Anybody Out There?
Page 96

“I also do cupping,” Gaz said. “Another Chinese remedy. I heat up little cups and suction them to your back. It draws out all kinds of toxins.”
Yes, I knew about that, too. I also knew about how he’d put his flaming cups too close to Rachel and Luke’s window and managed to set their curtains on fire.
“Thanks, Gaz, but—” I indicated Jacqui and Joey. “I can’t concentrate on anything else at the moment.”
Actually, they looked as if they were planning to leave.
They were! They were standing up and Joey was throwing down a couple of twenties and they were “excuse me, excuse me”ing their way out.
“Going home early to have sex, without caring how rude it looks.” Brooke Edison sighed dreamily. “Not even leaving enough money to cover their share of the bill because they’re so in love, they assume the rest of the world is happy to cover them. Which we totally are.”
“It’s nice of them to leave early,” Teenie said, “Because now we can talk about them. So what’s everybody’s take?”
Reactions were mixed. You could tell the second-tier Real Men were confused because Jacqui had no breasts. But at least she was blond.
Almost everyone else, however, was charmed.
“It’s adorable.” Brooke clasped her hands, her eyes ashine. “True love can happen with anyone. Like, who says he has to work on Wall Street! He could be, like, just a plumber, or like a construction worker.” Her gaze fastened on Shake, on his tight, tight jeans and his grand head of hair, and took on a sudden, acquisitive gleam.
74
The arrival of fantastic news!!!
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Re: Neris Hemming
Your phone interview with Neris Hemming is scheduled for 8:30 A.M.. on Wednesday sixth of October. The number to call will be sent to you closer to the date. The cost for Ms. Hemming’s time is $2,500. Please forward your credit-card details. Also note that you must not call the number until 8:30 A.M. and that you must finish exactly at nine.
I rang Mitch to tell him. I was so excited. In just over two weeks’ time I’d be talking to Aidan.
I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t wait.
75
Franklin leaned over my desk, flicked a furtive look at Lauryn, and said, “Anna, we’ve finally got a confirmation date from Devereaux for the Formula Twelve pitch.”
He smiled happily and suddenly, with a cold trickle down my spine, I knew what was going to happen. Even before he spoke the words, I knew exactly what he was going to say. “Wednesday of next week. October sixth. Nine A.M.”
Electric pains shot up and down my legs. Wednesday the sixth of October was the morning of my conversation with Neris Hemming. This was like a cosmic joke.
I couldn’t be at the pitch. I had to tell him. But I was afraid. Say it, go on, say it.
“I’m sorry, Franklin.” My voice sounded shaky. “It won’t be possible for me to be there. I have an appointment.”
His eyes turned to chips of ice. What kind of appointment did I have that could be more important than this?
“It’s, um, medical.”
“So reschedule.” Franklin acted as if the matter was now closed.
I cleared my throat. “It’s urgent.”
He frowned, almost in curiosity. First her husband dies, now she needs urgent medical attention. How much bad luck does this loser attract?
“We need you at this pitch,” Franklin said.
“I can be here by nine-thirty.”
“We need you at this pitch,” Franklin repeated.
“Maybe even nine-fifteen if the traffic is good.” Not a chance.
“I don’t think you’re hearing me. We need you at this pitch.” Then he turned his back on me and walked away.
I couldn’t concentrate on work, so, with trembling hands, I checked my e-mails to see if there was anything nice. Helen had received a death threat.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Death threat
Oh God, loads has happened. This morning, Colin came to my office to bring me to Harry Fear to give him photos of Detta and Racey snuggled up together on couch drinking tea and eating top-notch biscuits.
Next thing, an almighty bang! Gunshot! Eardrum still twanging from it. My window fell in on my desk, glass everyplace. Someone had just tried to shoot me! Bloody nerve!
Colin yelled: Get down. Then legged it out to see what was going on.
But I could hear tires screeching away and he was back in a second.
Him: They’re gone. Looked like some of Racey’s lads.
He knelt down on floor, in the splinters, cradled me to him, and said: It’s okay, baby.
Me (pulling self away. Morto): What the eff are you at?
Him: Comforting you.
Me: Get off. I don’t like that sort of stuff. At all. I don’t need comforting.
Him: Cup of tea, even?
Me: No. No. Nothing.
Jaysus!
Through space where window used to be saw deputation of angry mothers, in leggings and anoraks and ring of fag smoke like that planet, heading down from the flats. Quick off the mark round here.
Chief mother, name of Josetta, said: Ah, Helen, this is a respectable neighborhood.
Me: No, it’s not.
Her: Okay, it’s not. But guns being fired at ten-thirty in the morning? That’s not on.
Me: Sorry. The next time someone tries to kill me I’ll ask them to wait until after lunch.
Her: Do that. Good girl.
They went away.
Me: Janey, I’ve just had an attempt on my life.
Him: Nah. Just a warning shot across the bows.
Me: Well, the next time they’ll kill me.
Him: That’s not how it works. They’ll do something, like, say, kill your dog. There’s a strict protocol to be followed here.
Me: But I don’t have a dog. I hate all living creatures.
Him: Well, maybe they’ll burn out your car—you like your car, don’t you?
Me (nodding): So it’ll be a while before they really try to kill me.
Him: Yeah, you’ve loads of time.
This had gone too far. I rattled off a reply to Helen.
To: [email protected]