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hotfooted it up the ridge with Anna in tow. As we walked, I had some explaining to do.
    ROCK : In normal circumstances, what I’m about to do now might appear a bit too much. But as these really are notnormal circumstances, and you have today only encountered me in what are really only abnormal circumstances and in very abnormal locations too, do – if you can – please accept … uh, what I’m about to do.
    Then, having reached the summit of the stifling ridge, I heaved that unrighteous sodden bundle into the middle brazier’s grateful maw and sprang back quickly from the flames. Whoosh went the fire and I spun around astonished at my sudden cleansing festival here atop this improvised heathen Fire Hill. And as that boiling slab of flammable matériels first buckled, then hissed within, I saw on every inch of the horizon great ancient towers magnificent, terrible and everywhere. Anna said nothing to me, but sauntered across to the ridge’s only protected part and sat down overlooking those several score nuraghic towers. I followed and sat down next to her.
    ANNA : I know a little of your story, Rock Section. So I know you were expecting an archaeologist. I saw your fascination at Faraway Field. My sister planned this many months ago and was so upset not to come with you. You know, she really loves your singing voice. She never could have told you that if she’d came. But she’s only in Naples, so I can phone her and bring you any information you require. The monuments that you call the great Doorways are very easy for me to research.
    ROCK : (
Visibly
rallying
) Anna, that’s gonna make my job here so much easier. Mind you, you’ll have your work cut out.
    ANNA : To keep my studies going, I have to ferry cars around for my dad. Really special cars. I’m used to doing two things at once, it’s not so much a compromise. In fact, now that you’re already pretty clean, that’s also good for the compromisebecause some of my dad’s cars are pretty special. Sometimes, I get to travel abroad for his work. Once even two years ago I was at the Newark Car Sales.
    ROCK : Newark? Buying American Cars?
    ANNA : Newark in Nottinghamshire. It’s a very important place for my dad.
    As a Midlands lad born and raised in D. H. Lawrence’s hometown of Eastwood, my early music scenes, my early sex scenes, everything took place around the Nottingham area. So hearing Newark spoken of in such glowing tones, even by a foreigner? A pig’s anus with the runs has better vistas than Newark. As a seventeen-year-old, I’d hitched quite regularly up the A46 to a girlfriend in Lincoln, until my most regular lift – a six-foot-eight supply teacher who existed on family-size Maltesers and six-packs of Kola Bear – had a heart attack on the outskirts of Brough and kaputed his minuscule Honda hatchback against a skip with me in the passenger seat. And with no airbags in cars of the time, it seems probable that only those endless layers of sickly sweet Maltesers family packaging had saved my life. But I wasn’t about to mention to Anna that the supply teacher was the only cunt in the world with a footwell smellier than mine! No, now was a time only for generousness. And as we sat atop the ridge in that great heat surrounded by omnipresent lost ancient lurkers – all of whom would have been desperate even for one moment to take my blessèd place – I thanked the Gods that a warm creature such as Anna had been sent to share my final weird hours in the 21st century.

8. MR WAIT-FOR-IT
    5.30pm, Saturday June 10th, 2006
131 heading south
    Around twenty minutes later, the grand Buick convertible surged uphill atop the concrete gantries of the 131, itself here no more than a treacherous and too-modern causeway cutting through the timeless urban rooftops of once-sleepy Bornova. As we sped through, I looked back on the events of the day and wondered whether or not I should bother calling Mick. With Dean’s corpse still warm and Mick stuck in