Unfinished Sympathy

This is my problem: I don’t always finish what I’ve started.  Finishing isn’t what I enjoy.  I’m all about the burst of excitement, the possibilities, the originality at the start of a project.  Sure, I’ve seen many projects – personal and professional – through to the end.  But it’s the beginning, the creative spark of life in the darkness of the void, that I’m all about.

When my projects go unfinished, they linger in the limbo of my hard drive.  I’ve been known to pick them up again, drag them further towards completeness.  But I’ve also been known to drop them and never return.  They may have been a beautiful spark at the beginning, but now they are nothing.  Untouched, unseen, unloved.  Unfinished.

The Unfinished Project is a project I know I will never finish, because as long as I live I will be starting new works, to see where they take me.  And I will be casting aside those works I lose interest in. But I will also be placing my unfinished works – some old, some new – on this website. Here at TheUnfinishedProject.co.uk is where I will be exposing my unfinished work to the world.  Nothing here is complete.  Nothing here is ready to be shown to anyone.  But now it is here, now it is ‘out there’.

I want to hear what you think.  If you like anything I have done.  If you think I should take anything that I place on this site further.  If you have any ideas on how anything on this site could be developed.  These projects are not set in stone – they are unfinished.  If there are finishers in the world, people who get they same joy and satisfaction from completeness and endings that I get from possibilities and beginnings, please get in touch – I’m sure we can collaborate.

Unless otherwise stated, the textual content of this website – including any projects that I include the textual content of – is released under a Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported Licence.  Any software I distribute which I have written will unless otherwise stated be released under a GPL 3 licence (but that should also be included with the code).  If in doubt – or if you would like be to licence my work differently, please get in touch.  I often use photos taken from other places on the web to illustrate my articles.  I don’t own them and can’t license them – where possible they should be appropriately attributed.

Creative Commons License
The Unfinished Project by Ben Chalmers is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Oeufs002bIt was a while ago. I had noticed that different trends seemed to do the rounds in teen fiction – there had been the Harry Potter reinvention of the boarding school novel, and before that there had been a trend for horror, best characterised by the Goosebumps series.  At about that time, something about vampires was beginning to take off, and I wondered what was going to be next.  Now, in those days (which seem dim and distant now) Livejournal was a thing that mattered and on LiveJournal there were communities devoted to DragonKin and OtherKin (look it up – I’m sure its still going on somewhere).  And – despite the fact this wasn’t my particular interest ( I’ve always been more the sort of guy who likes to kill dragons with the aid of polyhedral dice ) –  this inspired me.  Dragons hadn’t been in vogue for a while.  And a character who was gradually discovering that she was a dragon, and right in the middle of the political games played by the other very real dragons seemed like quite a fun idea.

And thats about as far as I got.  The idea swims around in my head, and details crystallise over time, so this is what I’ve learned

The main character – who has most commonly been called Tia (Her full name has been Tia Matthews – based mainly on the possibility that the Babylonian chaos monster Tiamat was a dragon – which seems debatable.   Anyway, the things we know about Tia is that she is an orphan (or maybe has a single mother), does not like school, may well be a shoplifter, but in any event is certainly a troubled teen.  Tia has vague memories of a golden period in her childhood when an elderly neighbour would look after her and tell her fantasy stories.

There are then two supporting characters:  A female engineer / girl-geek type and a male roleplayer/thesp.  They don’t have fixed names in my head yet.  In short the roleplayer/thesp is there to provide access to knowledge about mythology and history, while the engineer is there to find out information in the ‘real’ world (and to provide support to the idea that school is cool – to counter the rebellious ways of Tia)

Finally, a later addition to the mythos is a more mysterious figure.  I have variously called him Bran and Mihai.  In any event, Mihai (lets call him that for now) is this good looking guy who really ought to be the object of Tia’s affections, but there is something special about him – everything seems to imply that he is a vampire.  He is clearly from Romania, he doesn’t like going out in the sun, and, when its looked into, he is quite clearly a direct descendant of Vlad the Impaler.  The idea was to play up the book to look like it was going to be another vampire romance, then turn the tables.  You see Mihai is actually a member of the Order of The Dragon (which is where the Drac in Dracula comes from – Vlad’s dad was initiated into the Order of the Dragon), and the conceit is that the Order of the Dragon was actually a secret society dedicated to keeping dragons under control (Either by killing them or ensuring they remain hidden).  Mihai is really here to locate and ‘contain’ the dragon that is supposedly being raised in this locality (though he doesn’t know who it is)

The story begins with Tia skipping school and getting caught up with some people who seem to be egg thieves.  Tia realises that stealing eggs is a bad thing and decides she want to stop them.  What Tia doesn’t realise is that these guys are working for a dragon and that the ‘egg’ they are hunting is actually a  dragon in its larval form… The larval form being, well, Tia.  However, in a slightly ham fisted puberty metaphor, the teenaged Tia is also gradually discovering she has unusual powers.  SInce Egg is designed to be a series, in this book she would only have the ability to be super fast fit and strong, especially when cornered – and to breath fire right at the end in a particularly dramatic scene.  Later books would introduce flying and shape shifting.  The heart of the idea is that dragons reproduce by shapeshifting to be human, impregnating human women, then sodding off.  The resulting child is a larval dragon.  Since there are only a few dragons, dragons are more or less immortal (unless killed) and most dragons like it that way, they tend to be keen to get rid of the larval dragons early on – they just have a lot of trouble identifying them.

So – there we have it as it stands.  There isn’t much structure yet, and in many ways it feels like a half-hearted rip off of Buffy The Vampire Slayer (though actually Tia is more clearly ripped off of Suze from Meg Cabot’s 1-800-Missing books in my head).  To move this idea forwards what I really need to do is come up with a plot structure, then use that to break the story down into actions.

Nothing is ever totally finished.

There might be the point you stop working on something.  There might be the point you reach some arbitrary goal you have set (be it 50000 words, or a ten book publishing contract).  But nothing is complete.  There is always more that could be done.

So everyone, all the time, leave things unfinished.

But I think there is more to unfinishing than that.  The reasons I came up with this web site, and my project to place my unfinished projects in public are not so much about the act of not finishing as they are about me.

The first reason I have begun unfinishing is that I think value in anything you do, or think, only comes when that idea is shared.  I’ve written about it before.  By publishing, by making it available, I am adding some value (even if all I am adding is examples of how not to write)

The second reason I have begun unfinishing is that unfinishing allows you to start.  I’ve had many ideas, too many.  Most I have left to drift away because I don’t want to make a start, because I know I won’t follow them through to the end, or I know I’ll find something more interesting.  If you’re set on finishing, then projects like that never get off the drawing board – if they even make it that far, because in a world where finishing is your goal, the unfinished work is failure.  But in unfinishing, the moment you have made anything public, you have improved the world a little.  You have shared some of yourself.

And in the same vein, unfinishing is about choice.  If you start without the intention to finish, then there is never a feeling you need to continue if something better comes along.  At any moment you are free to choose, to follow your muse.  To pick off where you left off yesterday, last month or last year, or to start on a crisp new sheet of paper.

