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booshslashhavenPart 1.
There's Some Bad Ju-Ju Going Down Here.
Part 2.
He couldn't find that calm he was looking for. That calm as if nothing would ever go wrong again. He had had it, those few seconds his hands were around Noel's throat, those seconds he was holding Noel's life in his hands.
Everything was a mess now, he couldn't concentrate. He could hardly walk straight, he must look a complete fool. His head buzzed with all the sounds of London and his eyes hurt being out in the bright light. It needed to stop, make it all stop!
He turned a corner, moving more on instinct than logic. He just knew that he needed to go this way.
He had to get to Television Centre as quickly as possible, he couldn't live like this. His whole body was shaking and icy beads of sweat were forming along his spine. He knew that he was standing up straight but he might as well be lying on the ground, slowly spinning round and round.
A cab. He needed a cab.
He hobbled out into the street, clenching his teeth to keep his balance, and waved at the passing cars.
"Julian!"
You would think you could get lost in a big city like London, but no, there was always someone there to bump into.
Bad Ju-Ju refused to look up, concentrating on the cars rushing by.
"How are you?" came that same voice again, closer this time, and Bad Ju-Ju found himself being drawn into a hug.
Sue, of course. She was everywhere, wasn't she? Just like Dee. Oh, and there was Chris too, nodding at him. Chris and Sue might as well go and get surgically attached at the hip; it wouldn't make much of a difference.
Bad Ju-Ju grunted something non-committal and turned back to the cars.
"You'll be at Noel and Dee's later today, yeah?" Sue asked, unable, it seemed, to take a hint, "Dinner? You and Julia?"
He turned to her and gave her his most brutal glare.
"Piss off."
She stared at him a moment in disbelief and her lower lip began trembled. But then her whole face broke into a wide grin and she laughed.
"Oh, Julian, you almost had me a second there."
He had heard so many stories about Sue's temper but he'd never, ever seen it, like some sort of mythical beast that only other people saw. She was always happy when he met her, sickeningly so. Too much sticky-sweet soppiness always made him wrench and her smile infuriated him now.
And Chris, the nobody everyone adores. He never seemed to belong to this world and yet everything always revolved around him.
He might as well kill them too, it could help set the world right. Or at least make his shivering stop. It was as if his bones were trying to escape from his body, pinching at every muscle.
"So," Sue asked, one hand on narrow hip, "Are you coming to Noel and Dee's tonight?"
He took a small step closer, ready to snap her neck in one swift blow. She just stood there, as if she had never seen an evil thing in her life, her face so open and so vulnerable. So trusting. How could he even dream of hurting her? She reminded him of Julia, the only person he loved as much as he loved Noel. If he hurt Sue it'd be like hurting Julia and he'd never do that.
"I've killed The Horrors," he heard himself say, as if confessing to a priest, "I'm off to kill Russell Brand now. I'll probably come back and kill Noel later today."
Sue glanced ever so quickly at Chris and then back at Bad Ju-Ju.
"Whatever you say, Barratt. So we'll see you tonight, then?" She wanted to think that he was joking, but Bad Ju-Ju had seen the tiny flicker of uncertainty she sent Chris. He wasn't joking.
"I think you should go home," Chris said, "You don't look well, maybe you're ill."
"I'm fine," Bad Ju-Ju snapped, anger suddenly rising inside him. How dared Chris of all people suggest that he was ill? Hadn't Chris seen himself in a mirror? If anyone was ill, it was him, all pale and sickly-thin.
But he couldn't hurt Chris either; that would be like hurting Sue.
"You're a twat, Corner," he hissed, the sharp pain in his chest stabbing him again, almost knocking him backwards, "Fuck off, you make me sick, you and your alternative lifestyle. You're not alternative, all you care about is making money."
"Julian, what are you on about?" Sue asked, taking a step closer, hand on his arm, "Are you sure you're okay?"
But Bad Ju-Ju only half heard her, batting her hand away fiercely. He was only interested in watching Chris. Because Chris never let his emotions show other than in the tiniest movements of the muscles round his mouth or an almost invisible flash in his eyes.
"Who releases the same album twice, just two years apart? You money-hungry, thieving little bastard. You've completely sold out, Corner. You say you don't care about the money but you do, so much. You make me sick."
But Chris didn't react. What was he made of, stone and ice? He really didn't live in this world, did he? What was the point anyway, why did Bad Ju-Ju even try talking to him?
He turned unsteadily and waved at a passing cab and it stopped. Bad Ju-Ju opened the door, digging his hand into the door handle, forcing himself to stay upright, his body threatening to collapse any second. He managed to crawl in and as he told the cabdriver where he wanted to go, he saw Sue and Chris standing flabbergasted on the pavement still, staring after him as if they'd just seen a phoenix go up in flames before their eyes.
*
Either they were very lucky or they had caught a magic cab. All in all it was very Boosh-like and they reached the HMV where Mike worked a lot faster than normal.
Noel climbed out of the cab, his stomach lurching with nervous anticipation, and they went inside.
The shop was its usual busy self except for the DVD-section, where only minutes earlier the Boosh DVDs had been lined up tidily on their shelf. The floor was now strewn with paper, plastic and broken discs like some sort of futuristic roadkill. Noel recognised his own face looking up at him, head ripped from body, and his heart sank, ready to give up the whole mission. Was this what Julian had done to The Horrors? And was it what he was planning on doing to Noel?
It was hopeless.
"They're just things," Julia whispered, coming up to him and slipping her hand into his, "No-one was killed this time."
And Noel understood why Julian loved her: just with these simple, softly-delivered words she warmed his heart and he knew that everything would be fine, because they were all here together.
"I know," he said, trying to smile but failing, the muscles in his face still frozen, "I know."
"We should move," James said, "There's no point in following him: we need to get ahead of him and stop him."
"Come on," Julia said, squeezing Noel's hand, "Let's go."
"Yeah," Noel said, managing finally to pull his eyes away from the massacre on the floor, "We're sticking to our plan."
He left the shop, James and Julia following him. It was as if he was a little closer to evil-Julian now, as if he had been given a tiny glimpse into his mind. And Julian wasn't evil; he was frustrated. Frustrated at the world and at himself, but mostly at Noel.
Noel bit his lip as he waited impatiently for Dee to finish telling Mike everything that had happened. Had he really been that blind? Had he really managed to go all these years without seeing that Julian wasn't happy?
Why hadn't Julian told him? Noel frowned, suddenly angry. They shared everything, why hadn't Julian said anything? Noel told him everything always. That's what being human is: sharing.
But then he remembered something Julian had said many years ago, a couple of months after they'd started performing Boosh. Something Julian had said when he was very drunk and more asleep than awake: "I just want you to be happy, Noel". Was this Julian's way of making sure that Noel was happy: not telling him that he himself wasn't, so that Noel wouldn't worry?
"Okay, let's go!" Dee chirped, joining them, "Mike told me to tell you you're mad, Noel. He would've told you himself but he's got customers."
*
"Is that Sue and Chris?" James asked, pointing at a couple some hundred yards in front of them.
"Dunno," Noel answered, "Looks like it."
"It is," Dee answered, "Honestly, how long have you known them? Don't you even recognise them? Come on."
They hurried after Sue and Chris and caught up with them, Dee flinging her arms around Sue's waist and almost tackling her to the ground. Sue screamed, making passers-by turn, and Dee giggled, giving Sue a huge bear-hug.
"I thought you were a mugger, Dee-Dee," Sue said, recovering herself, hand on her chest, "God."
"Yeah, that's right: I'm God," Dee answered. But Sue was no longer listening; she'd noticed Noel and was giggling her blonde little head off.
"Hallo, spaceboy," she managed between giggles and held up her hand like a Vulcan, "Live long and prosper."
"That's what I said," Dee said, "Well, the 'spaceboy' thing. Same brain, you and me, Bowie."
"Why are you in your mirrorball suit?" Chris asked and turned to Julia and James, "Oh, hello!"
James nodded at him and Julia smiled.
"We're hunting for Julian," Noel said.
"Oh!" Sue interrupted, "We just met him, didn't we, Chris? He didn't look too well."
"You met him?" Noel said, the words tumbling from his mouth like plastic beads, "He didn't hurt you, did he? Where's he going?"
"Hurt us? No," Sue said, "He said he was going to kill Russell Brand. He really didn't look well, he was pale and sweating."
"Like a fever," Chris added, "He said he'd killed something horrible?"
"The Horrors," Noel said, his stomach lurching as he remembered that phonecall from Faris, "They're a... they were a band. Until Julian... y'know."
"Are you saying Julian's murdered someone?" Sue asked in disbelief, placing her hand on her hip like a mother about to tell her kid off.
Noel nodded slowly, wishing so badly he didn't have to.
"He said he was going to kill you later today," Chris said.
"Oh, he is," Dee said matter-of-factly, "He's already tried once."
"I thought Julian was ill," Sue said, "Looks like I was wrong: you're all ill."
" 'Fraid you're wrong, doll," Dee answered, "We're fine. Julian's gone mad because Noel shaved his moustache off."
Sue stared at Dee a second, trying hard not to giggle again.
"Dee. Sweetheart. Do you have ears? Can you hear what you're saying?"
"That makes sense," Chris said slowly, biting his lip in thought, "No moustache: his inner evil's released out into his conscious mind. Like a ripped condom."
"I prefer the image of a dam bursting, but whatever you say, mon petit," Dee answered.
"You actually believe this nonsense?" Sue asked, turning to Chris.
"Yes," Chris answered, "It's like a Boosh adventure. And now Noel has to stop him. Do you want help, Noel?" He turned his deep, dark eyes to Noel, boring into him as if reading his mind.
"The more the merrier," Dee answered before Noel could open his mouth, "We're going to NME headquarters."
"Russell Brand doesn't work at NME, he works for the BBC or something, doesn't he?" Sue said, still not convinced.
"Julian'll be going to NME afterwards," Noel answered.
"How do you know?"
"I just do. Is Vince ever wrong?"
"I suppose not," Sue said, rolling her eyes, "Not when it comes to Howard, at least."
"As if they're lovers," Chris added, mostly to himself.
"So? Coming?" Dee asked.
"Yeah, alright," Sue sighed, "We haven't got much on anyway, might as well waste our last day in London chasing after a madman at NME headquarters."
*
Bad Ju-Ju could hardly stand up as he got out of the cab at Television Centre. He had no balance, this was worse than being blind drunk. His whole body hurt, as if every bone was on fire. He screwed up his face and made his way to the entrance, pulling his feet with him as if wading through sticky weeds.
Sheer willpower and the overwhelming, all-consuming hunger for murder were the only things that kept him on his feet as he wandered corridor after corridor, searching for Russell Brand. He would have dropped down just here and slept till the end of all time if he could. But he couldn't. He needed to find Russell Brand, needed to kill him so that he would have enough energy inside him to kill Noel later.
He found himself in a corridor he remembered vaguely, like from a dream he'd rather forget. He'd been here before. And it had not been a good experience. It had been one of the worst interviews he'd ever done, so awkward and embarrassing. The only thing that had kept him together was Noel there next to him. Noel was a natural at interviews, he could just chat and people would listen and laugh. That idiot Julian Barratt always seemed like a joke sitting next to him, as if he was Noel's sidekick or boring uncle. And being interviewed by Jonathan Ross of all people didn't exactly make things better.
Bad Ju-Ju's hand was on a door handle and he went in, not truly knowing what he was doing.
Behind the door he found Jonathan Ross sitting alone reading a newspaper and looking very peaceful and calm. If Bad Ju-Ju could have that calm back! Oh, to be let out of the hell that was this pain driving him desperate.
Jonathan Ross looked up at Bad Ju-Ju and smiled his slightly loop-sided smile.
"Julian? Fancy seeing you here. How are you? You don't look very well, I must say."
Bad Ju-Ju tried to answer but his throat was dry like dust and refused to work. He went over to Jonathan Ross, trying to keep from swaying too much.
"Did you want anything?" Jonathan Ross asked, looking questioningly up at Bad Ju-Ju advancing on him.
"Yes," Bad Ju-Ju managed to croak and lunged forward and wrapped his hands around Jonathan Ross's throat, "Life."
Jonathan Ross gasped and tried to pull away but Bad Ju-Ju was stronger, holding on with every last fibre in his body. Jonathan Ross's fingers clawed at Bad Ju-Ju's hands and his mouth worked ferociously, but to no avail.
The harder Bad Ju-Ju squeezed, the stronger he seemed to grow, as if Jonathan Ross's ebbing life was seeping into his hands and spreading throughout his body. He drew a deep breath, the pain in his chest residing, and his head cleared as if the mist in front of his eyes had been blown away. He was alive again!
Jonathan Ross was growing limp now, his face blue-tinged. He was so heavy, slipping out of his chair, and yet Bad Ju-Ju didn't notice, his own body so much stronger than it had ever been before.
He gave Jonathan Ross's neck a final squeeze and let the body slip to the floor where it landed haphazardly like a bag half-filled with sand.
Bad Ju-Ju stretched his arms above his head and his chest seemed to expand, as if to give room to this new life soaring through his body.
He grinned. He had never been happier. He could do anything now, there was nothing in the world that could stop him.
*
"But why NME? They're not even that good."
"Because Noel likes them and they like Noel."
