White Teeth

‘Oh, you’re right there,’ agrees Abdul-Mickey, plonking himself down in the seat next to Archie, betraying no reverence for the legless chair. ‘You don’t want some resentful fucking rodent on your hands.’

Archie smiles. Mickey’s the kind of guy you want to watch the footie with, or the cricket, or if you see a fight in the street you want him to be there, because he’s kind of a commentator on life. Kind of a philosopher. He’s quite frustrated in his daily existence because he doesn’t get much opportunity to show that side of himself. But get him free of his apron and away from the oven, give him space to manoeuvre – he really comes into his own. Archie’s got a lot of time for Mickey. A lot of time.

‘When they go

‘Yeah, well,’ says Archie, not disagreeing but not completely agreeing either, ‘I ’spect they’ve got to go through their notes and that… ’Snot like just getting up and telling a few howlers, is it? I mean, it’s not just about pleasing all the people all of the time, now, is it? It’s Science.’ Archie says Science the same way he says Modern, as if someone has lent him the words and made him swear not to break them. ‘Science,’ Archie repeats, handling it more firmly, ‘is a different kettle of fish.’

Mickey nods at this, seriously considering the proposition, trying to decide how much weight he should allow this counterargument Science, with all its co

‘On the contrary, Archibald, on the bloody contrary. Speeshuss argument, that is. Common fucking mistake, that is. Science ain’t no different from nuffink else, is it? I mean, when you get down to it. At the end of the day, it’s got to please the people, you know what I mean?’

Archie nods. He knows what Mickey means. (Some people – Samad for example – will tell you not to trust people who overuse the phrase at the end of the day – football managers, estate agents, salesmen of all kinds – but Archie’s never felt that way about it. Prudent use of said phrase never failed to convince him that his interlocutor was getting to the bottom of things, to the fundamentals.)

‘And if you think there’s any difference between a place like this and my caff,’ Mickey continues, somehow full throated and yet never increasing above a whisper in terms of decibel, ‘you’re having a laugh. ’Sall the same in the end. ’Sall about the customer in the end. Exempli fuckin’ gratia: it’s no good me putting Duck à l’orange on the menu if nobody wants it. Vis-à-vis, there’s no point this lot spending a lot of money on some clever ideas if they’re not going to do some fucking good for someone. Think about it,’ says Mickey, tapping his temple, and Archie follows the instruction as best he can.

‘But that don’t mean you don’t give it a bloody chance,’ continues Mickey, warming to his theme. ‘You’ve got to give these new ideas a chance. Otherwise you’re just a philistine, Arch. Now, at the end of the day, you know I’ve always been your cutting-edge type of geezer. That’s why I introduced Bubble and Squeak two years ago.’

Archie nods sagely. The Bubble and Squeak had been a revelation of sorts.

‘Same goes here. You’ve got to give these things a chance. That’s what I said to Abdul-Colin and my Jimmy. I said: before you jump the gun, come along and give it a chance. And here they are.’ Abdul-Mickey flicked his head back, a vicious tick of recognition in the direction of his brother and son, who responded in kind. ‘They might not like what they hear, of course, but you can’t account for that, can you? But at least they’ve come along with an open mind. Now, me personally, I’m here on good authority from that Magid Ick-Ball – and I trust him, I trust his judgement. But, as I say, we shall wait and see. We live and fucking learn, Archibald,’ says Mickey, not to be offensive, but because the F-word acts like padding to him; he can’t help it; it’s just a filler like beans or peas, ‘we live and fucking learn. And I can tell you, if anything said here tonight convinces me that my Jimmy might not have sprogs wiv skin like the surface of the fucking moon, then I’m converted, Arch. I’ll say it now. I’ve not the fucking foggiest what some mouse’s got to do with the old Yusuf skin, but I tell you, I’d put my life in that Ick-Ball boy’s hands. I just get a good feeling off that lad. Worth a dozen of his brother,’ adds Mickey slyly, lowering his voice because Sam’s behind them. ‘A dozen easy. I mean, what the fuck was he thinking, eh? I know which one I’d’ve sent away. No fear.’

Archie shrugs. ‘It was a tough decision.’

Mickey crosses his arms and scoffs, ‘No such thing, mate. You’re either right or you ain’t. And as soon as you realize that, Arch, suddenly your life becomes a lot fucking easier. Take my word for it.’

Archie takes Mickey’s words gratefully, adding them to the other pieces of sagacity the century has afforded him: You’re either right or you ain’t. The golden age of Luncheon Vouchers is over. Can’t say fairer than that. Heads or tails?

‘Oi-oi, what this?’ says Mickey with a grin. ‘Here we go. Movement. Microphone in action. One-two, one-two. Looks like the ma

‘… and this work is pioneering, it is something that deserves public money and public attention, and it is work the significance of which overrides, in any rational person’s mind, the objections that have been levied against it. What we need…’

What we need, thinks Joshua, are seats closer to the front. Typical cuntish pla