A forth reason is that I’m increasingly taking the view that, in life, your job is not to become mediocre at everything, but rather to excel at those things you are gifted in.  Too often we look at those things we struggle with as necessary evils that must be endured so we can survive life as it should be.  But we define life as it should be. And often we have inherited the should from other people, other times and other situations.  I’m trying to embrace who I am, not who I once believed I ought to be.  And there are things I don’t enjoy finishing.  There are books I’ve left half unread, films I left half unwatched, and thoughts I’ve yet to finish thinking all the way through.  I could struggle against this.l  I could become a completist, completing everything even if it pains me.  I could make my work more perfect, more closely checked, smoothing every rough edge until my hands bleed.  Or I could embrace me. I could accept that I won’t finish everything.  And I could try – however vaguely – to turn it into a virtue.

Finally an unfinished state is about the state itself, not about the product.  When you plan on finishing, you are performing the work to get to that point of finality.  You are hitting your head against a wall for the sense of relief and joy when the wall finally cracks, crumbles and falls down.  But when you are unfinishing you are doing the work for the works sake.  You are running because you like the feel of the wind in your hair, not because you want the medal at the end of the track.  Unfinishing is about joy now, not potential joy tomorrow.

Up until this point, the things I have published here have reached some form of completeness – there are two NaNoWriMo winners and something I haven’t worked on for so long that I’m unlikely to revisit it.  But I have projects that have been ongoing in my head, in moleskines, in scribbles on paper littered on my desk, in google docs and in random text files over any number of random computers, and going forward it will not only be the incomplete but abandoned, but also the incomplete and ongoing that I post here.

Next up – unless I unfinish this commitment – Egg an idea for a teenage fantasy novel which has been with me for five or so years at least.

 

mills-and-boonContinuing with my ventures into writing with NaNoWriMo, another of my attempts took me into a more adult direction.  Back in the days before the number of shades of gray had been tabulated and calculated, I attempted my hand at what was then the height of acceptable yet steamy fiction: something Mills and Boony.  The results are a little hit and miss.  There are parts that, on rereading, I love.  Parts which certainly fit exactly the vibe Mills and Boon go for.  But then there is also clunkiness, a back plot which is too complicated and not well explained, and probably too much talking about computers (although talking about computers turns out to be a very important symbol for the heroine’s growth into self-reliance).  Actually, the thing I like most is the structure, which seems to work remarkably well – more or less everything ties together quite tightly.  Especially considering this is a first draft.

I recall the sex scenes being cringeworthy, but they don’t seem quite as bad on rereading.  Though the locations are… interesting choices. There is certainly a lack of descriptive detail which needs to be addressed were I to try to do anything more with this.  Also, it is slightly too short as it stands.

Again, the spelling, typing, and so forth are terrible.  This was NaNoWriMo, so it was written with more concern for getting words onto the page, than for ensuring the words were actually meaningful.  Or even english.

The Internet Billionaire’s Web of Lies

 

Jo threw the mouse down in disgust.  This computer could tell she was in a hurry, and just wanted to make her life difficult.  As a marketing executive for Cognitex – one of the worlds hottest new technology corportations, jo knew that she ought to be using computers to get her work done, but really they were cazy – unstable, unfriendly and uncaring.  And at their least chritable when she had a deadline to meet.

 

And today’s deadline wasn’t just a relase milestone.  Todays milestone was a meeting with Leanna Cavel.  Leanna Cavel, who looked less like a Marketing manager and more like a catwalk model.  Leanna Cavel who controlled every inch of Cognitex’s marketing deparetment, who decided who to fire, who to hire, and who to put on the fast track to promotion… and Leanna Cavel, the woman, who, according to rumours that occasionally surfaced not just in the Cognitex breakrooms, but also in the national and international press was currently stepping out with Witicker Richmond Holmes – cognitext’s founder and ultra rich owner.

 

And yesterday evening, Leanna had emailed Jo telling her she wanted to see her and discuss her work on the marketing campaigh for Cognitex’s next project.  Jo had never had more than a few fleeting words with Leanna, but clearly some f her work had made an impression, and now she was getting a one-to one meeting to discuss her work and her future.  Jo knew all she had to do was make a good impression. It was her chance for her big break, and all she had to do was show Leanna that her work was top class.  Which meant convincing the computer to play ball.  She hit the keyboard in frustration, the screen flickered, and went black.  Jos heart stopped. then the screen returned to life and, the laser printer next to her began playing a satisfying hum, as page after page began to print out.

 

Jo examined the pages.  They were far from perfect – instead of spending her time tidying them up, she had been trying to coax the computer into submission, but the crux of the idea was there, and Jo knew that if she could get Leanna to see it she would be able to show her that she was destined for bigger and better things within Cognitex.  Perhaps even get to got to one of the senior staff meetings and meet Wittiker Holmes… though that was just a fantasty -noone ever met Wittiker Holmes – aside from Leanna of course – as well as being a multi-billionaire and a technical genius, Witticker Holmes was known for being a recluse – avoiding the spotlight… for all the newspapers printed trashy but tittleating tales of his love life, even the top papparatzi at stopped trying to snap a photo of him.

 

BEEP BEEP BEEP.

 

Jo’s computer started flashing up a meeting warning, she was Due to see Leanna in five minutes.  But thee beeps were too loud, and rigning not just to Jo, but over her wooden desk and throughout the open plan office.  While Jo fumbled at the computer trying to figure out how to make it  stop she could feel the eyes of everyone turn on her, and watch her humliation .

 

BEEEEP BEEEP BEEEEEP

 

the beeps were getting louder and more insistatant.  Jo hit the eneter key againa and again

 

“Stop beeping you bloody…”

 

“Problems Jo”

 

The voice was quiet, measured calm.  Jo shrivelled up into a ball as Leanna reached over her shoulder to the keyboard, hit a button and the racket stopped.

 

“now”, leanna continued, “I belive we have a meeting.  If you would like to follow me”.

 

Leanna strode through th eoffice, Jo trying to keep up a few paces behind until they reached a quiet meeting room.

 

“If you would like to step inside, I’ll be with you in a second”

 

Jo stepped through the door, and sat down at the table.  Mary-anne for HR was sitiing there.  This had to be better news than Jo had expected.  HR’s presence surely meant she was getting a promotion.  She looked out of the door at Leanna who was typing into her blackberry quickly, skillfully managing not to damage her long, perfectly manicured nails, then back to Mary-anne, who siled back at her maternally.

 

“Before we begin” leanna said,sliding through the meeting room door and gliding over to the table.  “I asked you to bring some of your recent work here for discussion”

 

Jo pulled out her portfolio and laid the papers down for leanna to see

 

“ah.  paper?” leanna asked.  She looked pointedly at the projector hanging from the ceiling “Most people are using powerpoint these days, still…@ she picked up the pages and thumbed throguh them

 

“the reason we have asked to to come here is that Cognitex are looking to make some changes to our marketing department”

 

This was it.