"Noel's Musical Express."
"Noel's Minging Entourage, more like."
"Not Mightily Exciting."
"Not Mightily Experienced."
"You sound like one of those idiots on 'Nathan Barley'."
"Nathan: More Experienced than Noel."
"Nice, Mighty, Excellent. No More Exaggerations, please!"
"Not Musically Exciting."
"No Musical Energy."
"Naughty Mice Explode?"
"Shut up, Noel. You and your stupid 'comedy'."
"Noel Must be Excommunicated."
"No Music Excels."
"Except IAMX."
"Se taire, Dee-Dee."
"No-one Must Expect anything."
"And Nemo."
"Shut up, James."
Noel sat back in the cab taking them to NME and turned to look out of the window. Why should he try to be a part of their conversation if they were just going to make fun of him? So what if they didn't laugh, he didn't make jokes for them. He made jokes for one person and one person only: Julian.
It had been fun doing stand-up all those years ago on his own, but it had never been more than a passing thing then, something he did when he had a bit of spare time on his hands. There was nothing driving him then, as if he was slowly sinking into mud without realising. Only after he'd met Julian had he found his goal: to make Julian laugh.
It was the best thing ever, seeing Julian laugh. His whole face glowed with life and those short, sweet seconds he seemed completely carefree. It wasn't easy getting close to Julian, as if he lived in his own fortress. But when he laughed he let down the barriers around himself and let Noel have a glimpse of his inner life, if only for a tiny, tiny moment. And so Noel did anything to make Julian laugh.
And now Noel had to rescue him. Rescue him from himself, from his own evil thoughts.
It had been good meeting Chris, as if Chris knew what Noel was going through. Chris always seemed to understand everything, like he knew every secret to the world, to the universe and to life itself. Noel felt safe with Chris here, hip to hip as the cab hurried them through London.
Only now, when he was sitting down, did he realise how completely exhausted he was. All day had been one big worry, first almost being killed and then hearing The Horrors dying and then the smash-up at HMV. And on top of that there was James's moody self to avoid. And Dee. And now Sue too. At least Dee and James knew what Julian was capable of. Sue still didn't believe it. Would she make things difficult for him? It was hard enough keeping track of everyone and making sure that they were safe. And now her, stirring up doubt.
He really didn't need this. Why, oh why had he gone and shaved Julian's moustache off? He was such a cunt sometimes! He could kick himself so violently. All he ever did was think of himself. Could anyone be more selfish?
At least he was being punished for it now, having to run all round London trying to catch Julian before he committed more murders. And at the same time trying to avoid being killed himself.
It was the stupidest thing, bringing all the others with him. They weren't safe here. Julian wanted him and he'd do anything to get at him. He'd already killed five, how many more could he get through? Noel didn't know how mad Julian had grown now. Would he kill the others to get at him?
And even if they managed to stay alive, how would they stop Julian? Noel had no idea. How does one stop a moustache-less madman? They needed his moustache to grow back, but how long would that take? And how would they keep Julian from killing them while they waited? And stop him from shaving, too?
Oh, Noel hated this! The others were expecting him to know the answers to these questions. He was in charge now. It was all well and good comparing it to a Boosh adventure, but Vince was a natural leader. Noel wasn't. People were instantly attracted to Vince and willing to follow him. People always questioned Noel, never truly trusting him even if he was right.
He rubbed at his forehead, willing it all to be over. Maybe the cab would get involved in a car crash and they'd no longer need to worry about Julian?
He must have sighed or something because Chris put his hand on top of Noel's and squeezed gently. It was such a simple gesture and yet so reassuring. Noel wanted to let Chris know how much he appreciated it, but he couldn't move, as if he'd been frozen to the spot, paralysed both by the trust everyone placed in him and by the fear of failure. But Chris understood. Chris always understands.
*
Like glitter in his bloodstream. Like walking on sunshine, like music in his ears. Exhilarating sensations roaring through him with every breath he took.
He strode along a corridor untouchable as if he owned the place. His body seemed to overflow with energy. There was just too much of it, bubbling through him, almost chocking him with the joy of being alive.
The world seemed so much brighter than it had ever been before, every colour more vibrant, every sound more intense, everything just more beautiful. How had he not noticed before? And to think, once Noel was dead he'd live in this über-world forever.
Ah, Noel. Little flower still blooming. Winter will come soon now, just you wait and see. There'll be nothing left but dust and happiness once you're gone.
His whole body tingled with anticipation as he thought of wrapping his hands around Noel's neck again, feeling his pulse quicken and then slow and finally stop altogether against his palm.
*
They pushed open the door to NME headquarters and were met by a closed glass gate and a reception. The only way to get in was to be let in by the receptionist, a bored-looking girl in her mid-twenties.
Dee approached her fearlessly and leant on the counter.
"Hi, we're here for the interview."
"What interview?" the receptionist asked, "No-one conducts interviews here; the journalists go to the bands, not the other way round."
"No, this is a very special interview," Dee insisted, "Tim Jonez called us and asked us to come here specially."
"Must have been a crank call," the receptionist answered, "I'll phone him and ask."
"No need," James said, stepping forward, pulling Noel with him, "We'll just wait for him here."
"It's no trouble," the receptionist said, turning to James. She noticed Noel and froze, as if blinded by awe.
"Flirt with her," James whispered to Noel, giving him a little push.
"I can't do that," Noel whispered back, taken aback by such a suggestion. He could chat to random girls he met at clubs and gigs if they were a bit tipsy, but not randomly flirt outright with a girl in broad daylight. And right in front of Dee, too.
"Just do it, she might let us in," James hissed, giving Noel another push so that Noel almost fell against the counter.
"Hi," he said to the receptionist, trying to smile bravely, "Alright?"
"Hi," she answered breathlessly, eyes shining, "You're Noel Fielding."
"I am," Noel answered and held out his hand, "Nice to meet you, er...?"
"Mary," the receptionist answered in a rush and took his hand shyly, "I saw your live show five times. It was brilliant."
"Aww, thanks," Noel answered, "I'm glad you liked it." It always made him happy meeting people who liked what he was doing.
"Oh, I did, so much," she answered, "I've never laughed harder."
"Make her let us in," James whispered tensely in Noel's ear.
"You know, Mary," Noel said, flashing Mary his most dazzling smile, "We'd really like to get in. If you let us in, I'll draw you a picture, yeah?"
"Um... okay," Mary answered, still staring up at Noel as if she couldn't quite believe that he was real, "Thank you!"
"No, no, thank you," Noel answered, leaning over the counter to fish out some paper and a pen, "Any requests, Mary?"
"No," she answered, almost unable to speak, "Anything you like."
So Noel wrote 'To Mary. Lots of love, Noel. xxxx' in huge letters across the paper and began filling in the spaces in the corners with little Boosh figures. A row of monkey skulls held together with barbed wire, Tony Harrison shouting 'The Boosh is loose', the Hitcher and his thumb and then Rudi with the door in his afro in the last corner.
As he made the last few lines on Rudi's face, it was as if Julian was looking up at him from the paper, the old Julian that Noel loved more than anyone. He needed that Julian back, he needed him so badly it hurt. His life had no meaning if Julian wasn't in it. The world might as well end the day Julian left him.
"Hurry up," Dee whispered, snapping him out of his thoughts like a horsewhip across his back.
"Here, Mary," Noel said, giving her the paper and smiling as broadly as he could muster, "Keep it real, yeah?"
"Thank you!" Mary said, her eyes shining like stars, "Thank you."
"But, y'know, we really should be getting to that interview..."
"Yes, of course," she said and pressed a button to open the gate, "Good luck."
"Cheers," Noel said and gave her a little wave, "See you on the way out, babe."
And they were inside NME headquarters.
"Where now?" Dee asked as she pressed the button to the lift.
"We can't go upstairs," Sue said, looking at the plaque on the wall.
"Downstairs," Noel said, "Julian won't want to be seen either, I don't think he'll go upstairs right away."
"We should have a look-out," Dee said, "To see where Julian's headed."
"There's nowhere to hide," James said as they looked around. And there wasn't; the foyer was pretty much bare except for a couple of plants in the corner, glass doors leading to the stairs and a couple of other doors too.
"Behind those plants?" Julia asked, "There might be room."
"Only for someone extremely thin," Dee answered and turned to Chris with a glimmer in her eyes, "Like young Corner here."
Noel's stomach fell, as if someone had just punched him. Would he have to leave Chris behind? Wouldn't he have Chris with him any longer? He had counted on having Chris's calm, logical mind there next to him, guiding him along like some sort of fairy godmother. How would he manage now?
"Fine," Chris said and nodded, "I'll phone you when I see him coming."
"Don't you dare call Noel's phone," Dee said, "Not with his ringtone."
Chris smiled mischievously and nodded.
"I'll phone you, Dee-Dee."
The lift arrived with a tiny pling and the doors slid open.
"Better go then," James said.
"Good luck, Corner," Dee said, patting Chris on the head and ruffling his hair before following James and Julia into the lift.
Sue gave him a kiss on the cheek and a smile before she too went into the lift.
Chris met Noel's eyes, deep and calm, and took a step closer and brushed his cheek against Noel's.
"I hear moustaches grow better if they're kissed," he whispered into Noel's ear, "And music helps too."
He pulled away and smiled reassuringly, his hand on Noel's arm. Strange how this tiny, distant man could be so warm, his touch warming Noel right to the heart and Noel felt a little bit braver.
"Thanks," Noel answered, almost choking on his words, "Be careful."
"I will," Chris answered, "And so will you."
And he left, walking over to the plants in the corner and hiding behind them. It was a tight squeeze but he managed it without disturbing the huge leaves and suddenly he was gone, only visible to those who already knew he was standing there.
"Noel, come on," Dee said and Noel shook himself and joined the others in the lift.
*
"Julian! Hi!" Russell Brand grinned at him as if his life depended on it. Which, come to think of it, it did.
Bad Ju-Ju closed the door to Russell's dressing room and locked it.
"I hate you," he said simply and went up to Russell, "I'm going to kill you."
Russell's smile faltered a split-second before it returned in all its toothy glory.
"Oh, Julian, you are terribly amusing."
"No," Bad Ju-Ju answered, "Serious. Deadly serious."
He grabbed hold of Russell's hair and the gasp that came from Russell's mouth fired him up, like whiskey burning in his stomach.
This was going to be fun, a bit of torture.
Russell was babbling now, some inaudible gibberish Bad Ju-Ju didn't care about. Probably pleading for his life or something futile like that.
Bad Ju-Ju rummaged around on Russell's dressing table with his free hand and found what he was looking for: a razor.
"I like your beard," he said softly, meeting Russell's fear-filled eyes, "Let's get rid of it, shall we?"
"No! Not the beard! Anything but the beard! Julian, please."
"Why not?" Bad Ju-Ju found himself strangely intrigued.
"You can't take my beard. If I lose my beard, I lose all my comic powers. Like Samson."
Bad Ju-Ju stopped in his tracks, the razor just touching Russell's cheek. Was that it? Was that what had saved him from boring old Julian Barratt, his moustache being shaved off?
Yes, it was, that had to be it: there was no other explanation.
But what would happen when it started growing back again? Would he regress back into Julian Barratt then? What a horrible thought! He couldn't have that. He'd have to keep his face clean-shaven.
He turned to the mirror over Russell's dressing table and studied his face. Was that a slight shadow on his upper lip? Was his moustache growing back already?
Russell wrenched violently against his grip and pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Oh no, you don't," Bad Ju-Ju answered, tightening his grip on Russell's hair, "The fun's only just started."
"Julian, please let me go," Russell pleaded, "Please! I don't know what I've done but I swear I'll never do it again!"
"You won't," Bad Ju-Ju said, letting the razor slip along Russell's cheek, two shallow cuts following in its wake, "You won't be able to."
Russell was fighting harder now, arms flailing everywhere, scratching at Bad Ju-Ju's face and clothes, feet kicking at Bad Ju-Ju's shins. But Bad Ju-Ju didn't notice. All he could think of was how Russell's blood was forming tiny beads along the cut he had made. So he made more. And every time, tiny droplets of blood peeked out like shy bunnies looking out of their nests. Soon they grew too big and started overflowing, trickling down Russell's cheek like red ribbons.
"Julian! Fucking...! Let me go, you madman!"
This struggle was getting a bit boring, Bad Ju-Ju reflected as he made another cut along Russell's forehead. Maybe it was time to end it all. As much as he enjoyed standing here with Russell's life in his hands as if he owned it, he knew he wouldn't be properly happy until Russell was dead.
So he dropped the razor and took hold of Russell's shoulder with his free hand and hauled him over to the dressing table.
"Ready to say beddy bye-bye to the world, ikle Russell?" he asked, as if talking to a baby, grinning down at Russell's terrified face.
"Julian, please," Russell whispered, his voice made raw with shouting, "Please. Julian, I beg you."
"Denied," Bad Ju-Ju answered simply and with all his might he brought Russell Brand's head down towards the table. Russell's neck hit the table edge and snapped with a satisfying crunch. Russell's eyes met Bad Ju-Ju's a second before lolling in different directions like a puppet.
The dead body was suddenly much heavier and Bad Ju-Ju almost dropped it as Russell's last breath faded. Bad Ju-Ju hoisted him up by the hair and leant him against the table as he rummaged around again, looking for scissors this time.
