Model Guy (20 page)

 
"Perhaps it is but
I think this whole PBC/TV presenter thing is getting on top of you," I snap
back, but it's the last word that pushes it too far: "Literally."

 
She looks at me for a
moment.

 
"I'm going out,"
she says quietly.

 
I watch her go. Then I
put my glass down and go out after her. She is in the bedroom putting on her coat.

 
"I'm sorry,"
I say quietly. She ignores me and opens the cupboard to find her shoes. "I
said I'm sorry."

 
"I heard what you
said." I gently close the wardrobe door. "Excuse me. I'm trying to get
my shoes."

 
"Please don't get
your shoes. Please don't go out." She avoids my eyes. "I'm sorry I said
that about you and Peter." I know I'm making some progress now so I press on.

 
She looks up. "I
don't know why you've got such a thing about him. I've got to do this for my career.
I told you."

 
"Yeah, you said."

 
"Why are you so jealous
of him all the time?"

 
"Because...because
he sees more of you than I do these days."

 
She runs her hand through
my hair.

 
"Oh, Charlie."

 
"I don't want to
lose you."

 
"You're not going
to lose me." She plays with my hair some more and begins to massages my ear
gently. "But don't expect me to give up this part of my life. It's very important.
Don't make me choose between you and my career, it's not fair."

 
"I know."

She takes off her coat again along with the rest of her clothes
and, deciding that dinner can wait, we end up having great 'make up' sex. I watch
us just momentarily in the mirror and think again how lucky I am.

Scarlett offers me a shot of some dark brown liquid when she
gets into the office the next day.

 
"What's this?"
I say, eyeing it with disdain.

 
"It's called maruca.
It's made of peat extract or something."

 
"What does it do?"

 
"Gives you energy,
detoxes and, erm, what else did they say? Oh, yes boosts your melatonin levels.
Makes you feel good."

 
I shrug my shoulders and
knock it back. It's sort of earthy initially but then the aftertaste kicks in -
like farts mixed with rotting rubbish.

 
"Aaargh!" I
gasp, looking round for something to rescue my taste buds with.

 
"Hey, that's my Dr
Pepper" says Zac.

 
I let the sweet, fizzy
liquid drink rinse away the taste of shit and rotting vegetables and then hand the
can back to him. Once I've got over the experience I look up at Scarlett.

 
"Oh my God. How can
you drink that stuff?" I mutter, still swallowing hard.

 
"I don't. I've never
tasted it before; I thought I'd try it out on you first."

 
"Oh, ta, Scarlett."

 
She smiles sweetly and
answers the phone.

 
"2coolt2btrue, can
I help you? Guy? No, he's not in yet, I'm afraid. No, he's not either. Can I take
a message. Okay, all right babe, I'll get one of them to call you. Bye"

 
"Where are they?
It's gone ten," I ask when she's put the phone down.

 
"I dunno, but I'll
get them to report to your study when they get in, shall I?" she says.

 
"All right, I'm just
saying".

"What's this thing down here at the bottom of the screen?"
I ask Zac a bit later. With lightening speed in response to my question he mumbles:

 
"What you talking
about?"

 
"This thing, this
little icon at the bottom right hand on the home page? 'Digitally Enhanced Hyper
Resolution Graphics System'. What the hell does that mean?"

 
"It means shag all
as you Brits would put it."

 
"Nothing? You mean
it doesn't do anything? Why have you put it in there then?"

 
"Cos, it looks cool
man. People think it’s a new bit of kit, something that no one else has."

 
"What? You just made
it up?"

 
"Yup."

 
"I still think it
should be Enhanced Hyper Resolution Digital Graphics System," says Scarlett.
"Rolls off the tongue better."

 
"Well, you're wrong
little lady" says Zac, not bothering to look up at her. "I'll do the hi-tech
stuff and you stick to rolling things off your tongue."

 
Scarlett gives him a sarcastic
smile.

 
"Oh, Zac, I'm sure
you'll be a much nicer, more relaxed person when you finally lose your virginity."

 
Fortunately the phone
rings and I get it. It's someone asking for Guy or Piers again. They're quite insistent
but all I can do is to take a message.

 
"Where are they?
I'm going to ring their mobiles," I tell the others.

 
"Give them a piece
of your mind," says Zac.

 
Just at that moment the
door swings open and Piers sweeps in.

 
"Sorry I'm late everybody
- bit of a night of it last night."

 
"No problem,"
I say. "Quite a few people have been calling for you that's all."

 
"I bet they have.
Well, we've done it!" he announces looking around at us excitedly.

 
"What? You and Guy
last night?" asks Scarlett raising an eyebrow.

 
"No. What?"
says Piers. "No, we've done it - all of you! 2cool! We've reached our two months'
target of half a million hits in just three weeks."

 
"Excellent,"
I tell him. "That's brilliant."

 
"Cool," says
Scarlett. "Too cool in fact."

 
Zac says nothing but since
he wouldn't have had anything pleasant or encouraging to say this is probably a
good thing.

 
"That's fantastic,"
I say again.

 
"Isn't it? Well done
team." The team looks slightly embarrassed at his hearty praise. "Excellent.
Yes, well done. Now I could do with something to bring me back to life after last
night."

 
"Yeah, you look terrible"
says Scarlett, obviously not just being rude on this occasion. "Have you slept
at all?"