 

“and those changes are going to affect you more than most.  ‘ve been paying close attention to your work, and I think that, more than naything else has led me to decide that we we would do better if you were not in your present role”

 

Absolutely.  They would do better promoting Jo to a lead position

 

“so” leanna continued, we are terminating your position with effect today.  Security are cleaning your desk, and you’ll be escorted to the lobby where you can pick up your posesions”

 

“But.. butt” Jo didn’t know what to say

 

“The decisio has already been made.  I could explain exactly what factors influeced it, but I’m not cruel”.  Jo could swear she saw leanna’s perfectly beautiful face contort to hide a smile at that last remark.

 

Jo looked about the room in astonishment.  Otside she could see one of the security guys fromt he front desk alking towards the office.  Jo looked at Marry-ann, who tried to hold onto her smile, but in Mary-anne’s eyes she saw only guilt and a little  spark of sorrow.  Jo reached over her desk to take her papers, but Leanna held them tightly, then sgtrode towards the door and held it open.

 

“Security will see you out” she repeated.

 

Jo breathed deeply, and tried to hold it all together as she staggered through the door.  She avoided eye contact as she left the office and wandered through the increasingly alien feeling  impersonal grey hallyway.  She Looked at the abstract paintings on the wall and the press cuttings announcing each success in Cognitec’s history.  Each new product.  where once Jo would have taken pride in playing a part in the next chapter of the Cognitec story, now she felt only betrayal, loss and emptyness.  She was handed a box containing her belogings – one cardboard box, half empty.  Whas that all her time here had meant, was that all she had achieved/  Jo staggered out into the bright daylight outside the offices.  Even London seemed strange.  So bright in the middle of the day it made her blink, yet everybody knew why they were there and Jo, well Jo wasjust standing there, not knowing what her purpose was, not knowing what she was part of, or what she was going to do next.  Jo walked across the courtyard which seperated the cognitex buildig from another three tall, metal and glass office blocks and satdown on the fountain at the centre.  she placed her box down beside her and began to look through to see what remained of her life.  But before she had picked out the first of the scrappy remnants of the past twleve months, all she could see were the blurs of her tears.  Jo wept.

 

***

 

 Jo didn’t know how long she had sat by the fountain.  Time was something that happed at work – there was a time you arrive, a time you eat lunch, a time you leave.  Without the schedule, there was nothing, just emptyness, no structure nothing.  Jo also din’t know how long he had been sitting next to her.  It was only when he spoke that she was aware of anybodies presence in the courtyard

 

“I wonder if I…”

 

Jo threw herself back with a start, and almost oppled backward into the the cirular refelcting pool beneath the fountain.  It was only by grabbing onto his outreached hand that she caught her balance

 

“I’m very sorry if I startled you”

 

Jo and looked up at him.  He had dark hair, neatly combednand styled, and soft skin.  But in his eyes there was a toughness and strength.  It was as if he was looking not just at her, but into her.  Questinoing her.  Her right to be there, ther right to exist.  Deep questions, difficult questions, yet questins that showed he recognised she did exist… his eyes excited her.  Jo went to wipe the tears from her eyes, and found that he was still holding her hand.  Firmly, but carefully.  he released his grip and handed her a crisp white handekerchief.

 

Jo dabbed at her eyes, feeling that they were sore, and knowing that they must be red and ugly.

 

“I realise we havn’t met, but It seems there might be somethign troubling you, and I wondered if I could help?”

 

Jo stayed silent

 

“well.  Don’t say I didn’t try.  You can keep the handkerchief”  he turned to stand up

 

“its… its..”  jo struggled to speek.  The brown eyed man sat back down and turned his face back to lookingdeeply into Jo’s eyes

 

“I don’t know who I am any more”

 

“I can see how that might be a problem.  Here, let me help  People call be Rick, and you?”

 

“I’m Jo.  Jo Lewis.  I work over there”

 

Jo pointed at the Cognitex building, before correcting herself

 

“at least I did.”

 

“Yes” Rick gazed over to the box on her left “I wondered if that might be the case”

 

“and now.  Now I havn’t got anything”

 

“I can hardly believe thats true.  You must have been capable enough to have been hired there”

 

“well, maybe but…”

 

“and I’m sure you’ll be able to pull yourself together and go out and fins yourself something else to do”

 

“No.”

 

“No?”, the skin between Ricks eyes crinkled as he looked at her questioningly

 

“It took me forever to find this job, and now I’m back where I started, plus I have to tell my next employer that cognitext sacked me.”

 

“You do?”

 

“And if I’m not good enough for Cognitex, who am I good enough for?”

 

“You tell me”

 

“noone.  I’m useless.  Whats the point in anything?”

 

“No.  You tell me what you do”

 

“Marketing.  I was a junior member of the marketing team.”

 

“You were?”  Rick sounded genuinely surprised

 

“Yes I was.  and now I’m not”

 

“but you know about marketing”

 

“I thought I was fairly good.  but now… who’s going to want a marketer who can’t evn market herself”

 

“You don’t think you can market yourself?”

 

“I don’t think anybody could – or would want to sell me right now”

 

“But if you were good”

 

“Frankly its all down to Cognitex”

 

“Cognitex?”

 

“They can make or break people.  Look at them, some people become stars, and other, like me, get spat out onto the pavement”

 

“Apparently they do”

 

“And I’m here sitting on the floor while Leanna Clevis is reaching for the stars”

 

“So this is Leanna Celvis’s decision, you say?”

 

“Well yes… but she in tight with Witticker Holmes.  And if shes doing anything, its going to be with his sayso”

 

“So you blame Witticker Holme for this”

 

“Absolutely.  He’s just prepared to spit out anybody who doesn’t match his way of working.  He doesn’t look for talent and doesn’t care about what happenes and what people think about the people he lets go”

 

“He sounds like quite the bastard”

 

“Frankly, if he can put up with the she-bith Leanna Clovis for 10 seconds, he must be the biggest basterd the world has ever known”

 

“You know, you’re rather convincing.  Perhaps I can offer some advice”

 

“I didn’t ask for your help”

 

“no but you’ve been talking to me.  And I meant that as a compliment.”

 

“I don’t need your compliments either”

 

“fine then.  but I think you do.  Just look at yourself, you’re worrying that noone will employ you, but ddep down, you’re assumign that to be valuable someone has to”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Your self image doesn’t allow you to consider yourself worth anything if other people don’t value you first”

 

“You have no right to say these things, you’ve only just met me”

 

“Hah!  I have every right.  Yo’re obviously a talented girl, yet you’re not prepared to believe in yourself.  If you want my advice, stop caring what anyone things, and work for yourself, get paid for what you do;  Go it alone”

 

“but I don’t know anything about workign alone.  And I’d be crap”

 

“noone knows anythign at first, but bluffing is how they make it, ho they learn.  And you’ll only be crap if you keep thinking that way”

 

“I don’t think I could face it”

 

“Maybe thats true.  And thats a shame.  I think there is a spark in you, and I’ve got a friend who is starting a company… we’re not talkign about Cognitex, but seriosuly, if you don’t want to stand on your own two feet yet, then you might as well watch someone who is giving it a go.  I’ve got his card here, give him a call and see if he’s looking for someone like you”

 

Rick reached into his pocket and fumbled through a set of business cards

 

he handed one to Jo “Just don’t tell him I recommended you”

 

Jo knew why.  Rick was trying to be nice, but he didn’t care really – and he didn’t want his name attached to someone as hopeless as her.  She slipped the card into her box of momentos , mumbled a half-hearted thankyou and began to walk towards the tube station.