He found a pair and began cutting his way through Russell Brand's neck, cutting the head off the body.
It was tough work, but Bad Ju-Ju didn't mind. He couldn't remember being happier. He could stay here all day, listening to the soft sound of blood dripping to the floor and the scissors snipping through flesh. The bruises Russell had inflicted on him started smarting but he didn't mind. They brought him back to earth, as if he had been floating off to nowhere, still high from the new life rushing through his veins.
Finally Russell's head was loose. Bad Ju-Ju held it up, letting the lifeless body slip to the floor with a dull thud.
"Nothing to say, Brand?" he asked the rust-red, messy face, "Cat got your tongue? Or, maybe it's Dr Bad Ju-Ju Pettifer who's got your tongue?"
He found Russell's bag on a chair and popped the head into it, together with the scissors and the razor, and off he went, his step unusually springy as if dancing on lilies.
*
They had left the lifts and Noel had walked along a couple of corridors, not knowing where he was going or what he was doing. The others had followed unquestioningly and Noel's heart had started to sink again. They still trusted him and believed that he had everything under control.
But then he had turned a corner and found himself in a dead end, long like a corridor but much wider than the previous. The ceiling was white with white pipes running along and stacks of chairs by the wall. And he knew this was it: this was where he'd meet evil-Julian again.
He didn't know how long they had been here now; he couldn't make himself ask for the time, afraid that the others would see how nervous he was. He had to keep up the façade, he had to pretend that he was certain that their plan would work. It was the most demanding piece of acting he had ever done. Usually he was just himself onscreen or onstage, but now he had to be something he was not: he had to be confident where he really wanted to run away and hide until it was all over.
Dee and Sue were sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall, Dee with her legs out in front of her and Sue with her knees tucked under her chin and Dee's CD in her hand, both of them in their own little world. In fact everyone seemed to be locked inside their own minds, jerking awake at the tiniest sound but not really registering the others in the room. Julia was sitting on a chair unmoving, hands on her stomach protectively, and James was pacing back and forth, head hanging low and hands in his waistcoat pockets.
Noel could almost touch the tension in the room, thick like fog.
How long had they been here now? Wouldn't Chris phone soon? Please phone, if only to tell us you're safe.
*
Noel wouldn't be at home. He wasn't stupid, he wouldn't stay there. Where could he be? Bad Ju-Ju pushed open the doors to BBC Television Centre and drew a deep breath, letting the chilly air prick his lungs. Russell Brand's bag hung heavy against his side, bumping softly against his hip as he walked, reassuring. Oh, if people knew what was in it, what would they think?
But Noel... How much would Noel know by now? He'd know about those DVDs, that had been Mike's job. (Bad Ju-Ju had realised this as he left; he had seen Mike staring up at him, shocked.) And Sue and Chris would probably have told him about their little encounter too. He should have killed them when he had the chance.
But then again, if Noel knew where Bad Ju-Ju was, perhaps he was following him? Perhaps Bad Ju-Ju would bump into him around the next corner?
Bad Ju-Ju scratched his naked chin. Or, maybe Noel thought he could predict Bad Ju-Ju's next step and had gone somewhere completely different?
That last possibility seemed the most plausible; Noel always liked to think that he could understand people.
Where would Noel think Bad Ju-Ju would go next? Bad Ju-Ju wandered down the street away from Television Centre, mulling this over. What he wanted most was Noel and since he had been interrupted in killing him this morning, he had gone after other things Noel cared about: The Horrors, the Boosh DVDs, interviewers and Russell Brand. Noel would figure that out, wouldn't he? And if Noel didn't then Dee most certainly would.
Therefore, Noel was probably waiting somewhere there was something he cared about. His parents' house? (Bad Ju-Ju had nothing against them, why would he hurt them?) Mike's flat? (Ditto.) Dave's flat? (And again.) Wherever Rich was staying? (And again.) Razorlight's flat? (Did they share a flat? And weren't they on tour anyway?) Gary Numan's flat? (Did Noel even know where Gary Numan lived? Bad Ju-Ju hoped not, that was just weird. And why would Bad Ju-Ju want to kill Gary Numan?) The Hen and Chicken? (Sweet place but why destroy it, it didn't mean anything any more.) Nuts magazine HQ? (Not even Noel cared much for them.) NME?
NME.
Of course. Noel liked the NME. And for some reason they seemed to like him too. Granted, the last thing they'd written had been about Julian Barratt and Rich, but that certainly didn't make things better. On the contrary.
NME it was. Noel was there and if Bad Ju-Ju, say, blew up the whole building then he could destroy both the pest-like magazine and Noel, at the same time.
*
Bad Ju-Ju pushed open the door to NME headquarters. Yes, Noel had been here, the air seemed to reek with his presence like bad perfume.
The dull receptionist looked up at him and instantly slapped her hand to her mouth, as if she'd seen a ghost.
"You're... you're..." she stuttered.
"Yeah, yeah," Bad Ju-Ju said dismissively with a wave of his hand, "Let me in?"
"Of course," she answered, "You're here for the interview? The others have gone up."
"No," Bad Ju-Ju said and stopped, "Up?"
"Yes, Noel Fielding and a group of people passed through here about forty-five minutes ago, for an interview. You might catch the end of it."
Bad Ju-Ju had been right: Noel was here, having managed to lie his way in rather elegantly, looked like.
"I'm sure I'll catch them," Bad Ju-Ju answered and left the reception behind him, heading for the lifts. He pressed the button and waited, scanning the room. What a frightfully dull place. Stylishly minimalist, apparently. There was nothing here other than doors, a plaque on the wall telling him where to find things and some plants in the corner.
Bad Ju-Ju turned to the plants again. Had they moved?
He looked closer. There certainly seemed to be a dark shadow behind them.
He went closer, softly, creeping along like a wolf stalking a deer. Yes, there was something behind those wide leaves. Bad Ju-Ju tip-toed up close and pulled the leaves to one side in one swift movement.
Chris Corner.
They stared at each other a moment, Chris with his phone half-way up to his ear, mouth open as if caught doing something dirty.
"Logical place to make a phone call from," Bad Ju-Ju said, scrutinising Chris's face for a reaction.
"As good as any," Chris answered calmly, lowering his arm slowly.
"Phoning Noel?"
"Might be."
"So he's here?"
"Might be."
"Do you ever not speak in riddles, Corner?"
"Only when all other possibilities have been exhausted."
"Why else would you be hiding behind some plants at NME, if Noel's not here? Or are you that desperate to be recognised that you hide at NME waiting to be discovered? Smuggling in reviews of your own albums, perhaps?"
Chris said nothing. He looked almost bored, as if he wasn't really listening. He always did this, disappearing into himself whenever something was said that might be the slightest criticism, as if he was above it all, too important to have to listen.
Well, not this time. There'd be no more haughty looks from Chris when Bad Ju-Ju was finished with him!
*
Noel looked up. What was that sound? There were all kinds of distant sounds around them, everything from the gurgling in the pipes above them to distant voices further up in the building. But this sound was much closer. Just around the corner, if he wasn't too mistaken. Had the receptionist phoned upstairs anyway and now someone was looking for them, ready to throw them out and report them to the police?
A long shadow grew on the corridor floor. The others had noticed it too and were getting to their feet, drawing closer together in a huddle.
Then, there stood Julian in the doorway, a bag on his shoulder and a terrifyingly sinister narrow smile on his face.
It was like being blinded by the sun, looking at Julian. Everything else melted away around him, leaving him standing in a bright, painful glow.
"Hello," he said simply, his calm voice a stark contrast to the halo of madness surrounding him.
"Why didn't Chris phone?" Noel heard Dee whisper tensely behind him.
"Chris, you say, Dee-Dee?" Julian asked. When did his hearing grow this acute? Usually he couldn't even hear what Noel was saying if they were in the same room, and now he could hear Dee whispering at such a distance?
"No," Dee squeaked, her hand grabbing hold of Noel's suit as if afraid of being blown over.
"Oh, I thought you I heard you say his name," Julian said, taking a couple of slow steps closer, "No need to worry about him: I beat him up before he could phone you. No problems. He's such a tiny thing, don't you think?"
Noel froze. Julian had beaten up Chris? How could he?! This wasn't his Julian standing in front of him: this was a monster. A monster that needed to be destroyed.
"You hateful creature!" Sue spat and bounded forward. But Dee grabbed her around the waist and only just held her back, digging her heels into the ground like a fierce little pony.
But Julian couldn't be speaking the truth completely, could he? Because Noel noticed that he had deep, recent scratches on his face and hands and that his shirt had been ripped. Chris had put up a good fight, looked like.
And Chris's struggle should not have to have been in vain; Noel would stop Julian if it was the last thing he did! This nonsense couldn't go on any longer.
He clenched his fists and took a step forward obstinately. He wasn't afraid anymore, just angry.
"You want me?" he shouted at Julian, "Come and get me."
"I will," Julian answered, "But first I want to show you something."
He unzipped his bag and dug his hand into it. He rummaged about a little, shaking the bag and with a flourish, pulled out something that looked like a brown ball with hair.
Noel stared at it a moment, trying to figure out what it was. Then suddenly he saw, as if an illusionist had snapped his fingers to end a magic trick. It was Russell Brand's head, covered in blood.
Icy shivers shot up Noel's back as he stood staring into Russell's empty, glassy eyes. Such a horrendous sight, it made his stomach turn and his limbs weaken as if his bones were turning to jelly. Julian had truly lost his mind.
"Yeah? So?" James asked, "You think we care?"
"Yeah," Dee joined in, mockingly, "That could be anyone's head. Are you trying to scare us? Pathetic, Barratt."
"You're all talk and no action," Sue threw in, "You've probably not killed anyone. That's just a mannequin's head."
"Useless," Dee added with a haughty laugh.
"Oh, don't be so certain," Julian answered, untouchable, "This'll be you when I'm finished, Dee-Dee."
"Then what are you waiting for?" she asked, stepping up next to Noel, "You aren't scared, are you, Barratt?"
"No," he answered, "Are you?"
"I'm never scared," she answered, "I'm Dee fucking Plume." And before anyone could stop her, she had flung herself forward, running at Julian with all her might. This was not according to plan! The plan had been to keep things as calm as possible and to avoid getting to close to evil-Julian. Noel lunged after her, not knowing what he was doing, breath catching in his throat. Fuck the plan: all he could think of was keep Dee safe!
She charged at Julian like a rugby player, arms around his waist and driving her shoulder into his abdomen. Julian took a step back to keep from falling, but kept his balance surprisingly well. Dee was pounding, kicking and biting anything and everything she could get at as Noel caught up with her. But before he could do anything, Dee pulled away with a screech, tumbling backwards in confusion.
Julian was chuckling quietly to himself and Noel couldn't understand what was going on. Dee was clutching her head, trying to find her balance, swearing loudly.
A bitter, eye-watering, chocking smell hit him and Noel realised what had happened: Julian had set Dee's hair on fire. And it burnt quickly with all that hairspray.
But before Noel knew what to do, Julia was at Dee's side, throwing James's scarf over her head, quenching the flames.
In the confusion, Sue at least was following the plan and had managed to sneak out without Julian noticing, Dee's CD still in her hand. Hopefully she would remember what she had to do instead of being distracted by Chris, whatever condition he might be in.
But something wrapped around Noel's neck and pulled him backwards, pressing hard against his throat. He screamed like a girl, flashbacks from this morning rushing through his mind. He had refused himself to think about it all day, but now the images seemed even more intense than back then. He clawed desperately at whatever it was at his throat, feeling his heart beating violently inside his skull.
It was Julian's arm at his neck, holding Noel in front of him like a human shield.
"Let go of him, Barratt!" came Dee's shrill voice, ready to charge at Julian again. Except that she didn't. She couldn't. She was leaning heavily on Julia, holding one of her feet off the ground. She'd been hurt.
Noel pulled harder, trying anything to get loose: biting, kicking, whatever.
Something cold caressed his cheek and he froze. What was it, a knife? He tried to pull away slightly, scrunching up his face to see what it was. Julian's chest was hot against his back, pressing hard against him, holding him firmly in place. It was a razor, a razor edged with dried blood.
"I don't think so," Julian answered, "But you can go if you like, Dee-Dee, I've got what I want now."
"I most certainly won't!" Dee spat back, swaying slightly against Julia, trying to stand on her foot but flinching and pulling it up again, clearly in a lot of pain.
Julian's arm pulled Noel's head back roughly, exposing his throat. Noel felt the cold blade against his skin, tickling as it brushed over his Adam's apple. Was this what had happened to Russell Brand? And to The Horrors? And to Chris, for that matter? Was this the end, having his throat cut open in the basement of NME headquarters by his best friend-gone-mad?
No! Obstinacy hotter than anything flared up inside him. He wouldn't have this!
He pulled away, strength he didn't know he had springing to life inside him, and the razor slipped from his throat and he felt it moving down his chest, skidding off his suit like it was armour.
Something warm and heavy hit him across the stomach and he was thrown backwards, Julian's arm still around him, keeping them both only just on their feet. Noel turned to see and saw James pulling away, having charged at Julian the same way Dee had just minutes earlier.
And stuck in James's wild white-man's afro, was Julian's razor.
