Public School

In a bedroom. It resembles one at Uplands Road. I have a lot of cocaine that I am trying to hide. I do a small line.

Walking through the grounds of a boarding school. The old buildings look English, but a sign over one of them says "Candy" so I assume I am in America. I arrive at a common room where pupils are sitting around talking. I don't recognize them but am comfortable with them. Some are wearing formal clothes, dark suits, ties. Others are dressed casually. The clothes represent a distinction in status. My own clothes rank me above average but not at the top of the class structure. In my best R.P. accent I talk to a student in one of the finest suits. I ask: "How do you always know what to wear?" "They hammer it into you," he replies.

In a bedroom at the school that I share with another pupil. He tells me about his grandmother who tried to shoot herself in the head, failed, and was subsequently arrested and sentenced to death. As he tells me the story I realize I already know the ending. His grandmother dies by setting fire to herself in public. I wake up on the floor between my bed and that of my room-mate and realize I have been dreaming. I am tangled up in the blanket from his bed which is covered in fluorescent green dots. I try to untangle myself and my room-mate wakes up, alarmed by the tugging at his blanket. I tell him I fell out of bed.

In the presence of the Headmistress. I am having a fragmented conversation with the other pupils about how we can "throw a spanner in the works and make the wheels fall off the system."

Trying to fit a screw in a bicycle frame. The thread is damaged. As the Headmistress oversees the operation she becomes increasingly anxious.