What Was Left Out of the Book
Lost Chapter from A Drink With Shane
Pleasant restaurant somewhere in the heart of London. Sun shines outside, but  the spacious, meticulously clean room, almost empty in this early afternoon time, offers a welcome shade. Occassional waitress floats here and there, quiet, unobtrusive music fills the air. One of the tables near the wall is occupied by two people. The table is small, discreetly placed in a distance from others, the sofa next to it obviously intended for two. And it’s occupied by two – predictably, a man and a woman. In the midst of the table, a vase with fresh exotic flowers stands, surrounded by several almost empty glasses. Several fags and smears of ash mar the whiteness of the table cloth. Next to the vase, in a safe distance from the fags, a tiny black electronic object lies. A closer look reveals a dictaphone.

A temporary silence seems to have fallen over the table. Shane taps his thick fingers on his glass, mechanically. Vicky plays with an exotic flower, thoughtfully.

Suddenly, a third figure blocks the view. He stops, looks around, and then determinedly heads towards the table. Several feet from it, he stops again, then changes direction, walks over to the closest empty table and gets hold of a chair. He pulls it to his original destination and sits down.



V: Oh, Joey!!! Look, Shane. I was going to tell you... well.. I mean... I should have said it years ago maybe but... OK. I think you should know... maybe you guessed already... erm... I... I love Joey...
S: I am with you, Vicky!
(Joey half-rises, discomposedly.)
J: Shane!! Do not listen to her!! What the fuck, Vicky?! I swear Shane! I... never...!!! (He falls back, despondently.) Honestly, Shane! I would not dare... With best friend! I mean with missus of best friend!! NO! I would not even dream about it! Shane! Shane...
V: Shut up, please! And you listen to me, sweat pea, please, don’t misunderstand me! Yes, there was Van, there was Ronnie, there was Christy, there was... uhm, never mind, but with Joey it always was purely platonic!
J: Nah! Shane!! I swear I didn't take part in it!! I do not know what that platonic shite is about!
(Vicky begins to sob.)
S: What you have done to her, Joey! Vicky calm down! What the fuck, Joey!! Look! Vicky, please... don't pay attention to the fucker...
J: Erm... I... Shane... I... didn't mean it. I didn't mean anything. But... honestly Shane! I do not know what she is talking about! What love? I do not ...
S: You do not love her?! (Vicky begins to cry.) She is not good enough for you (Vicky begins to howl.), you bastard?!!!
J: No, Shane, no!! I mean... She is... She is OK...
(Vicky becomes a bit quieter not to miss a word, but Shane's roar covers everything.)
S: "OK"?! OK for what?!
J: For everything!!!
(Shane's face changes.)
J: Nothing!! I mean... She is great!! Yeah, really, she is so great and beautiful and things! She is a queen! A real girlfriend for a real star!! I mean... punk legend!! For a punk legend!!!
V: Yes, you are a punk legend, Joey! The man who introduced sax to punk! Real innovator!
J: She is so gorgeous! It's not for me. Yes! That's what I meant! I would never dare! I would never even dream about having something with her... I mean doing... You know Shane...
S: YES! I know! It's not necessary to let us into your dirty fantasies, bastard!!
J: Shane, I swear!...
S: Shut up! You drove a lady into tears!!
(Vicky begins to sob again, enthusiastically.)
J: I would never... ever... do ... IT...
(Vicky bursts into tears, desperately.)
V: Joey....
V: How you could...
S & J: What he/I could?
J: I DID NOTHING!!!
S: WHY?!
J (absolutely disappointed and confused): I... I do not know...
S (with evil joy): As always. What do you know at all. There was nobody around to teach you? Should we help you, Joey boy?
(Joey has got lost completely. He looks at Shane, at Vicky, at Shane again. He'd like to disappear right now but does not know how to do it imperceptibly. Vicky who started all this decides to help him.)
V: Shane, it's OK, leave him alone. He is a nice guy after all.
S: Aha, nice guy who hates you!
J: Shane, I don't...
