’t I go in and explain that you won’t let me in.’
‘Don’t be stupid. If you’re not getting in, we’re not going to let you in are we? That’s the whole point of not getting in isn’t it? That you don’t,’ said Stan.
‘But they’ll think I’ve gone home.’
‘They’ll be right. Coz you’ll have to, now,’ said Norm.
‘Yeh. Think about it this way, you’ve saved yourself a mint not paying to get in there,’ said Stan.
‘Yeh we done you a favour,’ said Norm.
‘So get lost,’ said Stan.
If one thing was certain, Norm and Stan were not going to be letting just anyone into the club tonight. They were going to split parties and cause as much misery as possible and anyone delivering any messages? They could just do one, or queue for two hours with the other plebs.
****
The Pan of Hamgee, watching this exchange from a few feet away sighed. He suspected the outcome was a foregone conclusion, but he had to try and gain access to Ditzy’s by the usual channels first so he stepped up and asked, anyway.
‘Hi,’ he said.
Both the enormous Swamp Thing bouncers turned towards him.
‘What d’you want?’ said the largest. He was the one that The Pan thought was called Norm, from the conversations he’d overheard between them. Not that he was going to dare using the fellow’s name. He couldn’t help noticing how much taller than him both of them were and the way the one who’d spoken’s antennae were sticking straight up and hardly moving at all. Great. They were angry already and he hadn’t even started. He swallowed.
‘I’m here to deliver a message,’ he said.
They laughed.
‘That’s funny, right Norm.’
‘Yer, Stan. This bloke’s got a wicked sense of humour.’
‘I have?’ said The Pan.
‘Yer. Don’t tell us who it’s for! We want to guess. You’ve got a message for Marcella The Pirate.’
‘Arnold no!’ said The Pan. ’I need to speak to someone else. His name’s—’
‘Lord Vernon! You must be here to see Lord Vernon, then!’ said the one that The Pan now knew was called Norm. The other one, Stan, doubled up laughing.
‘Yeh, you here for Lord Vernon?’ he asked.
‘Of course I’m smecking not!’ snapped The Pan and stopped. ‘Is he in tonight?’
‘Yer, he’s in,’ said Norm.
Smeck!
‘In … there?’ asked The Pan, just to check.
‘No he’s on the moon!’ said Norm and Stan snickered.
Ha smecking ha, thought The Pan.
‘What’s it to you?’ asked Stan.
‘Nothing, believe me,’ said The Pan breezily. Stan’s eyes narrowed. ‘Look,’ gabbled The Pan, ‘I’m sorry alright. I thought Deaf Marlon was in tonight. If he’s not here then fine, I won’t waste your time, if he is, I have a message for him from Big Merv.’
Norm guffawed and put a heavy hand on The Pan’s shoulder.
‘Now you’re really making me laugh,’ he said through tears of ironic mirth. Well yes, that much was obvious.
‘What’s so funny?’ The Pan asked.
‘That you think you’re going to get in! That’s chuffing hilarious that is, right Stan?’
‘Yer!’ The other one clutched his stomach and doubled over, laughing fit to bust. ‘You really think we’ll believe you’ve got a message from Big Merv! He’s got standards in his organisation.’
‘Yer,’ agreed Norm starting to laugh again. ‘As if!’
‘But—’ began The Pan as Stan spoke over him.
‘Listen bud, if you don’t want a smack in the mouth may I suggest, politely, that you piss off.’
He felt his shoulders sag as he looked up at the bouncers. He stared at them both for a moment but now they’d told him Lord Vernon was in there, he was getting cold feet anyway.
‘Fair enough,’ he said and walked away.
Deaf Marlon was in there and The Pan had to fetch him, but if Lord Vernon was also there he’d have to find a way to do it without being seen. Lord Vernon and The Pan had what Ada, at The Parrot and Screwdriver, would undoubtedly have called, ‘a history.’ Sargent Vernon, as he’d been then, ran a tin pot rural police station in Hamgee and because of one stupid, stupid act on The Pan’s part, had added The Pan and his family to the Government blacklist. The security forces had hauled the Pan’s father, mother, sister and brother off to who knew where. The Pan had only escaped because he was storming along the cliff path in a sulk after yet another row with his father. Ever since that day The Pan had been on the run and Lord Vernon had been on the look out for him.
‘Discretion is the better part of valour,’ he muttered as he walked, although The Pan felt that in his case, the valour side of it was distinctly absent. Yeh, I’m all about discretion, he thought.
He chided himself for being a nutter magnet. He seemed be a red rag to every jumped-up jobsworth in Ning Dang Po. Yeh. Look at Smart Dennis. On the other hand, tonight it had done him a favour. The Pan knew, with a sinking heart, that he couldn’t go into a confined space with the recently enobled leader of the party. Marcella’s presence was bad enough, but if she saw The Pan she might decide to get antsy, security would throw them all out and he’d leg it and escape. If Lord Vernon noticed him it would be terminal.
Now what?
Plan B of course. He’d just have to give himself a minute or two to think of one.
There was no way The Pan could set foot in Ditzy’s via normal channels tonight, or at least, not without a disguise.
He rounded the corner of the building and stopped to take stock. While he did have some disguises in his snurd, he didn’t have time for one right now. On the other hand, he certainly couldn’t go in wearing his father’s hat and cloak. Lord Vernon would recognise him instantly. Yeh, nothing doing.
