I AM ALWAYS AROUND.

'Can't say I've noticed you.' And I would have done.You don't meet many seven-foot, seven-stone peopleevery day, especially ones that walked as though theyhad to think about every muscle movement in advanceand acted as though they were alive and dead at the sametime, like Cliff Richard.

YOUR FRIEND HAS AN INTERESTING CHOICE OFMUSIC.

'Yes. He's a collector, you know.'

I KNOW. COULD YOU PLEASE INTRODUCE ME TOHIM?

'Could I stop you?'

I DOUBT IT.

All right, perhaps four cups. But the lady serving saidthere was hardly anything in it at all except orangesquash and home-made wine, and she looked a dearold soul. Apart from the Wolfman mask, that is.

But I know all the dancers were standing like statuesand the music was just a faint buzz and there were these,all these blue and purple shadows around everything. Imean, drink doesn't do that.

Wayne wasn't affected. He stood with his mouth open,watching us.

'Wayne,' I said, 'this is-'

A FRIEND.

'Whose?' I said, and you could tell I didn't take to theperson, because his flares were huge and he wore one ofthose silver identity bracelets on his wrist, the sort youcould moor a battleship with, and they look so posey; thefact that his wrist was solid bone wasn't doing anythingto help, either. I kept thinking there was a conclusion Iought to be jumping to, but I couldn't quite get arunning start. My head seemed to be full of wool.

EVERYONE'S, he said, SOONER OR LATER. I UNDER-STAND YOU'RE SOMETHING OF A COLLECTOR.

'Well, in a small-' said Wayne.

I GATHER YOU'RE ALMOST AS KEEN AS I AM,WAYNE.

Wayne's face lit up. That was Wayne, all right. I'llswear if you shot him he'd come alive again if it meanta chance to talk about his hobby, sorry, his lifetime'swork.

'Gosh,' he said. 'Are you a collector?'

ABSOLUTELY.