V: He doesn't hate me!! WE...
(Joey gets pale.)
S: He admitted it just seconds ago, here in front of both of us!!
V: NO! He does not. I know! We just...
(Joey gets even paler.)
V: We just misunderstood him! You did, Shane! I’ve always known he is a nice guy. He is just... shy and...
S: Aha, look at this nice guy - freaky junky...
J (coughs): Do you mind, guys, that I am here...
S: Fuck off, nobody is fucking talking to you, bastard. Look at that old nasty wreck, Vicky.
V: Shane! He is always so friendly and helpful!
J: Look at yourself, fucker! I can still light a fag at least.
S: You can't get your own girlfriend, just mess around and hook others' up, you loser!!!
(Shane fumbles in his pocket for a fag. Vicky blushes and bites her lower lip.)
J: I am not fucking hen-pecked!!
S: Where is the bloody lighter?!
J (lighting his fag): I can have loads of them!
S (inhaling deeply): Shut up, Joey, who cares, you've mounted you hobby-horse and nothing will rid us of obtrusive details, huh?
J: I’ve just told you...
S: I know, I heard it shiteloads of time... ladies' man. Krshhhhhhhhhh. "I can..." "I have..." And only fuck hookers in dark alleys.
J (with a wide smile): Why do you call your sweet groupies "hookers", Shane? Do they ask you for money?!
(Vicky gets interested.)
S: You would not get a tiny piece of the skinniest arse, Joey, if you weren't with me!
V: You fucking pimp!! <bang>
(Vicky’s bag lands on Shane’s head.)
S (trying to cover himself with arms): Joey! What the fuck! Why do you do it! I've fucking asked you thousand times!!!
J: Stop, Vicky! Please! Stop!! We were just kidding!! You know... it's kinda jokes... we always do it this way! I mean we were just pecking!!! Stop it!!
(Joey has to hug her firmly to pull her off Shane, carefully. Vicky lets him sit her back on the soft sofa, respectfully.)
S: Give me another fag, Joey! (after trying to pick up the old one from the floor where it dropped after first Vicky's blow)
(Vicky dusts off her bag, meticulously, and sips her drink, neatly. Joey lights the fag, obediently.)
S (inhaling, with his eyes closed, tiredly): Helpful, you said... (letting smoke out and watching crooked quasi rings) So what did he help you with?
(Shane stares at Vicky, unexpectedly.)
(Joey begins to fidget, jitterily.)
Vicky (sipping her drink): Well, he is a nice guy...
S: We've heard it, right, Joey?
(Joey swallows and nods.)
J: I'll go and buy me a drink. Anybody wants anything?
S: Do not bother , Joey, here's a waitress. Nice looking one, by the way...
(Joey smiles nervously and lookes at Vicky instead of the approaching waitress. For some reason...)
S: Sit fucking down, Joey! Do not tower over me!!
(Joey sits down and the displeasure on his face slowly turns into the usual charming smile as soon as the waitress’s decolletage freezes over him in expectation of orders...)
J: Anybody wants anything? (Repeats the question, looking at the nice – Shane was right – young girl. As nobody says anything – the nice young girl included – Joey announces with pathos:) Tripple vodka and grapefruit juice, please!
(As the waitress writes the order down, Joey looks with hesitation either at her moving hand or at her waving breasts, but adds nothing and the girl peacefully fucks off to the bar. He follows her with his eyes and then sighs; it is obvious that he'd rather have left with her than stayed at the table with his long term friend and the most beautiful lady in the room.)
S: So what did you help Vicky with, you nice guy Joey?
J: Come on , Shane! I did nothing! I told you!
V: He can listen, Shane! And understand!
S: Your specialty, Joey?
J: What's wrong, Shane? Isn't it normal...
S: To charm your hostess, woman of your friend?
J: I did nothing!
S: So Vicky lies?
J: No, but I did nothing special, is being friendly to an aggrieved and depressed friend's girl a crime?!
S: So he was caring, solicitous, clasped you to his bosom and dried your tears with his kisses?
