A History of The Big Pink
This is where we ought to have begun, at the start of the saga, not somewhere in between.
Well. The story begins with Levin and Hamish walking into the Big Pink. Walking up the steps, they observe its vivid green windowsills, they note the tasteful pink chosen to complement the green. Levin acknowledges how imposing the façade is. He can make no other immediate comment because time presses. Hamish first and Levin next as they step past the threshold.
Neil Steed is in the kitchen. He comes out, having spotted these two newcomers.
‘Ah!’ he says, raising his hands. ‘Ach, welcomen, welcomen! Das ist mine abode!’
The two young men take a step back, unprepared for this. Hamish is the second to rally.
‘Aye,’ he says, taking a glance round as if sizing up the situation.
Neil pauses and wonders. Something in Hamish’ manner makes Neil want to have a cup of tea. He has a strong desire – in fact, he can’t resist. His fingers twitch. There seems to be some niggling, unworthy question – does he like tea? Not usually. He moves back into the kitchen, feels puzzled, and flicks down the switch of the kettle.
Neil looks down the dark hallway at the two chaps.
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ he asks.
Hamish gives a grunt and a slight, childish smile. He walks down the hall towards Neil. Levin follows, casting an eye up the stairs as he passes and at the closed livingroom door on his right.
Hamish, standing at the kitchen table, and Levin, leaning against the doorframe, wait for the kettle to boil. Neil introduces himself.
‘I am Neil,’ he says, extending his hand.
Levin glances at his hand and shakes it.
‘Hello,’ Levin says in a polite, speaking-to-strangers manner. ‘I’m Levin. This is Hamish.’
Hamish nods and says ‘Hi.’
Neil nods agreeably and observes these two gentlemen, alert to what they might say or do. The kettle boils but Neil, immersed in his observations, waits a second or two, and then snaps to attention.
‘Ah!’ he says, moving round and facing the kettle. He side-shuffles to a cupboard, opens it and takes down two cups. He sneaks a third cup out of someone else’s cupboard.
‘Tea or coffee?’ he says.
Again Neil is momentarily confused, but rallies. Surely nothing is odd about this situation, he feels.
He makes coffee for himself and Levin; tea for Hamish.
‘Milk and no sugar,’ Hamish says to save Neil the effort of asking.
Neil nods and obeys happily. For some reason a great load lifts from him, he feels better. He takes Levin’s cup and he takes Hamish’ cup and passes them to the two gentlemen.
Suddenly he clicks his fingers, as if remembering something.
‘The landlord will be coming round to see you! Of course. If you don’t mind getting rid of those dishes, just put them in the sink, don’t wash them, I need to pop upstairs to my room for a moment.’
In two leaps Neil’s long legs take him from the kitchen to the stairs. He vanishes. Levin walks and Hamish shuffles over to the two sinks. They place the modest stack of dirty dishes where they cannot be seen.
This done, they cast an eye around the kitchen. Levin takes a look through the window at the back yard. There is a mo-ped outside with a plastic sheet over it.
Levin turns to Hamish, who is leaning against the kitchen table in the corner. His two hands are wrapped around his tea and he sips it. Hamish seems to Levin as having entered his element. This immediately reassures Levin that all is well with this house. Levin relaxes. He lifts his own coffee, sips it, and smacks his lips in appreciation. Coffee is good.
Hamish looks at Neil’s cup, forlorn on the countertop, and says ‘He forgot his. What a waste.’
Levin quickly finishes his cup of coffee and begins on Neil’s. ‘Ah, brilliant,’ he says.
They are mooching around the kitchen, talking about maybe checking out the city centre this afternoon. The front door is open. Levin sees the middle-aged man in the pale suit before he sees Levin.
The guy wraps the door sharply three times. He peers down the gloomy hall and spots Hamish and Levin in the kitchen, or perhaps he misses them. He calls down the corridor:
‘Hello! Peter Quinn here!’
Levin asks Hamish in consultation: ‘That the landlord, isn’t it.’
‘Aye,’ says Hamish, and sips his tea, in no rush.
The landlord steps inside as if he owns the place. Just at that moment Neil is coming down the stairs.
‘Ah, Mr Quinn,’ he says.
‘Hello, Niall,’ says Quinn. ‘I’m here to meet two fellows who’re moving in today.’
‘Yep,’ says Neil, and glances down the hallway at Levin and Hamish. ‘They’re just there,’ he says, pointing. Neil walks into the livingroom and closes the door behind him.
Quinn squints down the hallway and walks into the kitchen.
‘Hello lads,’ he says, taking a few sheets from a briefcase-come-bag. It’s the lease. He puts it on the countertop and casts an appraising eye at our two heroes.
‘So you are?’ he asks Levin.
‘Levin McCochall,’ says Levin. He says it politely, as ever, but the slimy cockheadedness of the man makes Levin want to quite dislike him.
‘Levin, McCochall,’ repeats Quinn. He looks at Hamish, who says,
‘Hamish Carlin.’
The slimebag – as Levin identifies him – shakes both their hands and expresses the hope that they’ll both like the house. But his tone does not suggest that he cares. He runs through the things that they can and can’t do, which boil down to keeping the place in good order and paying the rent on time. He pats his pockets and locates a Parker pen.
‘Now this,’ he says, ‘is the lease. You can read it if you want, but just initial each page and sign at the end. That’s for a year’s lease, up on September 2002. Now this is from the first of September,’ he adds, in a tone that is slightly hostile.
‘Yeah,’ they respond.
Levin takes his lease and studies it intensely as if hoping to find some intolerable clause to challenge Quinn on. But the document is unreadable bullshit so he just initials it and signs it and hands it back to the man. Hamish does the same. They also give over £150 for the deposit and £150 for September’s rent. Quinn says he’ll collect October’s on the first of October.
‘Very good,’ says Quinn. ‘You two studying up here?’
‘Yes,’ say Levin and Hamish.
‘Good. All right, that’s that, I’ll see you on the first of October. Any problems you have my number,’ and by that point his voice is trailing off down the stairs.
He didn’t bother to close the door, observes Levin.
Levin walks up the hallway and slams closed the front door and then pauses. He glances up the stairwell, and looks at the closed door of the livingroom. Then he opens it and walks inside.
That’s how the story starts. In the livingroom Levin and Hamish find Neil, who they know, and Emmett, whom they know well, and also James, who they have both met once before. They sit down on one of the sofas and James and Emmett introduce them to the wonderful game of Worms.
The next day occurred the event of two planes being driven into the World Trade Centre. Another plane crashed into the Pentagon.
The day after that there was the first major drinking session of many drinking sessions, although, as time passed and cannabis became the drug of choice for most of the denizens, drinking sessions became marginally less common.