 

***

 

Two weeks and nothing.  Jo picked up the newspaper and began another trawl through the situations vacant.  Already there were items circles, double circled and crossed out.  It was taking longer to face the messages on her answerphone, each one a potential success, but, on listening to it a greater and greater dissapointment.  Around her her flat was a mess – newspapers thrown towards, but missing the bin.  Cloths unwashed or unironed stewn over chairs, desks and the floor.  Chinese food trays and the occasional empty wine bottle.  And in the middle of it all, her box of posesions from Cognitex.  Still unopened, still unsorted.

 

It was time for a change.  This couldn’t last any longer.  Jo walked over to the box, and eyed it.  Brown cardbaord with a loose fitting lid – the sort of box she had used to file her artwork and papers while in the office, now holding nicknacks and personal posessions.  Got to start somewhere; Jo threw off the lid and set about the contents

 

Stapler.  Sellotape. The Good Luck bear aunt sally had bought her on her first day.  A couple of jotter pads.  A coffee mug (unwashed).  And a business card.  A card that had never been on her desk.  A card she had never seen before.  The card that jerk Rick handed her at the fountain.  Jo threw it into the pile on her desk.  The she paused, and walked over, picked it up and examined it. Ecocentric.  CEO Gavin Douglas.  And a phone number.  Ecocentric.  Jo hgadn’t heard of them.  They wern’t in the paper – could they possibly need someone for their marketing department.  Jo looked at the mess, looked at the card. It was either this, or tidying.  Jo picked up the phone and dialled.

 

“Erm, Hi.  Yeah,  its gav here”

 

“Hello.  Is that Ecocentric”

 

“Well, um, yes I… Gavin Douglass, how can I help?”

 

“Gavin Douglas, CEO?”

 

“Do I know you?”

 

“I don’t think so”

 

“Do you know me?”

 

“Not as far as I know”

 

“Oh.  Right.”

 

silence.  uncomfortable.  but Jo was speaking to the CEO.  Which could be good, possibly, but more likely meant it was a two bit operation with little chance for promotion.  If she was hired.  If there was even a role to hire her for.  Jo was getting ahead of herself.

 

“I was told you had a marketing position open”

 

“Ah” Gavin paused again “well… we havn’t really advertised anything.  We’re quite new -  a startup of sorts.  But we’re looking for help.  Could do with a hand oin the marketing tiller, so to speak.”

 

“So, how could I appy for the role”

 

“Apply?  yes well, when are you free.  Could you pop into the office this afternoon?”

 

Yes.  Of course she could.  God yes.  anything to get her out of the house.  “I… I might be able to shuffle a few things around in my diary.  Is two thirty good”

 

“um.  Why not.  We’re on Fortesque square”

 

Fuck.  Fortesqueue square

 

“Near Cognitex?”

 

“um,  just across the way.  Not that we’re anythign like the size of Cognitex.  Or well, anything to do with cognitex at all really.  You know cognitex”

 

“I used to work there.  I can tell you lots about my marketing experience with Cognitex and other companies… perhaps I can show you my portfolio…”

 

“Um.  Yes.  This afternoot.  Two right?”

 

“Two thirty”

 

“Even better”

 

“So.  Do you know WItticker Richmond Holmes”

 

“Cognitex’s founder?” A stupid question.  How many Witticker Richmond Holmes did she thing there would be in the phone book?

 

“Yup.  Smart bloke I hear”

 

“So do I.  But I’ve never met him.  He keeps himself to himself”  then Jo thought of Leanna “and an intimate circle of friends”

 

“righto.  This afternoon”

 

Good grief, Jo thought, what was she letting herself in for?.

 

***

 

Frotesque Square.  Just the thought of it brought back memories of walking in that morning though the busy bustle of 8am commuters arriving at work with high hopes of career success just around the corner; strong confident strides, looking particularly good in a new pari of shoes that not only looked fantastic, but had actually been comfortable all the way in, and stumbling out later acorss the baran alien terrain, sitting down at the fountain and crying… or sevela hours later lugging her box across towards the ube station, and snapping the heal of  one she in the metal drainage grid by the station entrance.  And now here it was again.  Another signpost on lifes highway.  She looked aorund at the buildings “Cognitex”  “Lifelight Insurance” “Medicra” “Samsonian”.  No sign of Ecocentric.  She wandered up to each bulding in turn, looking on the nameplates by the lobby, eventually, she found it.  Ecocentric.  A printed sign underneat 8 brass plaques. “Econcentric.  Floor 8, room 24b”

 

Jo turned to the doorman

 

“Is this Ecocentic” she held out Gavin’s business card

 

“I think so, madam.  Floor 8.  To tell you the truth, I think you’re the first person who has ever come here visiting them”

 

“So they’re not very big”

 

“I um” jo turned with a start.  The doorman hadn’t answered her, but a man behind

 

“I think we will, err, be getting a little bigger soon.  Soonish, anyway”

 

Jo turened

 

“Um Hi.  I’m Gav.  Gavin Douglass.  I assume you’re jo?”

 

Jo thew her hand forward for Gavinto shake.  Gavin looked at it briefly and seemed to ponder a moment before smiling and grasping it

 

“Right.  We’ll we’re up on the 8trh floor.  Its a bit of a way.  Good view though.”

 

He released Jo’s hand and led her to the lifts.

 

***

 

The office was barren.  Bigger than Jo expected, but empty.  On one wall a water cooler gurgled, and and the other side some particion walls had been erected to make up a few offices.  In between was empty space, just two desks, and two chairs.  The lights flickered on and off.

 

“Grab a pew” gavin offered.  He looked up at the lights “teething troubles” he said, “having a spot of bother with the power.  Sure it’ll all be sorted soon”.  He smiled a wide, welcoming, slightly hopeful grim. His floppy air bounced over his face.  Jo was relieved that he was about as intimidating in person as he was on the phone – that is to say, as intimidating as a puppy.  His wide blue eyes looked more like they were waiting for Jo to thow him a ball than answer interview questions.

 

“So you used to work at Cognitex?”

 

“I did yes”

 

“You’re handy with the computers then?”

 

Jo paused.  She remembered Leanna’s distain at he printed notes and inability to use powerpoiunt.  She remembered the computer beeping away across the office.

 

“Of course you are.  Thats going to be handy.  You see we’re sort of a technology company.  Green computers, paperless office, saving the trees, that sort of thing.  Do you think you could sell that?”

 

“well.  If I could tell you about some of my previous experience”

 

“You could.  But that was selling someone else right?  Tell me about us”

 

“well.  To tell you the truth I’ve never heard of Ecocentric.  You’re small.  You office is uninspring.  Even your name palte is printed on paper”

 

Gavin’s face fell.  If Gavin was a puppy, now Jo was kicking him.