Noel felt Julian's grip around his throat falter a second in the confusion and Noel grabbed at the chance and pulled free completely, digging his fingers into Julian's arm and bending it up Julian's back. James had been thinking the same thing, looked like, because they met behind Julian, both holding onto an arm each.
Julian struggled violently, kicking out, hitting Noel in the shin and making him almost lose his grip on him. But Noel held on like a wildcat biting into an eagle, determined not to let go.
Julia joined them, leaving Dee wobbling on one foot, and began tying Julian's hands together.
"Oi, that's my scarf," James said crestfallen, "It's already broken, isn't it?"
"Sorry," Julia said, "It's rather singed, yeah."
"Oh well," James said and sighed, "I suppose it's just a scarf. But I loved it so."
Julia knotted the ends together uncertainly.
"I don't think it'll keep long," she whispered.
"I'll stay here," James said, holding onto Julian's arms, sidestepping Julian's kicks like some sort of badly choreographed Riverdance.
Noel and Julia left him there and Noel hurried over to Dee, wrapping his arms around her, ready never to let go again.
"Oh, Delia, are you okay?"
"Don't worry about me, silly boy," she snapped, but leant heavily on him anyway, "Look."
She pointed over to Julian where Julia had her hands on his cheeks and was leaning in to kiss him. Noel couldn't help smiling, they truly were gorgeously sweet together.
Julian was fighting against his bonds and James's grip, wriggling in Julia's arms like a poisonous snake. She kissed him again but he kept up the struggle, growling menacingly at her as she pulled away.
She turned to Noel and Dee, scared.
"It's not working."
"It has to," Dee hissed back, "Try again."
Julia turned back to Julian and Noel noticed movement behind them.
Chris!
Chris was hobbling into view, a black eye dark against his pale skin and half-dried blood on his chin from a cut lip. He looked completely exhausted. Noel picked Dee's arms off himself and rushed to him, catching him as he fell, light as a feather.
"You have to kiss him," Chris said, voice rough like sandpaper.
"Me?"
"Yes. You started it: you have to end it. Julia's just his partner, you're his lover. It's the only way to set things right."
Noel stared at Chris.
"How do you know that?"
"Doesn't matter!" Chris snapped back, "Just kiss him."
"But... I... What?!"
"Just do it!" Chris said, "Why do you think people have affairs? Because they're more passionate. That's what Julian needs now; something extreme to snap him back into himself. He's on one end of the scale: complete evil, and yours and his relationship is on the other end: complete love."
"But Dee... Julia...?"
"I don't know, do I?" Chris snapped and froze, his face softening, "Actually, I do. Dee's got a torch in her magic handbag. I'll shine it on your suit and everyone'll be blinded and won't see a thing. Happy now, Fielding?"
Noel nodded, letting go of Chris as he hurried over to Dee's handbag by the wall, frowning at himself and at Chris. Chris's theory made sense and yet he was so reluctant to follow. He didn't want everyone to know about him and Julian. He enjoyed the secret, having something that was just his, something that he didn't need to share with the world. And how did Chris know about it anyway? Granted, Chris knew everything, but still.
Noel dug through Dee's handbag, finding lipstick, CDs, tissues, pens, hairpins, keys, rubber bands, a cap and a small glass ashtray before finally pulling out the tiny silver torch. He went back to Chris and gave it to him.
"It's not working," Julia said again, pulling away completely this time, hands over her mouth and tears in her eyes. Julian was struggling like a wild horse against James, almost shaking him off.
"Ready?" Chris asked, arching an eyebrow at Noel and turning the torch on. Noel nodded once and walked up to Julian, determined. This was the last alternative; if this didn't work then there was nothing else that could be done and he'd be dead by tomorrow, possibly sooner.
Chris pointed the torch at Noel's suit and millions of tiny stars began dancing on the walls and ceiling and floor all around them, as if they were surrounded by fairies. He heard Dee gasp behind him and he saw James blinking madly over Julian's shoulder.
Julian, however, didn't seem to notice. He was glaring at Noel, as if daring him to come closer.
And Noel did. If this worked then everything would be set right. If it didn't then at least he'd die knowing that he had tried.
Noel stopped right in front of Julian, their chests almost touching, the heat radiating off Julian, suffocating. Noel slipped his hands to Julian's cheeks, so unfamiliarly sleek, like egg yolk.
He met Julian's eyes a final time, searching for the something that made this person standing in front of him his Julian, that certain spark he'd never seen in anybody else's eyes, that spark that made his heart jump every time it glittered down at him.
But nothing. Julian's eyes were cold and dull, as if half-dead. Noel shivered under his gaze and had to force himself to look away.
Julian wrenched again, almost pulling free from Noel's hands and Noel knew he couldn't dally any longer.
Carefully, as if it was the first time, he leant up and touched Julian's lips with his own.
Julian's lips were cold and drawn tight, tense against Noel's. So this was what all of today would culminate into, a dismissive kiss? Noel had to save him, to pull him out of this evil mindframe. To thaw him.
Noel kissed him again and Julian's lips quivered ever so slightly, like a blade of grass in a summer breeze. Tentatively, Noel touched Julian's lower lip with his tongue and he heard Julian inhale sharply, the muscles in his cheeks under Noel's fingertips relaxing.
And Noel felt safe, as if nothing could harm him now. He leant closer, resting his chest against Julian's, ready to melt into him. Why should he want to leave? This was where he belonged, with Julian.
Familiar music drifted into the room as Noel kissed Julian again and again softly, childishly almost.
The sun stretched out and sang golden to him.
His eyes became leaden-lidded.
Noel smiled and closed his eyes, shutting out the rest of the world. It didn't matter any more, all that mattered was Julian. And Julian's lips were softening against his like flower petals.
It crossed his mind never to move,
So delicious was this place and feeling.
He didn't know how long they had stood here now, as if time itself has ceased existing. But he knew that he could stay here twice as long, one hand in Julian's hair and the other on his cheek, music in his ears and Julian so close.
And then, almost unnoticeable, like dawn growing into day, Julian was kissing him back. Noel's whole body quivered as kiss after kiss was answered, shyly and apologetically. He stroked Julian's cheek, more patient than he had ever been with anyone. He couldn't rush this; Julian had to come back to him in his own time.
He was off like a dream,
Dizzy from the heat, but O! so content.
Noel pushed a little further, overwhelmed by the sheer simplicity of it all. There were no demands from either, it was just a kiss. And because it was nothing more, it couldn't be anything less either, just pure, undiluted love.
Julian sighed deeply and was suddenly much heavier against Noel's chest. And before Noel really knew what was happening, he had sunk to his knees on the ground, Julian's unconscious body next to him, head resting on his lap.
The glittering lights disappeared and a sudden commotion erupted around them. But Noel refused to notice, focus only on Julian, stroking his pale, stubbly cheek and watching him breathe as if asleep.
"Are you alright?"
"What happened?"
"Is Julian alright?"
"Is he dead?"
"No, he's breathing, he's fainted."
"Is he alright?"
"Noel? Noel, are you there?"
"Shh, let them be," Chris said faintly, his hand on Noel's shoulder heavy and reassuring, "They'll be fine."
Noel sat watching Julian's limp body and peaceful face until his legs fell asleep and his knees smarted. But he didn't move, waiting for Julian to wake up.
And then, a movement in Julian's face, a tiny flex in a muscle under his eye.
Noel bent closer.
"Julian?"
Deep lines appeared on Julian's forehead as he frowned, struggling to open his eyes. Finally, those dark brown eyes met Noel's. Relief like an icy breeze blew through Noel and he couldn't help giggling, so unbelievably happy to see his Julian again.
"I thought that song was about me the first time I heard it," Julian whispered so softly, "Junior Band, Julian Barratt."
"Maybe it is," Noel answered, not knowing whether he was laughing or crying any more, just so unearthly happy that his Julian was back.
"I'm sorry," Julian said, touching Noel's leg, "I'm so sorry, Noel."
"Oh, shut up," Noel exclaimed, cradling Julian's head in his lap, never wanting to let go ever again.
But Julian pulled away, sitting up and glancing around at the others hesitantly.
He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could form words, Dee had launched herself at him as if she wasn't hurt at all, almost knocking him backwards.
"I hate you so much, Barratt," she said, hugging him tightly, "Don't you ever go and do that ever again!"
She pulled away and patted his head affectionately. He smiled quickly up at her, still uncertain.
Julia touched his cheek and rearranged his hair like a mother fussing over an unruly child.
"I'm so sorry," Julian whispered, leaning in to her touch.
"I know," she answered softly and wrapped her arms around him, "I know." Julian met Noel's eyes a second before burying his face in Julia's shoulder. And Noel knew he couldn't be angry with him. He looked so scared and so sorry and Noel forgave everything instantly.
"We should leave," he said, getting to his feet slowly, his muscles dead from sitting like this so long.
Chris smiled at him and nodded, as if to tell him that he had done the right thing and that he was proud of him.
Noel helped Dee up and suddenly there was Julian, sweeping her off her feet like a princess. She screamed and wriggled against him but he held her tight.
"I'm going to hurt you so bad," she said, settling back in his arms and planting a kiss on his cheek, "I still hate you."
They made their way back along the corridors and to the lifts, Noel with his arm around Chris and his other hand holding onto Julia's, closely followed by Julian carrying Dee and James bringing up the rear, his singed scarf in one hand and Dee's magic handbag in the other.
In the foyer they met Sue who instantly hugged everyone and began fussing over Chris and Dee's injuries.
They left through the glass gate, the receptionist still there, staring at them.
"Bye!" Dee called to her, waving from her seat in Julian's arms.
"Bye..." the receptionist answered, "I hope the interview went well..."
"It was... interesting," Noel said, "I don't think you'll see it in print."
"Oh," she answered, "I'm sorry. Well, good bye, then."
"Yeah, bye!" Noel chirped and they were back outside in the chilly London air.
*
The plane to Berlin took off, leaving London to sort itself out far behind. (They had forgotten Russell Brand's head down in the basement of NME HQ but no-one wanted to mention it. Also, the razor in James's hair had had to be cut out, despite James's violent protests. Chris had given him a new haircut but James was still very tetchy.)
Dee sat with her foot on Noel's lap, leaning against James. (Her ankle had been sprained when Julian had stomped on it and it was bandaged tightly now.) In front of them sat Julian and Julia and across the aisle Sue and Chris. Chris was wearing large sunglasses to hide his black eye even though Dee had told him that it made him look very dashing and mysterious.
"I want a party," Dee said, "Because mine and Noel's going-away dinner for Sue and Chris didn't happen. Julian, you pay."
"Of course," Julian answered. He was still feeling very guilty about everything and Dee knew to take advantage of it.
"There must be beer and vodka. And sausages and fresh bread..."
"Anything you want, Dee-Dee," Julian said, "You all need fattening up anyway, you're all too thin."
Dee snapped something back and their mock-fighting started again, like siblings that just can't let each other be.
Sue was already asleep on Chris's shoulder and Noel leant over to him. He had meant to ask so many times but he'd never got around to it.
"How did you know about me and Julian?"
"I've always known," Chris answered, "Everyone does."
"Everyone? What do you mean 'everyone'?"
"All of us," Chris answered matter-of-factly, "We've always known."
"What, even Dee?"
"Yes."
"And Julia?"
"Yes."
"But why don't I know that you know?"
"Don't know," Chris shrugged.
"Does Julian know that you know?"
"No."
"Shouldn't he?"
"Do you think that's a good idea?" Chris asked, his face blank.
Noel glanced at Julian who was leaning on the back of his seat, bantering with Dee. The only reason he could be so open with her was because he thought she had no idea. He thought that the secret was safe and that was why he dared be so friendly with her.
"No," Noel said, smiling as Dee ruffled Julian's hair, "Best not to tell him."
"I think you did a good job," Chris said, "Saving the world. I'll fix your ringtone if you like."
"Aww, thanks, Chris!" Noel chirped and gave him his phone, not knowing that Chris would change it to a high-pitched rendition of Towers of London's song 'I'm a Rat'. (Nor did he know that this would infuriate Dee so much it would culminate in her chasing him and Chris around a Berlin park and almost pushing them into a pond.)
There's Some Bad Ju-Ju Going Down Here.
Part 2.
He couldn't find that calm he was looking for. That calm as if nothing would ever go wrong again. He had had it, those few seconds his hands were around Noel's throat, those seconds he was holding Noel's life in his hands.
Everything was a mess now, he couldn't concentrate. He could hardly walk straight, he must look a complete fool. His head buzzed with all the sounds of London and his eyes hurt being out in the bright light. It needed to stop, make it all stop!
He turned a corner, moving more on instinct than logic. He just knew that he needed to go this way.
He had to get to Television Centre as quickly as possible, he couldn't live like this. His whole body was shaking and icy beads of sweat were forming along his spine. He knew that he was standing up straight but he might as well be lying on the ground, slowly spinning round and round.
A cab. He needed a cab.
He hobbled out into the street, clenching his teeth to keep his balance, and waved at the passing cars.
"Julian!"
You would think you could get lost in a big city like London, but no, there was always someone there to bump into.
Bad Ju-Ju refused to look up, concentrating on the cars rushing by.
"How are you?" came that same voice again, closer this time, and Bad Ju-Ju found himself being drawn into a hug.
