Wheelchair.

Got an email from Oscar in BVI. He’s going frantic. Apparently Blackjack and his crew were spotted in Martinique and he wants me to help him sail down and sort them out. Bugger that.

I give Simon a call. He's surprised to hear from me.
“Dick! How are you? Where are you more to the point?”
I tell him and it turns out he isn’t far away. Holland Park. He gives me the address.
“It’s on the ground floor. You’ll see why when you get here.”
So off I trot. His flat is in a new three story block. A woman in a nurse’s uniform opens the door and shows me into a small conservatory. And there’s Simon. He doesn’t look good to be honest. Sitting in a wheel chair, very pale and thin and there’s that smell you get in hospitals. Medicine and disinfectant.
“Bloody hell what happened to you mate?”
“It’s my spine Dick. Accident in Thailand. Constant pain. Lots of bloody medication. It’s a bastard.”
“I’ll be buggered. Surely they can operate?”
“Not easily but I’ve got people working on it.”
“So I take it you sold your mews place?”
“Oh yes. Had to. Russians bought it. They were fighting over it. Sold the Bacon painting too. Got 47 million pounds for it. Fat lot of good it’s doing me now. What brings you to London?”
“Me…..I was in BVI. Having trouble with some pirates in the Caribbean. Long story. I thought I’d come here and look for the Zeitgeist.”
“Makes sense.”
“ Do you still do your TV show?”
“The Beeb wheel me out now and again. The wheelchair was a good gimmick for a while. I got a lot of sympathy.”
“How about writing?”
“I write the odd review if somebody asks me. It’s not so easy to get around.”
“What do you think of Tracey Emin?”
“Well between you and me Dick it’s rubbish. Can’t say that of course. She has a big following. I’d get lynched.”
Probably not a good time to ask about the Zeitgeist.
“Well I’m sorry to see you looking like this.” I say. “What happened to your back anyway?”
“Thailand. That’s what bloody happened  Dick. You remember Arthur….my old school chum? Well I went to Bangkok to make a documentary. Arthur was involved as a sort of research assistant.”

Clearly something bad must have happened but I keep my mouth shut and let him talk.. He obviously wants to.

“Arthur was living in a village up in the north of Thailand. We met up in Bangkok.”

I get a vivid impression of Arthur in the lobby of the Landmark Hotel waiting for Simon. Sukhumvit Saturday night. Thais and tourists coming and going. The street busy with people and vendors. Nana Plaza getting warmed up for another night of debauchery.

I'll sort this later.