 

“but that could all work to your advantage.  If you don’t need paper, you don’t need an office, right?  You’re about the work, about saving trees.  And it wwould be as easy to work from the amazon as it would from Fortesque square”

 

Gavin nodded.  And smiled.  He shook his head and hair flopped out of his eyes

 

“I think you’ve got something.  I like you, um, Jo.  How soon can you start”

 

Jo looked at her watch “now?”

 

“um.  Sure.  Let me get you a coffee.  How did I do?”

 

“What”

 

“well, I havn’t really done much of this interviewing lark.”

 

“You were great”

 

“Superb then.  Look our techy guy doesn’t really do daytime much – he’s a bit of a night owl, but he’ll set your computer up.  If you need anythign from him, just email.  Once you’ve got your computer that is.”

 

***

 

Witticker Richmond Holmes sat in his plushly appointed office and fumed.  The telephone was on the floor where he had thrown it and his keyboard was thrown aside.  Lawyers.  Why did they always have to be lawyers.  He hated people.  They were so complex.  Women doubly so. Back in the day, back when he started Cognitex people wern’t involed.  It was computers and him.  Pure streams of logic and thought.  One thing following another.  Perfect harmony of man and machine.  He was able to create amazing things – but soon he started selling those things to people – then he had to employ other people and before long his job was all about the people and nothing about the technology.

 

So he had moved over business.  Just as numbers could be strung together to create software, they could be summed together on spreadsheets, graphed and calculated to lead him to mawke decisions.  Witticker took the company from a one man band to a multibillion listed on the worlds financial exchanges.  He turned in his t-shirts and jeans for armani and rolex.  He even allowed his PR people to convince him to cut his hair.  And once or twice he dipped his foot into socialising.

 

But that wasn’t witticker.

 

Sure, there was probably a logoic.  Game thoery or economics perhaps, that underlied how people mingled at a party.  What made one person an alpha and others mindless groupies.  People had called witticker an alpha male, but he didn’t accept that role happily.  He didn’t want to be classified and pulled into their games.  He had been bitten.  And he had let himself be conned.  Witticker could stand to lose a fotune – he had several – but he couldn’t stantd to be beaten.  As a strategist, Witticker knoew he was best of on home territory.  He wanted to fight in his own world – the one he controlled with perfect precision.  Witticker withdrew from the parties and balls back to the safety of his office and penthouse.

 

Other people could manage people.  he just had to manage stategy, and let them get on with what they were doing.

 

And for a time it was good.  Witticker got on with things, and Cognitex jumped from success to success.  But one success was much like another to Witticker.  There come times when success doesn’t matter anymore.  When another million in your back account is small change.  They say you can’t buy happiness, Witticker mused, and they are right – or at least, even with his vast wealth he had failed to find trhe right dealer.  But you can easily buy comfort.  But once you have all the comforts you need, what use is anything more?

 

Witticker had mulled this over for a while.  And he had had the idea.

 

And now the lawyers were trying to ruin it.  Had his mistakes in the past come back to haunt him.  To try once more to break him?

 

Witticker reflected about how little he knew about the world outside of the office.  The world beyond financials, newspapers and reuters.  The girl at the fountain – she had said he was a monster.  Heartless and cold.  Was that really how people perceived him these days.  Witticker knew, logically, that people who didn’t play social games were villified.  He knew that the papers ocassionally compared him to Howard Hughes.  But people.  Real people.  Beautiful people, like the girl by the fountain.  Is that really what they thought of him?

 

Witticker picked up the phone

 

“Gav?”

 

“Rick?”

 

“Hows it going?  I’m having a hell of a day”

 

“In a word, its, um, well its bloody fantastic”

 

“you have good news?  i could do with that.  Get over here Gav, and grab something to drink.  I could do with being cheered up”

 

***

 

Witticker heard the curfuffle outside the door to his office.  His PA was saying something firmly, Tracy was it, Stacey, he could never remember.  They never lasted long enough, and they were all interchangeable.  Pretty faces with nothing more than a filofax for a mind.  About as creative as a ham sandwich.  Witticker walked over to the door, edged it open and looked out

 

“oh, Mr Holmes.  I’m sorry” Stacey/Tracey was standing between Witticker and Gav, who she was gently trying to turn away from the office

 

“No need to appologise” and he mumbled a name.  Halfway between stacey and tracey, stracey.  He hoped she wouldn’t mind

 

“That’s ellie, Mr Holmes.  I’m afraid I’ve asked this gentleman to leave”

 

“Let Gav in.  always let Gav in.  I owe this man my life – and my sanity.”

 

“And, um, more importantly” Gav said “I owe him a drink”

 

“Get in here, Gav.  Stra–Ellie?  Hold my calls”

 

“Yes Mr Holmes”

 

Gav eyed the sign on the door “Witticker Richmond Holmes II, CEO Cognitex.  Whatever happened to Rick?”

 

“Witticker was my Dad.  But its what the world calls me.  I’m only Rick to my friends, and I have fewer and fewer of you each day”

 

“Well, here you go, Witticker” Gave thrust a chapoagne flute into Wittickers open hand and popped open a bottle of Crystal.  “We’re celebrating”

 

“So then.  Whats this news”

 

“Ecocentric is on the up.  We’ve made our first hire”

 

“That is good news.  But I didn’t think you were putting the adverts out until next week”

 

“I wasn’t going to.  But I got a phone call.  This woman was incicive, must have had her own feelers out, knew we were hireing.  Smart and um, not bad looking.”

 

“You switching sides Gav?”

 

“well, not bad looking if you’re, um, into women.  Anyhow, she seems to be a bit of a marketing wiz.”

 

Marketing?  The girl by the fountain!  Rick remembered the pain in her eyes.  And the anger as she talked about Witticker Holmes in such scathing times.  And the tenderness of her hand as he held it, held her back from falling into the water.  And the softness of her cheek as the tears ran down.

 

“And she used to work, um, here by all accounts.  Hvae you been secretly spreading the word.  I didn’t think…”

 

“I havn’t said a word about Ecocentric to anyone that works here.”

 

“Oh”

 

“And the way its going, I’m not planning on mentioning it any time soon”

 

“Problems?”

 

“Leanna.  Shes insistant that I keep myself focused on Cognitex”

 

“And the laweyers?”

 

“Bastards the lot of ‘em.”

 

“So what are you going to do?”