Sue, of course. She was everywhere, wasn't she? Just like Dee. Oh, and there was Chris too, nodding at him. Chris and Sue might as well go and get surgically attached at the hip; it wouldn't make much of a difference.
Bad Ju-Ju grunted something non-committal and turned back to the cars.
"You'll be at Noel and Dee's later today, yeah?" Sue asked, unable, it seemed, to take a hint, "Dinner? You and Julia?"
He turned to her and gave her his most brutal glare.
"Piss off."
She stared at him a moment in disbelief and her lower lip began trembled. But then her whole face broke into a wide grin and she laughed.
"Oh, Julian, you almost had me a second there."
He had heard so many stories about Sue's temper but he'd never, ever seen it, like some sort of mythical beast that only other people saw. She was always happy when he met her, sickeningly so. Too much sticky-sweet soppiness always made him wrench and her smile infuriated him now.
And Chris, the nobody everyone adores. He never seemed to belong to this world and yet everything always revolved around him.
He might as well kill them too, it could help set the world right. Or at least make his shivering stop. It was as if his bones were trying to escape from his body, pinching at every muscle.
"So," Sue asked, one hand on narrow hip, "Are you coming to Noel and Dee's tonight?"
He took a small step closer, ready to snap her neck in one swift blow. She just stood there, as if she had never seen an evil thing in her life, her face so open and so vulnerable. So trusting. How could he even dream of hurting her? She reminded him of Julia, the only person he loved as much as he loved Noel. If he hurt Sue it'd be like hurting Julia and he'd never do that.
"I've killed The Horrors," he heard himself say, as if confessing to a priest, "I'm off to kill Russell Brand now. I'll probably come back and kill Noel later today."
Sue glanced ever so quickly at Chris and then back at Bad Ju-Ju.
"Whatever you say, Barratt. So we'll see you tonight, then?" She wanted to think that he was joking, but Bad Ju-Ju had seen the tiny flicker of uncertainty she sent Chris. He wasn't joking.
"I think you should go home," Chris said, "You don't look well, maybe you're ill."
"I'm fine," Bad Ju-Ju snapped, anger suddenly rising inside him. How dared Chris of all people suggest that he was ill? Hadn't Chris seen himself in a mirror? If anyone was ill, it was him, all pale and sickly-thin.
But he couldn't hurt Chris either; that would be like hurting Sue.
"You're a twat, Corner," he hissed, the sharp pain in his chest stabbing him again, almost knocking him backwards, "Fuck off, you make me sick, you and your alternative lifestyle. You're not alternative, all you care about is making money."
"Julian, what are you on about?" Sue asked, taking a step closer, hand on his arm, "Are you sure you're okay?"
But Bad Ju-Ju only half heard her, batting her hand away fiercely. He was only interested in watching Chris. Because Chris never let his emotions show other than in the tiniest movements of the muscles round his mouth or an almost invisible flash in his eyes.
"Who releases the same album twice, just two years apart? You money-hungry, thieving little bastard. You've completely sold out, Corner. You say you don't care about the money but you do, so much. You make me sick."
But Chris didn't react. What was he made of, stone and ice? He really didn't live in this world, did he? What was the point anyway, why did Bad Ju-Ju even try talking to him?
He turned unsteadily and waved at a passing cab and it stopped. Bad Ju-Ju opened the door, digging his hand into the door handle, forcing himself to stay upright, his body threatening to collapse any second. He managed to crawl in and as he told the cabdriver where he wanted to go, he saw Sue and Chris standing flabbergasted on the pavement still, staring after him as if they'd just seen a phoenix go up in flames before their eyes.
*
Either they were very lucky or they had caught a magic cab. All in all it was very Boosh-like and they reached the HMV where Mike worked a lot faster than normal.
Noel climbed out of the cab, his stomach lurching with nervous anticipation, and they went inside.
The shop was its usual busy self except for the DVD-section, where only minutes earlier the Boosh DVDs had been lined up tidily on their shelf. The floor was now strewn with paper, plastic and broken discs like some sort of futuristic roadkill. Noel recognised his own face looking up at him, head ripped from body, and his heart sank, ready to give up the whole mission. Was this what Julian had done to The Horrors? And was it what he was planning on doing to Noel?
It was hopeless.
"They're just things," Julia whispered, coming up to him and slipping her hand into his, "No-one was killed this time."
And Noel understood why Julian loved her: just with these simple, softly-delivered words she warmed his heart and he knew that everything would be fine, because they were all here together.
"I know," he said, trying to smile but failing, the muscles in his face still frozen, "I know."
"We should move," James said, "There's no point in following him: we need to get ahead of him and stop him."
"Come on," Julia said, squeezing Noel's hand, "Let's go."
"Yeah," Noel said, managing finally to pull his eyes away from the massacre on the floor, "We're sticking to our plan."
He left the shop, James and Julia following him. It was as if he was a little closer to evil-Julian now, as if he had been given a tiny glimpse into his mind. And Julian wasn't evil; he was frustrated. Frustrated at the world and at himself, but mostly at Noel.
Noel bit his lip as he waited impatiently for Dee to finish telling Mike everything that had happened. Had he really been that blind? Had he really managed to go all these years without seeing that Julian wasn't happy?
Why hadn't Julian told him? Noel frowned, suddenly angry. They shared everything, why hadn't Julian said anything? Noel told him everything always. That's what being human is: sharing.
But then he remembered something Julian had said many years ago, a couple of months after they'd started performing Boosh. Something Julian had said when he was very drunk and more asleep than awake: "I just want you to be happy, Noel". Was this Julian's way of making sure that Noel was happy: not telling him that he himself wasn't, so that Noel wouldn't worry?
"Okay, let's go!" Dee chirped, joining them, "Mike told me to tell you you're mad, Noel. He would've told you himself but he's got customers."
*
"Is that Sue and Chris?" James asked, pointing at a couple some hundred yards in front of them.
"Dunno," Noel answered, "Looks like it."
"It is," Dee answered, "Honestly, how long have you known them? Don't you even recognise them? Come on."
They hurried after Sue and Chris and caught up with them, Dee flinging her arms around Sue's waist and almost tackling her to the ground. Sue screamed, making passers-by turn, and Dee giggled, giving Sue a huge bear-hug.
"I thought you were a mugger, Dee-Dee," Sue said, recovering herself, hand on her chest, "God."
"Yeah, that's right: I'm God," Dee answered. But Sue was no longer listening; she'd noticed Noel and was giggling her blonde little head off.
"Hallo, spaceboy," she managed between giggles and held up her hand like a Vulcan, "Live long and prosper."
"That's what I said," Dee said, "Well, the 'spaceboy' thing. Same brain, you and me, Bowie."
"Why are you in your mirrorball suit?" Chris asked and turned to Julia and James, "Oh, hello!"
James nodded at him and Julia smiled.
"We're hunting for Julian," Noel said.
"Oh!" Sue interrupted, "We just met him, didn't we, Chris? He didn't look too well."
"You met him?" Noel said, the words tumbling from his mouth like plastic beads, "He didn't hurt you, did he? Where's he going?"
"Hurt us? No," Sue said, "He said he was going to kill Russell Brand. He really didn't look well, he was pale and sweating."
"Like a fever," Chris added, "He said he'd killed something horrible?"
"The Horrors," Noel said, his stomach lurching as he remembered that phonecall from Faris, "They're a... they were a band. Until Julian... y'know."
"Are you saying Julian's murdered someone?" Sue asked in disbelief, placing her hand on her hip like a mother about to tell her kid off.
Noel nodded slowly, wishing so badly he didn't have to.
"He said he was going to kill you later today," Chris said.
"Oh, he is," Dee said matter-of-factly, "He's already tried once."
"I thought Julian was ill," Sue said, "Looks like I was wrong: you're all ill."
" 'Fraid you're wrong, doll," Dee answered, "We're fine. Julian's gone mad because Noel shaved his moustache off."
Sue stared at Dee a second, trying hard not to giggle again.
"Dee. Sweetheart. Do you have ears? Can you hear what you're saying?"
"That makes sense," Chris said slowly, biting his lip in thought, "No moustache: his inner evil's released out into his conscious mind. Like a ripped condom."
"I prefer the image of a dam bursting, but whatever you say, mon petit," Dee answered.
"You actually believe this nonsense?" Sue asked, turning to Chris.
"Yes," Chris answered, "It's like a Boosh adventure. And now Noel has to stop him. Do you want help, Noel?" He turned his deep, dark eyes to Noel, boring into him as if reading his mind.
"The more the merrier," Dee answered before Noel could open his mouth, "We're going to NME headquarters."
"Russell Brand doesn't work at NME, he works for the BBC or something, doesn't he?" Sue said, still not convinced.
"Julian'll be going to NME afterwards," Noel answered.
"How do you know?"
"I just do. Is Vince ever wrong?"
"I suppose not," Sue said, rolling her eyes, "Not when it comes to Howard, at least."
"As if they're lovers," Chris added, mostly to himself.
"So? Coming?" Dee asked.
"Yeah, alright," Sue sighed, "We haven't got much on anyway, might as well waste our last day in London chasing after a madman at NME headquarters."
*
Bad Ju-Ju could hardly stand up as he got out of the cab at Television Centre. He had no balance, this was worse than being blind drunk. His whole body hurt, as if every bone was on fire. He screwed up his face and made his way to the entrance, pulling his feet with him as if wading through sticky weeds.
Sheer willpower and the overwhelming, all-consuming hunger for murder were the only things that kept him on his feet as he wandered corridor after corridor, searching for Russell Brand. He would have dropped down just here and slept till the end of all time if he could. But he couldn't. He needed to find Russell Brand, needed to kill him so that he would have enough energy inside him to kill Noel later.
He found himself in a corridor he remembered vaguely, like from a dream he'd rather forget. He'd been here before. And it had not been a good experience. It had been one of the worst interviews he'd ever done, so awkward and embarrassing. The only thing that had kept him together was Noel there next to him. Noel was a natural at interviews, he could just chat and people would listen and laugh. That idiot Julian Barratt always seemed like a joke sitting next to him, as if he was Noel's sidekick or boring uncle. And being interviewed by Jonathan Ross of all people didn't exactly make things better.
Bad Ju-Ju's hand was on a door handle and he went in, not truly knowing what he was doing.
Behind the door he found Jonathan Ross sitting alone reading a newspaper and looking very peaceful and calm. If Bad Ju-Ju could have that calm back! Oh, to be let out of the hell that was this pain driving him desperate.
Jonathan Ross looked up at Bad Ju-Ju and smiled his slightly loop-sided smile.
"Julian? Fancy seeing you here. How are you? You don't look very well, I must say."
Bad Ju-Ju tried to answer but his throat was dry like dust and refused to work. He went over to Jonathan Ross, trying to keep from swaying too much.
"Did you want anything?" Jonathan Ross asked, looking questioningly up at Bad Ju-Ju advancing on him.
"Yes," Bad Ju-Ju managed to croak and lunged forward and wrapped his hands around Jonathan Ross's throat, "Life."
Jonathan Ross gasped and tried to pull away but Bad Ju-Ju was stronger, holding on with every last fibre in his body. Jonathan Ross's fingers clawed at Bad Ju-Ju's hands and his mouth worked ferociously, but to no avail.
The harder Bad Ju-Ju squeezed, the stronger he seemed to grow, as if Jonathan Ross's ebbing life was seeping into his hands and spreading throughout his body. He drew a deep breath, the pain in his chest residing, and his head cleared as if the mist in front of his eyes had been blown away. He was alive again!
Jonathan Ross was growing limp now, his face blue-tinged. He was so heavy, slipping out of his chair, and yet Bad Ju-Ju didn't notice, his own body so much stronger than it had ever been before.
He gave Jonathan Ross's neck a final squeeze and let the body slip to the floor where it landed haphazardly like a bag half-filled with sand.
Bad Ju-Ju stretched his arms above his head and his chest seemed to expand, as if to give room to this new life soaring through his body.
He grinned. He had never been happier. He could do anything now, there was nothing in the world that could stop him.
*
"But why NME? They're not even that good."
"Because Noel likes them and they like Noel."
"Noel's Musical Express."
"Noel's Minging Entourage, more like."
"Not Mightily Exciting."
"Not Mightily Experienced."
"You sound like one of those idiots on 'Nathan Barley'."
"Nathan: More Experienced than Noel."
"Nice, Mighty, Excellent. No More Exaggerations, please!"
"Not Musically Exciting."
"No Musical Energy."
"Naughty Mice Explode?"
"Shut up, Noel. You and your stupid 'comedy'."
"Noel Must be Excommunicated."
"No Music Excels."
"Except IAMX."
"Se taire, Dee-Dee."
"No-one Must Expect anything."
"And Nemo."
"Shut up, James."
Noel sat back in the cab taking them to NME and turned to look out of the window. Why should he try to be a part of their conversation if they were just going to make fun of him? So what if they didn't laugh, he didn't make jokes for them. He made jokes for one person and one person only: Julian.
It had been fun doing stand-up all those years ago on his own, but it had never been more than a passing thing then, something he did when he had a bit of spare time on his hands. There was nothing driving him then, as if he was slowly sinking into mud without realising. Only after he'd met Julian had he found his goal: to make Julian laugh.