As a man who was unlikely to gain legitimate angry into any half decent venue in Ning Dang Po, The Pan knew the ‘back way’ into most places. Ditzy’s was no exception. The gents had a large sash window which was usually open a little bit, even on the chilliest nights and looked out onto narrow service lane at the back. OK so it was on the first floor rather than ground level but that wasn’t so much of a problem. He’d climb in there and then ask the first being who came to in for a wee if they’d fetch Deaf Marlon for him. Yeh. That’s what he’d do. Then he’d explain to Deaf Marlon that Big Merv wanted him back at his office and leave the way he’d come in. Deaf Marlon could leave whichever way he liked; through the entrance, like one of the normals, or via the back window with The Pan.
‘Right,’ The Pan said to himself, ‘that’s Plan B sorted.’ He almost felt smug for a moment; rubbing his hands together, in a let’s get this done, kind of manner, he took one stride and stopped. There was someone there. Further along, in the shadows. Smeck! This was turning out to be complicated. No, he mustn’t panic. He wasn’t necessarily about to get mugged. He tried a tentative, ‘Hello?’
There was a hiccup.
‘Is there anyone there?’ he asked quietly.
There was a sniff this time as well as a hiccup and then the female from earlier, the one Stan and Norm had barred, stepped timidly out of the shadow. She’d been crying. Not surprising really, The Pan reflected, and all her eye make up had run.
‘Sorry,’ another sniff, ‘I must look like a panda.’
‘It’s OK.’
The Pan was caught off guard but as someone who was on the receiving end of Smart Dennis’ petty vindictiveness day in, day out he could totally sympathise.
‘It’s my sister’s hen night,’ she said sadly. ‘She’ll think I’ve gone home.’
‘I know, I saw. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s OK babes.’
‘I doubt it’s red night in there, either.’
‘I got that,’ she said. ‘I’m not stupid.’
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to—’
‘S alright babes, I know.’
Before he could stop himself, The Pan found himself saying, ‘If you still want to go in there, I can get you in the back way if you want.’
What was he doing? This was no time to take pity on some daft woman. Never mind, it was too late now. She perked up at once.
‘You can?’
‘I think so.’
‘You’re not just saying that?’
‘No. I mean, it’s a gamble because I haven’t checked yet but usually they leave the window open in the gents.’
‘If it’s anything like the ladies, they have to,’ she laughed, pulled a handkerchief from her tiny handbag and blew her nose. ‘What am I like?’ she giggled and fanned her face with one hand.
‘It was your sister’s hen night. It’s only normal to feel upset. Although,’ a beat, ‘Are you sure you want to go back in. She didn’t come back out to find you.’
‘She can’t. They’ll make her pay to go in again.’
‘Blimey, that’s a bit steep. Are they allowed to do that?’
‘No but it’s happened before. Even if she does come out, they’ll say I went home won’t they?’
‘I guess. Right then, if you’re OK walking into a dark alley with me, we’d better get going. I’m in a bit of a hurry.’
‘Ha!’ she laughed. ‘I could knock your block off babes, no trouble.’
‘That’s very probable, most people could knock my block off,’ The Pan said. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Shanice.’
‘Well Shanice, shall we go and do a bit of breaking and entering?’ he said and the two of them headed off down the service lane that led to the back of the club.
Down the dark alley to one side of Ditzy’s The Pan and Shanice climbed onto some giant wheelie bins, or dumpsters as the Grongles called them, and surveyed the window above them. It was a little higher than head height but it was open and there was plenty of room to climb through. The bin wobbled a bit as The Pan pulled himself up and looked in.
‘No-one there,’ he said as he landed lightly beside her. ‘I think we’re in the clear.’
‘Thanks babes,’ she said.
‘Before we go in, would you do me a favour once we’re inside?’
‘Sure.’
‘For reasons I can’t go into, I have to stay here but I’ve been paid to deliver a message to a guy in there called Deaf Marlon. He’s about my height, maybe taller, and he will be wearing a tweed sports jacket with a polo neck jumper underneath. He usually has a sketch book and draws the clubbers around him.
‘Oh yes, I know him, I seen him down The Big Thing before now,’ said Shanice.
Arnold be praised!
‘Can you give him a message? Can you tell him The Pan of Hamgee has a message from his boss and is waiting for him in the gents.’
‘Course I can,’ she said.
‘Thanks. He’s deaf so you have to look at him, because he’ll need to read your lips.’
‘Yeh I can do that.’
‘Thanks. Bunk?’ he asked her. He bent down and she stood on his linked hands. ‘One, two, three,’ he said hefting her upwards on the ‘three’. She squirmed her way into the window. After a second or two she reappeared, leaning out, her blonde hair framed by the light behind her and blew him a kiss.
‘Mwah! Arnold bless you babe, you have, Saved. My. Life,’ she told him.
‘Any time. You won’t forget about the message will you?’
‘Course not.’
‘Thanks. Have fun.’
‘Catch you later babes.’
She waved and ducked back inside. He heard her heels clacking across the tiled floor and the squeak of the hinges as she opened the first of the two doors that led back into the club.
The Pan smiled to himself. That had been a lucky break.