 

“Keep my head down, I suppose.  Keep out of their way”

 

“I think I know what you need, Rick”

 

“So do I” Rick topped up his champage glass

 

“Not that.  Look, why don’t you come over to My office once you can escape from here”

 

“You’re right, Gav.  Business is driving me round the bend.  I need to get my head straight – actualy doing some programming will be a blessed relief”

 

“Exactly.  And even though we’ve got a few fantastic guyes, noone has an eye for code like you, Rick. And frankly, you’re our only IT support at the moment, and we need someone to set up a computer for our new marketing department”

 

***

 

Jo was growing to like Ecocentric.  It was less of a soulless corportation and more of a family.  Albeit a slightly disfunctional family where most of the kids treated it like a hotel, turning up when they wanted, mainly, as far as she could tell to microwave food from the well stocked freezer.  Her first decision had been to tidy the office up, arrange it, get in some artwork and organise the desks.  make it look less like student accomodation and more like a place of work.  Within a week, Jo felt they finally had a place where clients would be able to come in and Take Ecocentric seriously.  Then Jo becan on the real job.  It was unusal, not seeing anyone some days, and being packed two or three to a desk on others, but Gav was usually there to lend a helpful hand and point her in the right direction.  It was al going smoothly, and Jo was beinning to feel maternal towards a couple of the scruffy engineers who turned up from time to time.

 

The days flew by, each providing her with new challenges.  Even her computer managed to work most of the time.  Gav kept saying that their tech guy knew his stuff, but Jo never saw him.  He apparently worked late into the evenings and she was a mornign person.  Their sole communication was by post-it note stuck to her monitor or the door of his office

 

“Computer broken, won’t talk to printer – Jo”

“user broken.  printer was turned off.  try plug socket – R”

“Computer keeps crashing – Jo”

“User seems to have installed dodgy screen saver. Chain emails kill. – R”

“IT guy keeps blaming me for everything – Jo”

“For paperless office company, Jo sure uses a lot of post-its -R”

 

and as Jo started getting the word out about Ecocentric, the opportunities started rolling in. At first it was just chaos, but Gav managed to cope, barely.  Jo would see him running around the office in panic, Jo would offer a few words and he would return satisfied – and the coders would come out from the stock cupboard where they were hiding.

 

And then there was today.

 

Jo looked at her watch: 5.20.  Ten more minutes and she would be walking towards the tube, once more crossing Fortesque square witha spring in her step.  Jo put down the pen and began to shuffle her papers, taking one last look through her day’s thoughts so that she had everything crystal clear in her mind for tomorrow.

 

“erm Jo”

 

Jo jumped.  Gav was behind her, and he was looking frantic.

 

“Gav, whats up”

 

“We have a problem”

 

“a problem?”

 

“A big problem.  I’ve just sort of promised to give a presentation to some guys out in New York”

 

“Thats fantastic”

 

“Tomorrow.”

 

“Oh.  Thats fast”

 

“I get the plane out early in the morning, into JFK by 12 their time, and um, hopefully their offices by 1″

 

“And the problem”

 

“Well, I was looking on the server, and I couldn’t find the presentation slide deck I asked you for”

 

Oh god.  Jo had planned to do that. She really had.  All she had to do was put her notes into order, break it down into simple points and put it into powerpoint.  Powerpoint.  Why had she never learned how to use powerpoint?  In the back of Jo’s mind Leanna was laughing at her… no not laughing, smiling that supportive, yet superior smile – the smile she made when she sacked Jo.  Jo stopped herself from whimpering.  Pull yourself together girl, everything is going well, you’re a hit here, everyone loves you, your making things happen, pushing things forward.  Gav won’t mind this one slip.. but what if he does.  Oh god.  You thought you were doing well at Cognitex.  How much do they really like you here.  You fungiable.  There are hundreds of girls in smart suits climing to be marketing experts.  And most of them are probably as good as you if not better.  You’re gonna have to wing it.  you’re gonna have to make things work.  Its all down to you.  You can do it girl (unless you can’t… no don’t think like that).  Right, deep breath. 1… 2… 3….

 

“It isn’t ready”

 

Gav looked like he was going to have a stroke.  Already he was crumpling, his hair drooped rather than flopped, the sparkel had drained from his eyes.  No longer the excited puppy, but now the dog desperately trying to avoid visiting the vet.

 

“No, Gav, its not a problem”

 

“Not a problem?  Of course its…”

 

“Have a I ever let you down”

 

“I’ve only known you a month”

 

“Look Gav.  Its almost ready” (lying to your boss is OK, isn’t it?  Must be.) “you look tired.  Go gome, get some sleep and get up early for your flight tomorrow.  I’ll meet you at Heathrow with the slides.  You can review them on the wya out, and be ready to give the presentation when you get to the states”

 

“my god.  Jo.  that, um thats fantastic.  It just might work.  Yes.  Tomorrow, heathrow. That’l be, what 6am, give or take”

 

“I’ll be there”

 

“you’re a superstar Jo.  Are you sure it won’t be any trouble?”

 

“none whatsoever.  See you tomorrow”

 

Jo handed Gav his coat, and bustled him out of the office.

 

No problem whatsoever?  Right.  OK.  Powerpoint.  Jo clicked the icon on her computer and waited for it to start.  She sighed a heavey sigh, then fired up her web browser.  “Google…  right.  Powerpoint tutorials”

 

It was a long evening.  The coffeee machine kept her awake and purte panic kept her focused.  The computer was behaving itself most of the time, clearly it didn’t have the grudge agaist jo that most machines seemed to find.  But still she was geting nowhere fast.  She had the content, but it either wouldn’t fit onto the slides, or she would return to them and it would be reformatted, or worse, the slides would be out of order.  It was going to take hours to get it all working.  Hours that Jo didn’t have.  She need3ed to get this right.  And if that meant statying up all night…

 

***

 

Witticker Holmes took the elevator down from his office.  By this time in the evening, the only people arounbd were the cleaners, and one or two of his stanger, yet more tallented prgrammers.  Noone recognised him.  Witticker was glad that his face had been kept out of all the promotional materials, that while his name was world famous, noone knew who he was.  It made things easier.  Still going over to Cognitex was always a risk.  If the lawyers knew what he was doing…

 

he folded the collar of his long caskmeer coat up.  In the glass doors of the lobby he saw his reflection, looking fainly like a soviet era spy – the sort that liked to feed the ducks at richmond park, albeit with better cuioffered hair.

 

Every day the same.  But he needed this.  It was his only form of escape, the only time when he could stop being Witticker the business man, and return to being Rick.  He hurried across Fotesqueue square.  It was empty.  Most of the lightsinthe offices were off.  The city was always surprisingly quiet at night – an empty shell waiting to be brought back to life each morning as the first bleery eyed commuters arrive from the tube stations.

 

He took another furtive look around, and then used a pass card to enter a building.  hge looked at the plaques listing the companies “Hmm, Gave has shelled out to get one engraved at last” he thought as he walked past and took the lift up to Ecocentric.

 

Every time Witticker took thew lift.  Every silent evening like this, he felt a transformation occur.  The man enetering was the stiff, stressed witticker, but as each of the floors passed he relaxed and let go of this problems, of his work, of his every day life.  As the lift beeped and a mechanical womands voice toldhim he was on the eighth floor, he wa sno longer Witticker, the man, but the boy he has used to be.  The college dropout who still had fun, and zest and life.  He was Richmond. He was Rick.  He was himself again.  His strides to the office were confident.  A few hours in the dark, the glow of a computer screen.  Some coffee, maybe some music.  Most people would think him mad to relax like this, but for Rick it was heaven.  He rounded the corner.

 

And stopped.