 
"No, to be honest
I haven't much," says Piers with a slightly false, hearty laugh. "I'll
go to that place you're always off to along the road, what's it called?"

 
"Wild World,"
I tell him.

 
"That's right, I'll
get a juice or something."

 
"No," says Scarlett,
"get yourself a Maruca - it'll do you a world of good."

"Hey, guess what? We've beaten our target at work,"
I tell Lauren that evening as we snuggle up on the settee after supper. "We
were supposed to take two months to get half a million hits but we've done it in
just three weeks."

 
"That's brilliant
babe," she says, turning her face around in my lap to kiss me.

 
"It is pretty good,
isn't it? All down to the marketing of course."

 
"Of course. You should
make sure you keep all the press cuttings and file them."

 
"That's a good idea.
I think Scarlett or the PRs do it."

 
"No, I mean for your
own file so that you've got something to show future employers."

 
"That's a very good
idea. You're so sensible. Hey, let's go out and celebrate tomorrow night, I'll book
a table somewhere." Lauren doesn't say anything. "What about that new
place down by the river?"

 
"I'm actually seeing
Peter tomorrow night."

 
"Oh, okay,"
I say in a small voice.

 
"Charlie, I'm sorry.
He's been in New York for the last few days and we've got a lot to catch up on."

 
"Sure."

 
"You know this thing
means a lot to me, don't you?" She sits up and looks at me. "I'm bored
with modelling - you've made a successful career move. It's not really fair, is
it, to try and stop me?"

 
"No, 'course not
babe."

 
"Friday night, I
promise. We'll do something really cool."

Chapter Fifteen

By midday the next day neither Piers nor Guy are in and I seem
to be the only one vaguely bothered about it. Neither mobiles are answering this
time either so I decide we'd better find them.

 
"Scarlett. Scarlett."
I try waving at her.

 
"Hang on bud, I'll
send her an email," says Zac, being helpful for once.

 
"Don't worry,"
I tell him, getting up.

 
I tap her on the shoulder
and she jumps.

 
"What, for goodness
sake?" she says taking off her headphones and switching off her Discman.

 
"It was just thinking
it's odd that we haven't seen Piers yet this morning and we haven't seen Guy for
nearly two days."

 
"No, that's true,"
says Scarlett. "Perhaps they're at a meeting. Let me check their diaries."

 
"I think we might
have heard something though don't you?"

 
"Erm, let just me
have a look at what they've got booked in at the moment," murmurs Scarlett,
tapping away and glancing at her screen. "No, you're right there's nothing
here in their diaries, so they've obviously been murdered."

 
"Thanks Scarlett,
very helpful."

 
"Oh, I'm just kidding
don't worry, Charlie. They'll ring in soon I'm sure."

 
"I suppose so but
it just bugs me that they piss off like this. Someone must know where they are -
haven't they got friends or something?"

 
"You've met them,"
says Zac by way of an answer.

 
"They must do,"
says Scarlett. "Let me ring their home numbers."

 
A few moments later she
reports that she got answer machines on both.

 
"Like I said, they'll
be in later, I'm sure," she says, putting back her headphones.

 
I look round at Zac who
is, as usual, nearly horizontal with one leg crossed loosely over the other. He's
wearing a T-shirt that says 'Lesbian in a man's body.' He shrugs his shoulders and
looks back to his screen.

 
I decide to go out and
get a cappuccino.

By mid afternoon, I'm both quietly satisfied that I was right
to worry, unlike the others, but at the same decidedly unnerved. We've all left
more messages for them everywhere we can think of.

 
"Mind you, creative
people are like that," says Scarlett. "When I worked in the music business
people would disappear for days and then just turn up again. They're highly sensitive,
highly strung."

 
"Really? What they
hell had they been doing?"

 
Scarlett thinks about
it.

 
"Drugs usually."

I'm the last to leave the office. I decide to ring my old mate
Ben. We were at college but then he got a sensible job. He's read about the site.

 
"Saw that picture
of you in the paper - you looked a right tosser, if you don't mind me saying,"
he tells me over a beer in a pub in the City where he works.

 
"No, you're right;
I did look like a tosser."

 
"How's it going then
with this thing?"

 
"Really well."
I say wondering whether to be honest. "We've hit our targets for visitors."

 
"What are your margins
like?"

 
"Margins?"

 
He smiles.

 
"Profit margins."

 
"Oh, yeah of course.
Profit margins."

 
He smiles again.

 
"Well, how are they?"

 
"Too early to tell...oh
all right, fuck off smarty pants. I don't know. I don't really have a lot to do
with that."

 
The smile turns more patronising.

 
"Let me get this
straight - you're the marketing director and you don't know much about the profit
margins. "It's early days, too soon to tell."

 
"What about the projections?
I mean the profit projections -"

 
"I know what you
mean. Look, Ben, all right, I don't know but I'm sure they're healthy."

 
"What about the business
plan?"

 
"Bugger the business
plan, I don't know."

 
"OK, just wondered.
You should ask your fellow directors, though. What are their names? Piers and Guy?"

 
"Yeah, you're right,
perhaps I will."

 
Except one slight problem.
I turn the conversation around to him and his new job at the bank.

I get back to the flat at gone ten and Lauren still isn't home
yet from seeing Peter so I make myself some baked beans on toast with extra butter
and tomato ketchup.

I wake up feeling cold and uncomfortable on the settee. There
is something I don't recognise on the telly. The reason I've woken up is that Lauren
has just come in.