The Guy Who Had All The Time In The World (3/8) By Joe Hakim

(1/8), (2/8), (3/8), (4/8), (5/8), (6/8), (7/8), (8/8).

There's a wobbly floorboard in there where he keeps the majority of his drugs. It's one of those 'secrets' that no one's supposed to know about, yet everyone does. I walk about slowly and press down on the each floorboard. When I finally hear the creak, I throw back the rug, and pull the loose section up. I have to roll my sleeve up and root around for a while, but eventually I locate the plastic bag. Fuckin' bingo. It's a good haul. There are two bars of resin, a bag of skunk, a shit load of pills, a bag of coke, a bit of brown and about fifteen hundred quid in twenties. I feel chuffed, elated, like I've just won in the best treasure hunt ever.

After helping myself to Matt's stash, I go downstairs and raid his drinks cabinet. I take two bottles of Smirnoff, a bottle of JD and a bottle of gin, and then I go through his collection of DVDs and PS2 games. The excursion into Matt's cheers me up no end, and not just because of all the drugs; the realm of possibility opens up before me. I leave it for the night and go home, go back to my own flat down Melrose Street, and I'm nearly fuckin' skipping. The whole is my playground and Hull's just the beginning. I'm in my bedroom looking out of the window at the sky again.

It never changes; it never seems to get any lighter or darker, and the scattered, wispy clouds are motionless, suspended like decorations. It seems as though the full sky has been hung up, like a background painting for a film set.

I fall asleep around two in the morning, with the DVD of Dumb and Dumber playing in the background, honestly expecting to be woken at any moment by a wild Matt, whacking me around the head with a cosh, screaming, "Someone fuckin' saw yer gettin' in me house and tekkin' all me shit," but the moment never comes, and thanks to all the dope and diazepam I nicked, I sleep like a baby for the first time since I woke up the morning after the 'event' - whatever it was that wiped everyone off the face of the earth. When I finally wake up and get of bed, I go to the window and open the curtains.

The sky is still the same and the streets are still deserted. I treat myself to a microwave pizza that I stole from the chest freezer in the newsagents, and then I roll a joint and think about the day ahead. It's time to have some fuckin' fun.

I'm sat in my neighbour's car, a really nice little Honda, and it's here that I make my first really disappointing discovery. Well, the first since finding out that everyone in the world has fucked off and left me on me todd. I have the keys, because I broke into his house first, but the engine won't turn over. The electrics work - the lights, the radio, all that shit - but the car doesn't start. After a quick root around I discover that there's no petrol. The tank is completely empty. I check some more of the cars down my street, and with each one it's the same story, no fuckin' petrol.

I take a canister to the petrol station near the roundabout at the bottom of Boothferry Road, but all the pumps are dry. I can't comprehend where or why the petrol has gone, but if I'm honest, the only thing that I'm really gutted about is the fact that I won't get to drive a Porsche or Ferrari. The lack of transport also limits the shopping exploits that I had planned. The station doesn't turn out to be a complete washout though, because I find a selection of frozen pasties and another shed-load of fags. So I can't drive. It's not a major problem, I suppose. It'll probably give me something to do, bring back things I want one bit at a time - shit, I could even take over a flat or house in the town centre.

Continued...Next Page (4/8)

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