It was the best thing ever, seeing Julian laugh. His whole face glowed with life and those short, sweet seconds he seemed completely carefree. It wasn't easy getting close to Julian, as if he lived in his own fortress. But when he laughed he let down the barriers around himself and let Noel have a glimpse of his inner life, if only for a tiny, tiny moment. And so Noel did anything to make Julian laugh.
And now Noel had to rescue him. Rescue him from himself, from his own evil thoughts.
It had been good meeting Chris, as if Chris knew what Noel was going through. Chris always seemed to understand everything, like he knew every secret to the world, to the universe and to life itself. Noel felt safe with Chris here, hip to hip as the cab hurried them through London.
Only now, when he was sitting down, did he realise how completely exhausted he was. All day had been one big worry, first almost being killed and then hearing The Horrors dying and then the smash-up at HMV. And on top of that there was James's moody self to avoid. And Dee. And now Sue too. At least Dee and James knew what Julian was capable of. Sue still didn't believe it. Would she make things difficult for him? It was hard enough keeping track of everyone and making sure that they were safe. And now her, stirring up doubt.
He really didn't need this. Why, oh why had he gone and shaved Julian's moustache off? He was such a cunt sometimes! He could kick himself so violently. All he ever did was think of himself. Could anyone be more selfish?
At least he was being punished for it now, having to run all round London trying to catch Julian before he committed more murders. And at the same time trying to avoid being killed himself.
It was the stupidest thing, bringing all the others with him. They weren't safe here. Julian wanted him and he'd do anything to get at him. He'd already killed five, how many more could he get through? Noel didn't know how mad Julian had grown now. Would he kill the others to get at him?
And even if they managed to stay alive, how would they stop Julian? Noel had no idea. How does one stop a moustache-less madman? They needed his moustache to grow back, but how long would that take? And how would they keep Julian from killing them while they waited? And stop him from shaving, too?
Oh, Noel hated this! The others were expecting him to know the answers to these questions. He was in charge now. It was all well and good comparing it to a Boosh adventure, but Vince was a natural leader. Noel wasn't. People were instantly attracted to Vince and willing to follow him. People always questioned Noel, never truly trusting him even if he was right.
He rubbed at his forehead, willing it all to be over. Maybe the cab would get involved in a car crash and they'd no longer need to worry about Julian?
He must have sighed or something because Chris put his hand on top of Noel's and squeezed gently. It was such a simple gesture and yet so reassuring. Noel wanted to let Chris know how much he appreciated it, but he couldn't move, as if he'd been frozen to the spot, paralysed both by the trust everyone placed in him and by the fear of failure. But Chris understood. Chris always understands.
*
Like glitter in his bloodstream. Like walking on sunshine, like music in his ears. Exhilarating sensations roaring through him with every breath he took.
He strode along a corridor untouchable as if he owned the place. His body seemed to overflow with energy. There was just too much of it, bubbling through him, almost chocking him with the joy of being alive.
The world seemed so much brighter than it had ever been before, every colour more vibrant, every sound more intense, everything just more beautiful. How had he not noticed before? And to think, once Noel was dead he'd live in this über-world forever.
Ah, Noel. Little flower still blooming. Winter will come soon now, just you wait and see. There'll be nothing left but dust and happiness once you're gone.
His whole body tingled with anticipation as he thought of wrapping his hands around Noel's neck again, feeling his pulse quicken and then slow and finally stop altogether against his palm.
*
They pushed open the door to NME headquarters and were met by a closed glass gate and a reception. The only way to get in was to be let in by the receptionist, a bored-looking girl in her mid-twenties.
Dee approached her fearlessly and leant on the counter.
"Hi, we're here for the interview."
"What interview?" the receptionist asked, "No-one conducts interviews here; the journalists go to the bands, not the other way round."
"No, this is a very special interview," Dee insisted, "Tim Jonez called us and asked us to come here specially."
"Must have been a crank call," the receptionist answered, "I'll phone him and ask."
"No need," James said, stepping forward, pulling Noel with him, "We'll just wait for him here."
"It's no trouble," the receptionist said, turning to James. She noticed Noel and froze, as if blinded by awe.
"Flirt with her," James whispered to Noel, giving him a little push.
"I can't do that," Noel whispered back, taken aback by such a suggestion. He could chat to random girls he met at clubs and gigs if they were a bit tipsy, but not randomly flirt outright with a girl in broad daylight. And right in front of Dee, too.
"Just do it, she might let us in," James hissed, giving Noel another push so that Noel almost fell against the counter.
"Hi," he said to the receptionist, trying to smile bravely, "Alright?"
"Hi," she answered breathlessly, eyes shining, "You're Noel Fielding."
"I am," Noel answered and held out his hand, "Nice to meet you, er...?"
"Mary," the receptionist answered in a rush and took his hand shyly, "I saw your live show five times. It was brilliant."
"Aww, thanks," Noel answered, "I'm glad you liked it." It always made him happy meeting people who liked what he was doing.
"Oh, I did, so much," she answered, "I've never laughed harder."
"Make her let us in," James whispered tensely in Noel's ear.
"You know, Mary," Noel said, flashing Mary his most dazzling smile, "We'd really like to get in. If you let us in, I'll draw you a picture, yeah?"
"Um... okay," Mary answered, still staring up at Noel as if she couldn't quite believe that he was real, "Thank you!"
"No, no, thank you," Noel answered, leaning over the counter to fish out some paper and a pen, "Any requests, Mary?"
"No," she answered, almost unable to speak, "Anything you like."
So Noel wrote 'To Mary. Lots of love, Noel. xxxx' in huge letters across the paper and began filling in the spaces in the corners with little Boosh figures. A row of monkey skulls held together with barbed wire, Tony Harrison shouting 'The Boosh is loose', the Hitcher and his thumb and then Rudi with the door in his afro in the last corner.
As he made the last few lines on Rudi's face, it was as if Julian was looking up at him from the paper, the old Julian that Noel loved more than anyone. He needed that Julian back, he needed him so badly it hurt. His life had no meaning if Julian wasn't in it. The world might as well end the day Julian left him.
"Hurry up," Dee whispered, snapping him out of his thoughts like a horsewhip across his back.
"Here, Mary," Noel said, giving her the paper and smiling as broadly as he could muster, "Keep it real, yeah?"
"Thank you!" Mary said, her eyes shining like stars, "Thank you."
"But, y'know, we really should be getting to that interview..."
"Yes, of course," she said and pressed a button to open the gate, "Good luck."
"Cheers," Noel said and gave her a little wave, "See you on the way out, babe."
And they were inside NME headquarters.
"Where now?" Dee asked as she pressed the button to the lift.
"We can't go upstairs," Sue said, looking at the plaque on the wall.
"Downstairs," Noel said, "Julian won't want to be seen either, I don't think he'll go upstairs right away."
"We should have a look-out," Dee said, "To see where Julian's headed."
"There's nowhere to hide," James said as they looked around. And there wasn't; the foyer was pretty much bare except for a couple of plants in the corner, glass doors leading to the stairs and a couple of other doors too.
"Behind those plants?" Julia asked, "There might be room."
"Only for someone extremely thin," Dee answered and turned to Chris with a glimmer in her eyes, "Like young Corner here."
Noel's stomach fell, as if someone had just punched him. Would he have to leave Chris behind? Wouldn't he have Chris with him any longer? He had counted on having Chris's calm, logical mind there next to him, guiding him along like some sort of fairy godmother. How would he manage now?
"Fine," Chris said and nodded, "I'll phone you when I see him coming."
"Don't you dare call Noel's phone," Dee said, "Not with his ringtone."
Chris smiled mischievously and nodded.
"I'll phone you, Dee-Dee."
The lift arrived with a tiny pling and the doors slid open.
"Better go then," James said.
"Good luck, Corner," Dee said, patting Chris on the head and ruffling his hair before following James and Julia into the lift.
Sue gave him a kiss on the cheek and a smile before she too went into the lift.
Chris met Noel's eyes, deep and calm, and took a step closer and brushed his cheek against Noel's.
"I hear moustaches grow better if they're kissed," he whispered into Noel's ear, "And music helps too."
He pulled away and smiled reassuringly, his hand on Noel's arm. Strange how this tiny, distant man could be so warm, his touch warming Noel right to the heart and Noel felt a little bit braver.
"Thanks," Noel answered, almost choking on his words, "Be careful."
"I will," Chris answered, "And so will you."
And he left, walking over to the plants in the corner and hiding behind them. It was a tight squeeze but he managed it without disturbing the huge leaves and suddenly he was gone, only visible to those who already knew he was standing there.
"Noel, come on," Dee said and Noel shook himself and joined the others in the lift.
*
"Julian! Hi!" Russell Brand grinned at him as if his life depended on it. Which, come to think of it, it did.
Bad Ju-Ju closed the door to Russell's dressing room and locked it.
"I hate you," he said simply and went up to Russell, "I'm going to kill you."
Russell's smile faltered a split-second before it returned in all its toothy glory.
"Oh, Julian, you are terribly amusing."
"No," Bad Ju-Ju answered, "Serious. Deadly serious."
He grabbed hold of Russell's hair and the gasp that came from Russell's mouth fired him up, like whiskey burning in his stomach.
This was going to be fun, a bit of torture.
Russell was babbling now, some inaudible gibberish Bad Ju-Ju didn't care about. Probably pleading for his life or something futile like that.
Bad Ju-Ju rummaged around on Russell's dressing table with his free hand and found what he was looking for: a razor.
"I like your beard," he said softly, meeting Russell's fear-filled eyes, "Let's get rid of it, shall we?"
"No! Not the beard! Anything but the beard! Julian, please."
"Why not?" Bad Ju-Ju found himself strangely intrigued.
"You can't take my beard. If I lose my beard, I lose all my comic powers. Like Samson."
Bad Ju-Ju stopped in his tracks, the razor just touching Russell's cheek. Was that it? Was that what had saved him from boring old Julian Barratt, his moustache being shaved off?
Yes, it was, that had to be it: there was no other explanation.
But what would happen when it started growing back again? Would he regress back into Julian Barratt then? What a horrible thought! He couldn't have that. He'd have to keep his face clean-shaven.
He turned to the mirror over Russell's dressing table and studied his face. Was that a slight shadow on his upper lip? Was his moustache growing back already?
Russell wrenched violently against his grip and pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Oh no, you don't," Bad Ju-Ju answered, tightening his grip on Russell's hair, "The fun's only just started."
"Julian, please let me go," Russell pleaded, "Please! I don't know what I've done but I swear I'll never do it again!"
"You won't," Bad Ju-Ju said, letting the razor slip along Russell's cheek, two shallow cuts following in its wake, "You won't be able to."
Russell was fighting harder now, arms flailing everywhere, scratching at Bad Ju-Ju's face and clothes, feet kicking at Bad Ju-Ju's shins. But Bad Ju-Ju didn't notice. All he could think of was how Russell's blood was forming tiny beads along the cut he had made. So he made more. And every time, tiny droplets of blood peeked out like shy bunnies looking out of their nests. Soon they grew too big and started overflowing, trickling down Russell's cheek like red ribbons.
"Julian! Fucking...! Let me go, you madman!"
This struggle was getting a bit boring, Bad Ju-Ju reflected as he made another cut along Russell's forehead. Maybe it was time to end it all. As much as he enjoyed standing here with Russell's life in his hands as if he owned it, he knew he wouldn't be properly happy until Russell was dead.
So he dropped the razor and took hold of Russell's shoulder with his free hand and hauled him over to the dressing table.
"Ready to say beddy bye-bye to the world, ikle Russell?" he asked, as if talking to a baby, grinning down at Russell's terrified face.
"Julian, please," Russell whispered, his voice made raw with shouting, "Please. Julian, I beg you."
"Denied," Bad Ju-Ju answered simply and with all his might he brought Russell Brand's head down towards the table. Russell's neck hit the table edge and snapped with a satisfying crunch. Russell's eyes met Bad Ju-Ju's a second before lolling in different directions like a puppet.
The dead body was suddenly much heavier and Bad Ju-Ju almost dropped it as Russell's last breath faded. Bad Ju-Ju hoisted him up by the hair and leant him against the table as he rummaged around again, looking for scissors this time.
He found a pair and began cutting his way through Russell Brand's neck, cutting the head off the body.
It was tough work, but Bad Ju-Ju didn't mind. He couldn't remember being happier. He could stay here all day, listening to the soft sound of blood dripping to the floor and the scissors snipping through flesh. The bruises Russell had inflicted on him started smarting but he didn't mind. They brought him back to earth, as if he had been floating off to nowhere, still high from the new life rushing through his veins.
Finally Russell's head was loose. Bad Ju-Ju held it up, letting the lifeless body slip to the floor with a dull thud.
"Nothing to say, Brand?" he asked the rust-red, messy face, "Cat got your tongue? Or, maybe it's Dr Bad Ju-Ju Pettifer who's got your tongue?"
He found Russell's bag on a chair and popped the head into it, together with the scissors and the razor, and off he went, his step unusually springy as if dancing on lilies.
*
They had left the lifts and Noel had walked along a couple of corridors, not knowing where he was going or what he was doing. The others had followed unquestioningly and Noel's heart had started to sink again. They still trusted him and believed that he had everything under control.
