Stonemouth полностью

It was true I’d thought about what would happen if things changed and the Murstons were busted as a family. What would Ellie and I do if Donald and the boys were thrown into prison? How would Ellie be affected? She wouldn’t be implicated, would she? Could I be, just by association? If they bought us a flat, could we lose it? Frankly it didn’t worry me that much because I couldn’t see it happening. But you’d be stupid not to think about it.

Alan nodded, looked serious. ‘Well, I’m glad you say only a little. That’s … that’s very realistic, that’s very mature.’ He laughed. ‘Listen to me; that sounded patronising, didn’t it? Beg your pardon, Stewart. Guess I’m just relieved. Thing is, we live in a less than ideal world, do we not? In an ideal world maybe we’d have a more evidence-led, harm-reduction-based set of drug laws, but the brutal truth is that we don’t live in an ideal world; nothing like it. We have to do the best with what we’re faced with. As long as it remains political suicide to talk about legalisation, we’re all faced with trying to cope the best we can with our current laws, irrational though they may be, and also with the fact that people just like getting wasted, stoned, out of their heads one way or another, legal or not and whether we like it or not.’ He tapped his whisky glass with one manicured fingernail, grinning briefly before going back to serious mode. ‘One way or another we have to manage the problem. We need, in effect, to emplace our own harm-reduction programme in the absence of one agreed on internationally or even nationally. And that, frankly, is where Donald and Mike come in. Along with the local police, of course — we are all in this together. Forgive the cliché.’

‘You’re a politician,’ I said. ‘Isn’t it up to you guys to start changing things?’

Alan laughed indulgently. ‘Oh, I’m just a humble MEP. My hands are tied. In case you hadn’t noticed, my constituents choose me; I don’t choose them.’ He paused, smiled, as though waiting for the applause to die down. ‘I’d have to wait for a sea-change back here in dear old Blighty before I could join any consensus in Brussels. Sticking your head above the parapet on drugs just gets it blown off, then you’re no good to anyone.’

‘So we’re waiting for Rupert Murdoch’s heirs to take over, or Lord Rothermere’s, before it’s safe? Assuming they have a more rational set of views.’

Alan laughed quietly. ‘Well, if it was even that simple … The thing is, rationality is like probity, incorruptibility: awfully desirable in theory, but you’ll waste your life if you wait for it to become … the default, as it were. The kind of papers and attitudes we’re talking about might seem full of transparent nonsense to you and me, but they work; they sell, they’re popular, and when it comes to how people vote …’ He drew in a deep, dearie-me-type breath through his teeth. ‘Well, either the masses are as conservative and right-wing as they vote, if you see what I mean, or they’re terribly easily fooled and deserve what they get for being that gullible, frankly. Neither speaks very well of them, or us as a species, you could argue, but there we are, that’s what we’re faced with.’ He sipped from his drink. ‘Bankers’ bonuses all round, eh?’ He nodded as his gaze wandered round the others in the room. ‘I think you’ll find that same attitude, with a leaning towards the not-conservative-just-fools choice, is shared by pretty much everybody in this room. Doesn’t make us bad people, Stewart, just makes us smart and the rest not. But, yes, you obviously appreciate the problem.’

I leaned in a bit closer. So did he. ‘Yeah,’ I said quietly, ‘but it’s still all a load of shite, though, isn’t it?’

He smiled. ‘I’m afraid it is, Stewart,’ he said, and sighed. ‘I’m afraid it is.’ He inspected his glass. ‘We all start out as idealists. I certainly did. I hope I still am, deep down. But idealism meets the real world sooner or later, and then you just have to …’

‘Compromise.’

‘I hope you’re not one of those people who thinks that’s a dirty word,’ Alan said, with a forgiving, understanding expression. (I just smiled.) ‘Marriage is about compromising,’ he told me. ‘Families are about compromising, being anything other than a hermit is about compromising. Parliamentary democracy certainly is.’ He snorted. ‘Nothing but.’ He drained his glass. ‘You either learn to compromise or you resign yourself to shouting from the sidelines for the rest of your life.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘Or you arrange to become a dictator. There’s always that, I suppose.’ He shrugged. ‘Not a great set of choices, really, but that’s the price we pay for living together. And it’s that or solitude. Then you really do become a wanker. Another drink?’

A red Toyota estate swings into the bus stop, splashing to a halt right at the entrance. The person inside leans over, reaching to push open the passenger side door.