Heaven's Promise by Paolo Hewitt

noticed.’
    â€˜When?’
    â€˜This morning, in the shop.’
    â€˜You came in?’
    You could see Dillon searching his brain for confirmation of my statement and it was not a pretty sight. I panicked even further.
    â€˜Look Dillon, how can I get rid of this?’
    â€˜You can’t. But stop the worry. Look around you. No-one’s dead are they? No-one’s being carted off to hospital. You’re too cool for your own good. Relax. Everything is fine. It’s a wicked feeling. Everyone here will tell you the same thing.’
    â€˜I know,’ I replied, gazing over at a group of herberts, one of whom was now indulging in a mock striptease to the loud encouragement of all his friends.
    â€˜It’s like this lot have just discovered there’s more to life than bloodshed down The Shed at Chelsea on a Saturday afternoon.’
    â€˜They’ve been coming here since the club started. You wouldn’t believe it, would you? Ecstasy has done more to put them on the right track than anything or anybody ever will.’
    â€˜Jesus,’ I put in, ‘you sound like Timothy Leary.’
    â€˜Who’s he? A DJ?’ Taking our soft drinks, we found a vacant table and started parlaring on the usual subject of our respective business, Dillon filling me in on some up and coming releases, how the shop was doing, and more chit-chat, chit-chat, chit-chat, when suddenly, about twenty minutes into the conversation my stomach suddenly turned warm, as if someone had just lit a small fire inside, and I began taking deep breaths hoping that the smoke filled air would somehow extinguish the sensation.
    Dillon noted me with a knowing smile, reaching inside his pocket and pulling out a pack of gum at precisely the moment my teeth started to grind. Hastily, I stuffed a stick into my mouth and began chewing hard. The next thing I knew a huge yawn, like I had not slept for fifteen days, opened up my mouth and, as I started to stretch, another yawn hit me, and then another and another and another, until I felt a violent urge to visit the gents, which I somehow resisted before it mercifully passed away.
    Like an electric shock, the pill had disconnected me to everything around me and all I could do was stare at my glass until, with a hard jolt, I became acutely aware of the sheer cacophony of noise around me, as if I was able to pick up on any conversation, in any part of the bar, and tune into it.
    I gazed around me at all the guys and gals present and somehow they didn’t seem real at all. I could hear them but they appeared distant and dreamlike. Another urge hit me and this time it was to run my fingers through my hair, which I did for a minute, marvelling at the sensation whilst chewing even harder on my gum.
    I looked up to see Dillon smiling at me and realised that all the time this was happening, I had completely forgotten he was there.
    â€˜What’s up?’ I asked him. ‘I asked you two minutes ago if you wanted a drink and all you did was stare at the glass and then push your hair back. You’ve started early, it hasn’t hit me yet. Also your eyes have gone a bit weird.’
    â€˜Get us a lemonade,’ I urged him, ‘Alright, alright,’ he said, patting me on the arm.
    â€˜I’ll pay, I’ll pay. I don’t mind but I don’t think I can move.’
    â€˜That’s cool, I’ll get them.’
    â€˜You sure, yeah? It’s just that...’
    â€˜I know,’ said Dillon smiling as he went off in search of refreshment.
    As I sat there, from out of nowhere I felt a huge wave sweep up inside my body and literally knock me backwards against the wall.
    I was gulping for breath when Dillon returned with the drinks. ‘I’m getting the rushes,’ he said, sitting down. ‘Jesus, they’re strong.’
    The both of us sat there in complete silence for about five minutes, staring into space, completely removed from all that