But then he had turned a corner and found himself in a dead end, long like a corridor but much wider than the previous. The ceiling was white with white pipes running along and stacks of chairs by the wall. And he knew this was it: this was where he'd meet evil-Julian again.
He didn't know how long they had been here now; he couldn't make himself ask for the time, afraid that the others would see how nervous he was. He had to keep up the façade, he had to pretend that he was certain that their plan would work. It was the most demanding piece of acting he had ever done. Usually he was just himself onscreen or onstage, but now he had to be something he was not: he had to be confident where he really wanted to run away and hide until it was all over.
Dee and Sue were sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall, Dee with her legs out in front of her and Sue with her knees tucked under her chin and Dee's CD in her hand, both of them in their own little world. In fact everyone seemed to be locked inside their own minds, jerking awake at the tiniest sound but not really registering the others in the room. Julia was sitting on a chair unmoving, hands on her stomach protectively, and James was pacing back and forth, head hanging low and hands in his waistcoat pockets.
Noel could almost touch the tension in the room, thick like fog.
How long had they been here now? Wouldn't Chris phone soon? Please phone, if only to tell us you're safe.
*
Noel wouldn't be at home. He wasn't stupid, he wouldn't stay there. Where could he be? Bad Ju-Ju pushed open the doors to BBC Television Centre and drew a deep breath, letting the chilly air prick his lungs. Russell Brand's bag hung heavy against his side, bumping softly against his hip as he walked, reassuring. Oh, if people knew what was in it, what would they think?
But Noel... How much would Noel know by now? He'd know about those DVDs, that had been Mike's job. (Bad Ju-Ju had realised this as he left; he had seen Mike staring up at him, shocked.) And Sue and Chris would probably have told him about their little encounter too. He should have killed them when he had the chance.
But then again, if Noel knew where Bad Ju-Ju was, perhaps he was following him? Perhaps Bad Ju-Ju would bump into him around the next corner?
Bad Ju-Ju scratched his naked chin. Or, maybe Noel thought he could predict Bad Ju-Ju's next step and had gone somewhere completely different?
That last possibility seemed the most plausible; Noel always liked to think that he could understand people.
Where would Noel think Bad Ju-Ju would go next? Bad Ju-Ju wandered down the street away from Television Centre, mulling this over. What he wanted most was Noel and since he had been interrupted in killing him this morning, he had gone after other things Noel cared about: The Horrors, the Boosh DVDs, interviewers and Russell Brand. Noel would figure that out, wouldn't he? And if Noel didn't then Dee most certainly would.
Therefore, Noel was probably waiting somewhere there was something he cared about. His parents' house? (Bad Ju-Ju had nothing against them, why would he hurt them?) Mike's flat? (Ditto.) Dave's flat? (And again.) Wherever Rich was staying? (And again.) Razorlight's flat? (Did they share a flat? And weren't they on tour anyway?) Gary Numan's flat? (Did Noel even know where Gary Numan lived? Bad Ju-Ju hoped not, that was just weird. And why would Bad Ju-Ju want to kill Gary Numan?) The Hen and Chicken? (Sweet place but why destroy it, it didn't mean anything any more.) Nuts magazine HQ? (Not even Noel cared much for them.) NME?
NME.
Of course. Noel liked the NME. And for some reason they seemed to like him too. Granted, the last thing they'd written had been about Julian Barratt and Rich, but that certainly didn't make things better. On the contrary.
NME it was. Noel was there and if Bad Ju-Ju, say, blew up the whole building then he could destroy both the pest-like magazine and Noel, at the same time.
*
Bad Ju-Ju pushed open the door to NME headquarters. Yes, Noel had been here, the air seemed to reek with his presence like bad perfume.
The dull receptionist looked up at him and instantly slapped her hand to her mouth, as if she'd seen a ghost.
"You're... you're..." she stuttered.
"Yeah, yeah," Bad Ju-Ju said dismissively with a wave of his hand, "Let me in?"
"Of course," she answered, "You're here for the interview? The others have gone up."
"No," Bad Ju-Ju said and stopped, "Up?"
"Yes, Noel Fielding and a group of people passed through here about forty-five minutes ago, for an interview. You might catch the end of it."
Bad Ju-Ju had been right: Noel was here, having managed to lie his way in rather elegantly, looked like.
"I'm sure I'll catch them," Bad Ju-Ju answered and left the reception behind him, heading for the lifts. He pressed the button and waited, scanning the room. What a frightfully dull place. Stylishly minimalist, apparently. There was nothing here other than doors, a plaque on the wall telling him where to find things and some plants in the corner.
Bad Ju-Ju turned to the plants again. Had they moved?
He looked closer. There certainly seemed to be a dark shadow behind them.
He went closer, softly, creeping along like a wolf stalking a deer. Yes, there was something behind those wide leaves. Bad Ju-Ju tip-toed up close and pulled the leaves to one side in one swift movement.
Chris Corner.
They stared at each other a moment, Chris with his phone half-way up to his ear, mouth open as if caught doing something dirty.
"Logical place to make a phone call from," Bad Ju-Ju said, scrutinising Chris's face for a reaction.
"As good as any," Chris answered calmly, lowering his arm slowly.
"Phoning Noel?"
"Might be."
"So he's here?"
"Might be."
"Do you ever not speak in riddles, Corner?"
"Only when all other possibilities have been exhausted."
"Why else would you be hiding behind some plants at NME, if Noel's not here? Or are you that desperate to be recognised that you hide at NME waiting to be discovered? Smuggling in reviews of your own albums, perhaps?"
Chris said nothing. He looked almost bored, as if he wasn't really listening. He always did this, disappearing into himself whenever something was said that might be the slightest criticism, as if he was above it all, too important to have to listen.
Well, not this time. There'd be no more haughty looks from Chris when Bad Ju-Ju was finished with him!
*
Noel looked up. What was that sound? There were all kinds of distant sounds around them, everything from the gurgling in the pipes above them to distant voices further up in the building. But this sound was much closer. Just around the corner, if he wasn't too mistaken. Had the receptionist phoned upstairs anyway and now someone was looking for them, ready to throw them out and report them to the police?
A long shadow grew on the corridor floor. The others had noticed it too and were getting to their feet, drawing closer together in a huddle.
Then, there stood Julian in the doorway, a bag on his shoulder and a terrifyingly sinister narrow smile on his face.
It was like being blinded by the sun, looking at Julian. Everything else melted away around him, leaving him standing in a bright, painful glow.
"Hello," he said simply, his calm voice a stark contrast to the halo of madness surrounding him.
"Why didn't Chris phone?" Noel heard Dee whisper tensely behind him.
"Chris, you say, Dee-Dee?" Julian asked. When did his hearing grow this acute? Usually he couldn't even hear what Noel was saying if they were in the same room, and now he could hear Dee whispering at such a distance?
"No," Dee squeaked, her hand grabbing hold of Noel's suit as if afraid of being blown over.
"Oh, I thought you I heard you say his name," Julian said, taking a couple of slow steps closer, "No need to worry about him: I beat him up before he could phone you. No problems. He's such a tiny thing, don't you think?"
Noel froze. Julian had beaten up Chris? How could he?! This wasn't his Julian standing in front of him: this was a monster. A monster that needed to be destroyed.
"You hateful creature!" Sue spat and bounded forward. But Dee grabbed her around the waist and only just held her back, digging her heels into the ground like a fierce little pony.
But Julian couldn't be speaking the truth completely, could he? Because Noel noticed that he had deep, recent scratches on his face and hands and that his shirt had been ripped. Chris had put up a good fight, looked like.
And Chris's struggle should not have to have been in vain; Noel would stop Julian if it was the last thing he did! This nonsense couldn't go on any longer.
He clenched his fists and took a step forward obstinately. He wasn't afraid anymore, just angry.
"You want me?" he shouted at Julian, "Come and get me."
"I will," Julian answered, "But first I want to show you something."
He unzipped his bag and dug his hand into it. He rummaged about a little, shaking the bag and with a flourish, pulled out something that looked like a brown ball with hair.
Noel stared at it a moment, trying to figure out what it was. Then suddenly he saw, as if an illusionist had snapped his fingers to end a magic trick. It was Russell Brand's head, covered in blood.
Icy shivers shot up Noel's back as he stood staring into Russell's empty, glassy eyes. Such a horrendous sight, it made his stomach turn and his limbs weaken as if his bones were turning to jelly. Julian had truly lost his mind.
"Yeah? So?" James asked, "You think we care?"
"Yeah," Dee joined in, mockingly, "That could be anyone's head. Are you trying to scare us? Pathetic, Barratt."
"You're all talk and no action," Sue threw in, "You've probably not killed anyone. That's just a mannequin's head."
"Useless," Dee added with a haughty laugh.
"Oh, don't be so certain," Julian answered, untouchable, "This'll be you when I'm finished, Dee-Dee."
"Then what are you waiting for?" she asked, stepping up next to Noel, "You aren't scared, are you, Barratt?"
"No," he answered, "Are you?"
"I'm never scared," she answered, "I'm Dee fucking Plume." And before anyone could stop her, she had flung herself forward, running at Julian with all her might. This was not according to plan! The plan had been to keep things as calm as possible and to avoid getting to close to evil-Julian. Noel lunged after her, not knowing what he was doing, breath catching in his throat. Fuck the plan: all he could think of was keep Dee safe!
She charged at Julian like a rugby player, arms around his waist and driving her shoulder into his abdomen. Julian took a step back to keep from falling, but kept his balance surprisingly well. Dee was pounding, kicking and biting anything and everything she could get at as Noel caught up with her. But before he could do anything, Dee pulled away with a screech, tumbling backwards in confusion.
Julian was chuckling quietly to himself and Noel couldn't understand what was going on. Dee was clutching her head, trying to find her balance, swearing loudly.
A bitter, eye-watering, chocking smell hit him and Noel realised what had happened: Julian had set Dee's hair on fire. And it burnt quickly with all that hairspray.
But before Noel knew what to do, Julia was at Dee's side, throwing James's scarf over her head, quenching the flames.
In the confusion, Sue at least was following the plan and had managed to sneak out without Julian noticing, Dee's CD still in her hand. Hopefully she would remember what she had to do instead of being distracted by Chris, whatever condition he might be in.
But something wrapped around Noel's neck and pulled him backwards, pressing hard against his throat. He screamed like a girl, flashbacks from this morning rushing through his mind. He had refused himself to think about it all day, but now the images seemed even more intense than back then. He clawed desperately at whatever it was at his throat, feeling his heart beating violently inside his skull.
It was Julian's arm at his neck, holding Noel in front of him like a human shield.
"Let go of him, Barratt!" came Dee's shrill voice, ready to charge at Julian again. Except that she didn't. She couldn't. She was leaning heavily on Julia, holding one of her feet off the ground. She'd been hurt.
Noel pulled harder, trying anything to get loose: biting, kicking, whatever.
Something cold caressed his cheek and he froze. What was it, a knife? He tried to pull away slightly, scrunching up his face to see what it was. Julian's chest was hot against his back, pressing hard against him, holding him firmly in place. It was a razor, a razor edged with dried blood.
"I don't think so," Julian answered, "But you can go if you like, Dee-Dee, I've got what I want now."
"I most certainly won't!" Dee spat back, swaying slightly against Julia, trying to stand on her foot but flinching and pulling it up again, clearly in a lot of pain.
Julian's arm pulled Noel's head back roughly, exposing his throat. Noel felt the cold blade against his skin, tickling as it brushed over his Adam's apple. Was this what had happened to Russell Brand? And to The Horrors? And to Chris, for that matter? Was this the end, having his throat cut open in the basement of NME headquarters by his best friend-gone-mad?
No! Obstinacy hotter than anything flared up inside him. He wouldn't have this!
He pulled away, strength he didn't know he had springing to life inside him, and the razor slipped from his throat and he felt it moving down his chest, skidding off his suit like it was armour.
Something warm and heavy hit him across the stomach and he was thrown backwards, Julian's arm still around him, keeping them both only just on their feet. Noel turned to see and saw James pulling away, having charged at Julian the same way Dee had just minutes earlier.
And stuck in James's wild white-man's afro, was Julian's razor.
Noel felt Julian's grip around his throat falter a second in the confusion and Noel grabbed at the chance and pulled free completely, digging his fingers into Julian's arm and bending it up Julian's back. James had been thinking the same thing, looked like, because they met behind Julian, both holding onto an arm each.
Julian struggled violently, kicking out, hitting Noel in the shin and making him almost lose his grip on him. But Noel held on like a wildcat biting into an eagle, determined not to let go.
Julia joined them, leaving Dee wobbling on one foot, and began tying Julian's hands together.
"Oi, that's my scarf," James said crestfallen, "It's already broken, isn't it?"
"Sorry," Julia said, "It's rather singed, yeah."
"Oh well," James said and sighed, "I suppose it's just a scarf. But I loved it so."
Julia knotted the ends together uncertainly.
"I don't think it'll keep long," she whispered.
"I'll stay here," James said, holding onto Julian's arms, sidestepping Julian's kicks like some sort of badly choreographed Riverdance.
Noel and Julia left him there and Noel hurried over to Dee, wrapping his arms around her, ready never to let go again.
"Oh, Delia, are you okay?"