V: With clean handkerchiefs!
(Joey chuckles.)
(Shane casts a severe glance at him but joins chuckling.)
V: No! He was sitting there, polishing his whistle...
S: Krshhhhhhh.
V: He listened to me!!
(Another „krshhhhhhh“ from Shane.)
V: And then he brought a bottle and a glass.
S: One glass?
J: When she took it, I didn't mind, I can drink from the bottle, you know...
V: You washed it for me!
J: No-one would drink from a glass full of fags...
V: He listened...
S: And?
V: ... and never ever fucking interrupted me!!! (a fierce glance at Shane) He stayed up with me till morning!
J: Shane! The TV in my room was been broken!!
(Shane nods because he knows about the TV – it was him who  broke it. He dropped a pack of stuff inside and tried to extract it out.)
V: And when I fell asleep, he covered me with your coat!
J: I was looking for another fag pack, the coat lied on the floor so I just threw it on the sofa!
V: And then he gently kissed me on my forehead...
J: I stumbled over a pile of books and CDs on the floor!
V (turning to Joey): And you helped me to get out of the bathroom when the lock got jammed!
J: I didn't know it was jammed and somebody in... I just pulled the fucking door! And when you fell into my fucking arms, should have I dropped you on the floor?
Waitress: Your vodka, sir!!
J: Thanks! You see, Shane! I did nothing!!
(Joey gulps down half of the drink. Shane takes the glass and spills half of the the remaining contents on his shirt while gulping.)
V: Once he switched the TV when there was a horror and I froze and could not move...
J: Sorry it was time for my favourite show.
V: And Joey, I saw you when you leafed through my yoga books!
J: I had put some money in one of them.
V: Oh, so it was your money?! I thought it was a present from Shane...
S: Krshhhhhhhhh.
V: You also asked me about the currently fashionable colour of stockings!
J: Shane asked me to buy a present...
(Shane makes really dreadful eyes.)
J: ... for you!!
(Shane steps on Joey’s foot.)
J (screaming): ... but I failed...
(V. grabs the whiskey glass and finishes the last drops at the bottom.)
S: You got that lovely dress instead!
(Shane and Joey reach for the empty glass simultaneously.)
V (turning to Joey again): And you idled around, sighing and looking at me!
J: Shane expropriated my collection of magazines!
V: What fucking magazines?!
S & J (exchanging a looks, together): Saxophone Journal!
V: Shane?
S: I needed it when bed's leg got broken! I gave it back later!
J: Where is N. 2 from 1998 and N.8 from 2001?
S: Again? Not now OK?
V: And he invited me to have a drink at backstage bar...
J: Shane, it's...
S: I know! Passed.
V: What?
J: Shane was tired and he wanted to rest... on his own...
S: I didn't want to worry you...
V: And you held my hand...
J: How else could I be sure she wouldn't leave unexpectedly?!
V: And...
S: OK, enough! I got it... So you didn't help Vicky, Joey?
J: No! I tell, you, Shane!!
S: But if she had asked you?
J: For what, Shane?
S: Shite, Joey! Do not play a stupid fool, would you help her if she asked you?
J: Erm... It depends, Shane... If I was not tired, or busy or...
S: It would stop you from helping my missus?!
J: I'd think, Shane... If it was really urgent and if you didn't mind... I would!!
(A short pause.)
J: ... a bit...
S: You see, Vicky! What a nice guy Joey!!


Silence falls over the table again, but a relaxed kind of silence, not an oppresive one. Looks like peace was given a chance. Vicky, pretending that she wants to smell the flowers, bends over the table and checks the dictaphone. A hint of paleness creeps into her rosy cheeks. Oh, no. The tiny red light is not blinking. The thing hasn’t been switched on at all. She sighs, heavily. Looks around the table, disconsolately, but sees that neither Shane, nor Joey are paying attention. She picks up the dictapnone and slips it into her bag, stealthily. And she makes a mental note about trying to arrange an evening in two with Joey, shortly.
© MacRua, 2006; with Zuzana
photo © unknown