Charlotte Forfieh Extract from April Fools
“
H
ello Tide,” said Zee, all cool in his white zoot suit and Panama hat, an antique dress cane at his side. The cane? An affectation. The king of gods needs no walking aid. I nodded back, what’s up. I couldn’t manage much more, even if I’d wanted to. The trudge up Primrose Hill had left me breathless. Zee patted the bench next to him. I stood and played for time by taking in the view. I could see the BT Tower, the London Eye and there, glinting in the distance despite the clouds crowding in, the Shard. Down in the park, the joggers, dog-walkers and laughing children looked tiny. They had no idea what was going down up here. “What do you want?” I said. “I’ve got somewhere to be.” Zee spat into the grass. “It’s about the kid. He’s fucked up.” “Tell me something I don’t know,” I said with a sigh. I’d bumped into Gaia three days earlier and she’d done nothing but curse Chance’s name and wail about how The Donald didn’t believe in climate change. Mars meanwhile was doing my nut in, swaggering around like he owned the place, drunk on the possibility of war. And all because my best friend and flatmate Chance had backed Trump in the US Presidential election. So, why was it me and not him atop this big-ass hill on a moody spring day? I looked back the way I had come, half-expecting to see Chance in his black leather jacket and Doc Martens, bounding uphill. “The Council plans to demote Chance from god to concept,” Zee said with relish. “He should never have been promoted.” Okay. These things happen. I have… what you might call… perspective.
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charlotte forfieh
