Nirvana Bites by Debi Alper Read Free Book Online

own research, which definitely suggested that eco-warriors were not responsible for the attack. Not because they supported the programme’s contents, but because they had no idea it was being made.
    Stan looked puzzled. ‘But…why…?’ he began.
    â€˜Exactly the question we asked ourselves,’ I interjected. ‘Apart from the décor, was anything else damaged?’
    Stan shuffled uncomfortably but said nothing.
    â€˜Look, Stan,’ I insisted, ‘if you don’t tell us everything we can’t possibly help. And besides, you owe me now.’
    Stan glanced at the pile of money in the middle of the room, but wisely didn’t mention it. Instead, he reached over and plucked the remaining seven-eighths of the javelin-sized spliff from my fingers and lit it with his Zippo. Wordlessly, Maggot leaned over and, before he had a chance to take a proper drag, she snatched it from his lips. He shrugged and reached for his packet of Gauloises.
    â€˜Sorry. No smoking,’ I objected.
    He threw his hands into the air. ‘OK. OK,’ he groaned. ‘I’ll tell you. But this stuffs not public, right? Somehow they hacked into the computer system. They wiped out all the material for the coming season’s Vox programmes. Every bit of it. We’re going to have to start showing repeats from next week.’ Vox was the BBC’s flagship documentary series, with a reputation for top-notch research and a willingness to tackle controversial subjects.
    I glanced at Ali, who nodded encouragement at me, with a tiny smile puckering the corners of his lips.
    â€˜Can you tell us the subject matter of the programmes?’ I asked Stan.
    â€˜Sure,’ he replied, pulling over his laptop. Nick’s eyes lit up. He’d brought his own laptop and his fingers were unconsciously caressing the cover. How sweet. Maybe Stan’s laptop could get it on with Nick’s laptop and together they could make adorable little laptop babies.
    â€˜Do you have a printer?’ Stan asked, and then looked round bemused at the sea of smouldering faces. ‘Oh,’ he said, and swivelled the screen to face me.
    I read out the list displayed, while Mags noted it down on the pad.
    *    The Case for Genetic Modification
    *    Deaths of Black Youths in Police Custody
    *    Secret Plans for the Reunification of Ireland
    *    Is the Metropolitan Police Force Riddled With Corruption?
    *    Rehabilitation Programmes for Sex Offenders
    *    The Church and Child Abuse
    *    The Influence of Freemasons in Parliament
    *    Britain – the New Base for International Fascism
    *    Drug Testing in the Third World
    *    The Mafia – Alive and Well and Operating in London
    Phew! Plenty of scope there for people whose interests would be served by a cover-up – and with the power to organise one.
    After an hour of further heavy interrogation, we finally relented. I ran Stan a bath, which Gaia anointed with aromatherapy oils. Once he was steaming nicely, the rest of us allocated tasks and agreed to meet again – same time, same place – the next day. Same crisis too, but with hopefully a bit more of a handle on it. None of us felt quite sure about Stan, but we all found his presence unsettling. On the other hand, I’d never seen the co-op so energised and motivated. Even more than for the annual party.
    And the money was only part of it. I put £100 into the building fund, raising its coffers to the princely sum of £102.32, and gave £50 each to everyone there. That left £100 for me, so I agreed to provide food for any further meetings. Such is the way of Nirvana. As for the wages promised by Stan, I hadn’t seen them yet. But if and when I did, they all knew I’d see them right. That’s something Stan would never understand.
    I even came to the