 

The lights were on.  Damn.  He edged open the doors and had a look around.  A cleaner perhaps?  Noone obvious inside.  Rick stepped in, but in his heart he heard Witticker’s voice telling him to be careful… to be worried.  Rick threw his coat onto the coatstand.  In his youth he had been able to hit from a distance of yars – but he had grown soft, years of letting his PA handle that sort of thing had put him out of practice.  the coat flopped onto the floor in front of the entrance to the kitchen nook.

 

He walked over to retrieve it when a hand reached out of the kitched to pick it up. he stepped back. a voice called “Want a coffee.  I’ve just brewed a pot”.

 

From inside the kitchen stepped Jo.  The fountain girl.  An unexpected surprise.  A nice surprise, certainly.  But unexpected.

 

“you?”

 

He watched as Jo turned to see who the intruder was.  As first confusion, but then a glimmer of recognition in her eyes.  her beautiful brown eyes.  Now deeper and so much more attractive than when they were tearfull.  yet still vulnerable.  Oh god.  She shouldn’t see him here.  Did she know who he was?

 

“Oh my god, its you”

 

She did

 

“Rick. Oh my god you’re”

 

“That isn’t really anything we need to worry about, I htink I have the wrong office.  Perhaps…”

 

“No.  You’re him arn’t you.  Rick.  its you”

 

“Well.”  He looked sheepish.  Perhaps she wouldn’t tell anybody.

 

“You’re R.  you’re the IT guy here.  You always work nights.  Thats how you knew about the job”

 

Thank God. “Yes.  I’m Rick.  We don’t normally get people here this late.  I come here for the peace and quiet”

 

“you know,” she looked at the coat, and looked up and down at rick’s suit “you’re awfully well dressed for someon int IT”

 

“Yes well its” Rick strucggeled for an excuse.  Wedding perhaps?  At midnight on a wednesday – unlikely.

 

“No problem, none of my business.  You’re an IT guy right.  You know powerpoint?”

 

“I do…”

 

“Fantastic.  Rick, you’re about to save my life”

 

***

 

Jo led Rick over to her desk, and fetched him a chair.  Rck stood while Jo took a seat at the computer, then sat next to her.

 

“So what seems to be the problem?”

 

“Computers”

 

“Computers?”

 

“I don’t get computers.  Computers hate me”

 

“Computers are inanimate object.  Without emotion or any sort of cognative capability”

 

“yes.  Inanimate objects without emotion or any sort of cognitive capability that hate me”

 

Rick chuckled

 

“Don’t laugh.  If anyone found out that I can’t use computers, I’d get the sack.  again”

 

“I wasn’t laughing…”

 

“you were.  Look if you’re not goign to help”

 

“I’m trying to help”

 

“I’ve got to get these slides done by… well by as soon as possible”

 

“fine.  Show me where we are”

 

“Don’t rush me.  Right…”

 

Jo fumbled the mouse into position and began to display the cards.  She flicked through them on the screen, one after another.  Useless, she thought

 

“Fantastic”

 

“You’ve got to be Kidding”

 

“Jo, If i knew half as much as you about putting things like this together, I would be – well, in a totally different place from where i am now”

 

“You are kidding.  I only just managed to get these assmebled, and look” – she pointed to text bleeding out of a frame, and to a card out of order “that won’t stay in place”

 

“Here”  Rick took Joes hand, held it on top of the mouse and maneuvered the two, expertly, firmly.

 

“I just drag it like this”.  Rick pressed down on Jo’s index finger and then gently flicked the pointer to another position on the screen

“and release”  His muscles relaxed, and Jo felt the cold of the evening air hit her hand has he lifted his away.

 

“It hasn’t ever done it for me before”

 

“You just have to know how to take control”

“can you help me with this now” Jo pointed to the text

 

“its all the same.  Jo.  This is what I was talking to you about.  When we were down by the fountain.  Take control of the situation.  Realise you have it within you.  Try to go it alone”

 

“Well thanks for nothing”

 

“”Look, I don’t come here to help people out of their little problems.  I come here for a bit of peace.  If you can’t accept a biut of friendly advice””

 

“Friendly?”

 

“Yes, Jo.  This is friendly.  You seriously don’t want to get on my bad side”

 

“right now I don’t want to be on any side of you”

 

“Fair enough”

 

Rick stood up, and slammed his chair under the desk.  He spun around and marched away towards the offices.

 

Fuck. Oh hell.  How the fucking hell anm I going to get this ready in time now.  Good going, Jo.  Blow the one little bit of luck you had.  Now you’re not going to finish, and not only are you not going to have the slide deck ready, you’re goingt o break the promise you made to Gav.  Being fired suits you.  This is so not you’re evening, no thanks to that self important little…

 

Darkness.  Silence.

 

“what the fuc…”

 

JHo loooked around.  Out of the window there were lights.  But in the office nothing.  No lights, no sound.  Just the faint green glow of a fire exit sign.  No sound.  No sound of fan no sound fromt he computer.

 

Had she saved the slides?

 

Oh Fuck.

 

“Oh Fuck”

 

Right.  Enough.  This is no good.  I’ve got to be somewhere elsew.  If I’m going to have a breakdown, I don’t want to do it here.  Especially not with that…. that.. man around.  She thought of Ricks eyes, They were beautiful when he smiled, but when he was condescending to her they turned into the most haeful pools of excrement.  Outside.  Sh swiped her jacket from the coat rack and marhed over to swing open the door.

 

Jo hit the arms, body and face on the class..  She shook the handle.  “Oh Christ” in the powercut the doors locked for security.

 

Jo fell to the ground.

 

***

 

“Are you OK?”

 

There was someone standing over her.  From the faint fire exit glow Jo was just able to make out Rick’s shape.

 

“I’m screwed.  The powers out.  I have to get a presentation to Gav by god knows when this morning. And I’m locked in the office”

 

“We have been having a few glitches with the power.  Hold on…”

 

Rick funbled in his pocket a pulled out a key chain. “I’m going to need you to hold this” he handed them to her

 

“What.  He grasped her hand and pushed a finger down onto a button.  A small light came on”

 

“Pocket flashlight.  Now did you save your work?”

 

“I don’t know”

 

“Not to worry.  We’re all built on top of Cognitex here.  I know a little something about its internals, we should be able to salvage most of it”

 

Rick pulled her computer form the pugh socket and began dismantalling the case

 

“What  are you doing”

 

“Getting the hard drive.  Right. done…. now if you follow me”

 

Rick pulled a box from inside the computer case and ran towards his office

 

“You’re breaking my computer?”

 

“No, I’m saving your bacon.  No can you hand me the external drive case?”

 

“the what”

 

“Not to worry.” hRick grabbed a box from on top of a filing cabinet “Just keep holding onto the light”

 

“I don’t know how you can do it in almost pitch black”

 

“I can fix this sort of thing wirth my eyes shut.  The light is so you have a chance of remembering what I’m doing”

 

“Fat chance”

 

“Perhaps”  Rick had put the hard drive into the external case, and was pluggin it in

 

“We don’t have any power”

 

“I have an uniterruptable power supply.  It has rechargable batteries, usually just about enough to keep computers runnign until they shut down… but for this disk – well, probably enough time”

 

“Enough time for what”

 

Rick opend a laptop and onnected it to the disk.