"Don't worry about me, silly boy," she snapped, but leant heavily on him anyway, "Look."
She pointed over to Julian where Julia had her hands on his cheeks and was leaning in to kiss him. Noel couldn't help smiling, they truly were gorgeously sweet together.
Julian was fighting against his bonds and James's grip, wriggling in Julia's arms like a poisonous snake. She kissed him again but he kept up the struggle, growling menacingly at her as she pulled away.
She turned to Noel and Dee, scared.
"It's not working."
"It has to," Dee hissed back, "Try again."
Julia turned back to Julian and Noel noticed movement behind them.
Chris!
Chris was hobbling into view, a black eye dark against his pale skin and half-dried blood on his chin from a cut lip. He looked completely exhausted. Noel picked Dee's arms off himself and rushed to him, catching him as he fell, light as a feather.
"You have to kiss him," Chris said, voice rough like sandpaper.
"Me?"
"Yes. You started it: you have to end it. Julia's just his partner, you're his lover. It's the only way to set things right."
Noel stared at Chris.
"How do you know that?"
"Doesn't matter!" Chris snapped back, "Just kiss him."
"But... I... What?!"
"Just do it!" Chris said, "Why do you think people have affairs? Because they're more passionate. That's what Julian needs now; something extreme to snap him back into himself. He's on one end of the scale: complete evil, and yours and his relationship is on the other end: complete love."
"But Dee... Julia...?"
"I don't know, do I?" Chris snapped and froze, his face softening, "Actually, I do. Dee's got a torch in her magic handbag. I'll shine it on your suit and everyone'll be blinded and won't see a thing. Happy now, Fielding?"
Noel nodded, letting go of Chris as he hurried over to Dee's handbag by the wall, frowning at himself and at Chris. Chris's theory made sense and yet he was so reluctant to follow. He didn't want everyone to know about him and Julian. He enjoyed the secret, having something that was just his, something that he didn't need to share with the world. And how did Chris know about it anyway? Granted, Chris knew everything, but still.
Noel dug through Dee's handbag, finding lipstick, CDs, tissues, pens, hairpins, keys, rubber bands, a cap and a small glass ashtray before finally pulling out the tiny silver torch. He went back to Chris and gave it to him.
"It's not working," Julia said again, pulling away completely this time, hands over her mouth and tears in her eyes. Julian was struggling like a wild horse against James, almost shaking him off.
"Ready?" Chris asked, arching an eyebrow at Noel and turning the torch on. Noel nodded once and walked up to Julian, determined. This was the last alternative; if this didn't work then there was nothing else that could be done and he'd be dead by tomorrow, possibly sooner.
Chris pointed the torch at Noel's suit and millions of tiny stars began dancing on the walls and ceiling and floor all around them, as if they were surrounded by fairies. He heard Dee gasp behind him and he saw James blinking madly over Julian's shoulder.
Julian, however, didn't seem to notice. He was glaring at Noel, as if daring him to come closer.
And Noel did. If this worked then everything would be set right. If it didn't then at least he'd die knowing that he had tried.
Noel stopped right in front of Julian, their chests almost touching, the heat radiating off Julian, suffocating. Noel slipped his hands to Julian's cheeks, so unfamiliarly sleek, like egg yolk.
He met Julian's eyes a final time, searching for the something that made this person standing in front of him his Julian, that certain spark he'd never seen in anybody else's eyes, that spark that made his heart jump every time it glittered down at him.
But nothing. Julian's eyes were cold and dull, as if half-dead. Noel shivered under his gaze and had to force himself to look away.
Julian wrenched again, almost pulling free from Noel's hands and Noel knew he couldn't dally any longer.
Carefully, as if it was the first time, he leant up and touched Julian's lips with his own.
Julian's lips were cold and drawn tight, tense against Noel's. So this was what all of today would culminate into, a dismissive kiss? Noel had to save him, to pull him out of this evil mindframe. To thaw him.
Noel kissed him again and Julian's lips quivered ever so slightly, like a blade of grass in a summer breeze. Tentatively, Noel touched Julian's lower lip with his tongue and he heard Julian inhale sharply, the muscles in his cheeks under Noel's fingertips relaxing.
And Noel felt safe, as if nothing could harm him now. He leant closer, resting his chest against Julian's, ready to melt into him. Why should he want to leave? This was where he belonged, with Julian.
Familiar music drifted into the room as Noel kissed Julian again and again softly, childishly almost.
The sun stretched out and sang golden to him.
His eyes became leaden-lidded.
Noel smiled and closed his eyes, shutting out the rest of the world. It didn't matter any more, all that mattered was Julian. And Julian's lips were softening against his like flower petals.
It crossed his mind never to move,
So delicious was this place and feeling.
He didn't know how long they had stood here now, as if time itself has ceased existing. But he knew that he could stay here twice as long, one hand in Julian's hair and the other on his cheek, music in his ears and Julian so close.
And then, almost unnoticeable, like dawn growing into day, Julian was kissing him back. Noel's whole body quivered as kiss after kiss was answered, shyly and apologetically. He stroked Julian's cheek, more patient than he had ever been with anyone. He couldn't rush this; Julian had to come back to him in his own time.
He was off like a dream,
Dizzy from the heat, but O! so content.
Noel pushed a little further, overwhelmed by the sheer simplicity of it all. There were no demands from either, it was just a kiss. And because it was nothing more, it couldn't be anything less either, just pure, undiluted love.
Julian sighed deeply and was suddenly much heavier against Noel's chest. And before Noel really knew what was happening, he had sunk to his knees on the ground, Julian's unconscious body next to him, head resting on his lap.
The glittering lights disappeared and a sudden commotion erupted around them. But Noel refused to notice, focus only on Julian, stroking his pale, stubbly cheek and watching him breathe as if asleep.
"Are you alright?"
"What happened?"
"Is Julian alright?"
"Is he dead?"
"No, he's breathing, he's fainted."
"Is he alright?"
"Noel? Noel, are you there?"
"Shh, let them be," Chris said faintly, his hand on Noel's shoulder heavy and reassuring, "They'll be fine."
Noel sat watching Julian's limp body and peaceful face until his legs fell asleep and his knees smarted. But he didn't move, waiting for Julian to wake up.
And then, a movement in Julian's face, a tiny flex in a muscle under his eye.
Noel bent closer.
"Julian?"
Deep lines appeared on Julian's forehead as he frowned, struggling to open his eyes. Finally, those dark brown eyes met Noel's. Relief like an icy breeze blew through Noel and he couldn't help giggling, so unbelievably happy to see his Julian again.
"I thought that song was about me the first time I heard it," Julian whispered so softly, "Junior Band, Julian Barratt."
"Maybe it is," Noel answered, not knowing whether he was laughing or crying any more, just so unearthly happy that his Julian was back.
"I'm sorry," Julian said, touching Noel's leg, "I'm so sorry, Noel."
"Oh, shut up," Noel exclaimed, cradling Julian's head in his lap, never wanting to let go ever again.
But Julian pulled away, sitting up and glancing around at the others hesitantly.
He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could form words, Dee had launched herself at him as if she wasn't hurt at all, almost knocking him backwards.
"I hate you so much, Barratt," she said, hugging him tightly, "Don't you ever go and do that ever again!"
She pulled away and patted his head affectionately. He smiled quickly up at her, still uncertain.
Julia touched his cheek and rearranged his hair like a mother fussing over an unruly child.
"I'm so sorry," Julian whispered, leaning in to her touch.
"I know," she answered softly and wrapped her arms around him, "I know." Julian met Noel's eyes a second before burying his face in Julia's shoulder. And Noel knew he couldn't be angry with him. He looked so scared and so sorry and Noel forgave everything instantly.
"We should leave," he said, getting to his feet slowly, his muscles dead from sitting like this so long.
Chris smiled at him and nodded, as if to tell him that he had done the right thing and that he was proud of him.
Noel helped Dee up and suddenly there was Julian, sweeping her off her feet like a princess. She screamed and wriggled against him but he held her tight.
"I'm going to hurt you so bad," she said, settling back in his arms and planting a kiss on his cheek, "I still hate you."
They made their way back along the corridors and to the lifts, Noel with his arm around Chris and his other hand holding onto Julia's, closely followed by Julian carrying Dee and James bringing up the rear, his singed scarf in one hand and Dee's magic handbag in the other.
In the foyer they met Sue who instantly hugged everyone and began fussing over Chris and Dee's injuries.
They left through the glass gate, the receptionist still there, staring at them.
"Bye!" Dee called to her, waving from her seat in Julian's arms.
"Bye..." the receptionist answered, "I hope the interview went well..."
"It was... interesting," Noel said, "I don't think you'll see it in print."
"Oh," she answered, "I'm sorry. Well, good bye, then."
"Yeah, bye!" Noel chirped and they were back outside in the chilly London air.
*
The plane to Berlin took off, leaving London to sort itself out far behind. (They had forgotten Russell Brand's head down in the basement of NME HQ but no-one wanted to mention it. Also, the razor in James's hair had had to be cut out, despite James's violent protests. Chris had given him a new haircut but James was still very tetchy.)
Dee sat with her foot on Noel's lap, leaning against James. (Her ankle had been sprained when Julian had stomped on it and it was bandaged tightly now.) In front of them sat Julian and Julia and across the aisle Sue and Chris. Chris was wearing large sunglasses to hide his black eye even though Dee had told him that it made him look very dashing and mysterious.
"I want a party," Dee said, "Because mine and Noel's going-away dinner for Sue and Chris didn't happen. Julian, you pay."
"Of course," Julian answered. He was still feeling very guilty about everything and Dee knew to take advantage of it.
"There must be beer and vodka. And sausages and fresh bread..."
"Anything you want, Dee-Dee," Julian said, "You all need fattening up anyway, you're all too thin."
Dee snapped something back and their mock-fighting started again, like siblings that just can't let each other be.
Sue was already asleep on Chris's shoulder and Noel leant over to him. He had meant to ask so many times but he'd never got around to it.
"How did you know about me and Julian?"
"I've always known," Chris answered, "Everyone does."
"Everyone? What do you mean 'everyone'?"
"All of us," Chris answered matter-of-factly, "We've always known."
"What, even Dee?"
"Yes."
"And Julia?"
"Yes."
"But why don't I know that you know?"
"Don't know," Chris shrugged.
"Does Julian know that you know?"
"No."
"Shouldn't he?"
"Do you think that's a good idea?" Chris asked, his face blank.
Noel glanced at Julian who was leaning on the back of his seat, bantering with Dee. The only reason he could be so open with her was because he thought she had no idea. He thought that the secret was safe and that was why he dared be so friendly with her.
"No," Noel said, smiling as Dee ruffled Julian's hair, "Best not to tell him."
"I think you did a good job," Chris said, "Saving the world. I'll fix your ringtone if you like."
"Aww, thanks, Chris!" Noel chirped and gave him his phone, not knowing that Chris would change it to a high-pitched rendition of Towers of London's song 'I'm a Rat'. (Nor did he know that this would infuriate Dee so much it would culminate in her chasing him and Chris around a Berlin park and almost pushing them into a pond.)
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no subject
Date: 2007-03-05 05:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-05 10:02 pm (UTC)To be fair, I freaked myself out a bit during the writing of this, so you're not alone there.
x
no subject
Date: 2007-03-05 08:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-05 10:03 pm (UTC)But thank you!
xx
no subject
Date: 2007-03-06 07:15 am (UTC)<3 the love...poor Russel :P
no subject
Date: 2007-03-06 07:30 am (UTC)But thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed the fic.
x
no subject
Date: 2007-03-06 10:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-06 12:15 pm (UTC)Well yes, The Horrors did get a bit forgotten at the end. Let's blame that on Noel being fickle and easily distracted?
But yes Russell Brand did deserve to die. Thank you! I've been saying that for ages and no-one seems to listen.
x
no subject
Date: 2007-03-06 11:17 am (UTC)Naughty Mice Explode? Genius!
no subject
Date: 2007-03-06 12:16 pm (UTC)x
no subject
Date: 2007-03-08 05:48 pm (UTC)Hope you don't mind.
Will report back with my views.
Sounds good!!
x
no subject
Date: 2007-03-08 05:52 pm (UTC)x
no subject
Date: 2007-03-08 09:00 pm (UTC)And I'm well aware I need help.
I love your fic, you're a great writer XD How silly stupidly cliched does that sound? It's true though, your work is always of the happy making variety.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-08 09:05 pm (UTC)I was still a little bit worshipping Julian as he ran rampage and killed everyone. I don't think that's wrong. He only killed people who deserved it. (Except maybe Jonathan Ross? I can't quite decide if he deserved it or not.)
x
no subject
Date: 2007-03-08 09:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-09 04:59 pm (UTC)Yes, pancakes.
HOW BLOODY AMAZING IS THIS?!
I was a wee bit upset that you killed of Wossy, but shit happens :]
Totally amazing.
Brilliant.
Nice one.
xxx
no subject
Date: 2007-03-09 05:41 pm (UTC)Thank you.
(And huzzah for pancakes.)
x
no subject
Date: 2007-03-11 09:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-07 02:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-13 02:33 pm (UTC)just like it should be :)
the way you portrayed dee was adorable
and I fucking loved the NME skit!
no subject
Date: 2009-02-28 10:20 am (UTC)