 

“Success”

 

“you mean”

 

“give me a second”.  Rick typed a few keys, and the desktop was replaced by a new image ‘Cognitex Recovery’ “fantastic.  Yes, it seems to have saved all your work.  We’ll have you running in what, he looked at the progress metre ont he screen, what, 20 minutes”

 

“Oh my god.  You’re a lifesaver, Rick”.  Jo ran over and hugged him.  Hard and tight against her body.  She pecked him on the cheek, and smelled the sweet musk of his aftershave, and the rough evening stubble of his face.  She pulled back.  Rick put his hand onto her left shoulder balde and pulled here once more forward.  Stronger, tighter.  And this time he was doing the kissing.  She joined him, there lips in tight embrace, her tounge exploring his teeth, her hands moved down his back.

 

Jo felt her dress loosen as hRicks hands popped the buttons undone.  The hand reached inside, and own past the small of her back.  the air was cold, and his hand was warm.  She began to manever the puttons one by one away from the fron of his shirt.  He pulled her closer, tightly worwards him, and her legs buckled.  Laughing they fell to the floor.  Jo could see the Sillohette of Rick’s head aginst the window, illuminated only by the computer screen.  Behind him, through the large glass window was the night sky, stars and a bright yellow moon.  Jo reached down, and slowly unzipped his trousers.  She was exploring more, feeling more confidendt, more sure of herself.  A huge power entered her, stonger, more than she had ever felt before.  Taking her somewhere new, overpowering her, yet empowering her.  Rick was close to her, their hearts racing together but beating as if they were one.  Faster and faster sahe felt him pull her closer and cloer.  Together in perfect union. She was week from exhaustion, yet wanted more and more closer. Warmer. And feeling calm.  Calm and safe in his arms.  She felt Rick relax, he held her tight, and jo let him hold her.

 

The lights came on.  Jo blinkked, and looke dover to the computer, it was flashing Done.  She looked at her watch.  3.30… Oh god.  She had to get the slides done, had to be at Heathrow for Gav.  Rick was stirring now.

 

“Jo?” he said, blinking in the light “power back?”

 

Jo smiled.  Look, I have to get these slides to Gav.  There isn’t time to take a train any more and  I don’t know if I’m going to be able to take a taxi, and I havn’t finsihed getting them readdy and”

 

Rick reached over to her, gently put a finger on her lips

 

“Let me take care of it.  Here -” he pulled as USB key from the computer “you hold onto this and this” he handed her the laptop.  I have a few phone calls I need to make.”

 

***

 

Jo stepped outside the office, pulling her dress up, and trying to fastern the buttons.  Had that all really just Happened.  Was it just a moment of gratitude, or was it.  No it was More.  It had beed there from the start, fromt he fountain.  In every conversation, it had been there, like an elephant int he room.  They had danced and fought and avoided it, but it was bursting at the seems, and int he quiet and the darkness it had come out, errupted like a volcano, like an earthquake, like – well, like Rick errupted before her.  And now it was the aftermath.  Small sudders – aftershocks – running through the mantle of her being, but peaceful.  A time for reflection, for wondering what it meant. And where it was heading.

 

Was it going to continue.  Did Jo want it to continue?  Would Rick.  He was a handsome well dressed man, surely he could have his pick of any woman – certainly not the first girl who came to him asking how to save a word document.  It wouldn’t make sense.  He had conquored her now, why would he want to continue anything?

 

Well.  That wouldn’t be the end. Except… a partner.  Someone to love.  To tell Jo she was beautiful.  To kiss like Ric had kissed.  Just once more.  Not.  She would have to let him go.  Don’t show weekness.  Be strong.  Be firm.

 

***

 

“Gav”

 

“Uggh”

 

“Gav?’

 

“Its like 4 in the morning”

 

“Arn’t you meant to be on your way to the airport”

 

“Soon.  Soon.  But that doesn’t mean I have to be awake”

 

“Look Gav, I need a favour”

 

“A favour?”

 

“I need you not to go to New York”

 

“Ric, Ric.  I like you.  You’re a fantastic, um, guy.  But have you lost your mind?”

 

“I think perhaps I have.”

 

Ric stared at the wall.  Good grief.  Did he really let that happen?  Another woman, more risk… but such a nice risk… it felt so right.  He knotted his tie

 

“Go on boy.  tell uncle Gav”

 

“Well.  Um, you know Jo”

 

“Fantastic.  She’s amazing, gonna meet me at the airport with some work I sprung on her at hte last minute”

 

“I may have, accidentally, slept with her”

 

Who was he kidding.  He had wanted Jo since he first saw her sitting by that fountain, so innocent, so vulnerable, so beautiful…

 

“You did what?”

 

“I know. Its crazy.  And the lawyers are almost sorted out.  This could blow everything.  If I could just get her away from me for a couple of days, enough time to get my head straight, and make sure the lawyers are on track”

 

“What does this have to do with New York?”

 

“Here’s how its going to work. Gva, you’re going to call Jo.  Tell her you’re sick”

 

“Sick?”

 

“really sick.  To sick to travel.  Shes marketing right, she can do your presentation?”

 

“you want me to send Jo to New York”

 

“Just get her away”

 

“I’m going to regret this.  But for you Ric”

 

“You’re a star Gav.  I’ll get Beth to make the arrangements, sort out tickets, have a word or two with my firends in homeland security”

 

“It really is another law for the rich, isn’t it?”

 

“If ecocentric plays right, you’ll find out too, old mate.”

 

“Cheers”

 

Ric disconnected the call, and dialed another number

 

“Ryan”

 

“Mr Holmes?”

 

“I’m going to need the car.  Fortesque square.  As soon as you can”

 

“No problem sir”

 

“and ryan, just for tonight:  you don’t know who I am, and you’re a taxi”

 

“I’m on my way sir”

***

 

“I called us a cab – well, executive car.  It’ll be downstairs before we are.”

 

“Ric, how can you”

 

Ric pulled out his wallet and flashed a black credit card.  “Company credit card – I have to buy the servers. I figure we’ve been working so hard this can be on expenses”

 

Jo and Ric ran downstairs.  Jo jogging the laptop, ric trying to pull on his Jacket.  The car was parked across the square

 

“Why do they always assume its cognitex ordering the posh cars?” asked jo.  “Bet that Wittiker Holmes uses them to get around unseen by the likes of us… sitting in the back, lighting his cigars with tenners”

 

“Ric flinched.  “Someone with his cash could use fifties”

 

“Yeah but millionaires are skinflints – how else do they get to be so rich?”

 

“Fair enough.  Tenners it is”

 

Thanks god.  She wasn’t smiling, wasn’t even prying.  She didn’t know who he was.  Not a clue,  Fantastic.  Right, best bet certainly to get her out of the country, and away from any possible brushes with the truth as soon as possible

 

“Car for mr ho…” Ryan paused, as he saw Ric’s comapnaion “Mr and Mrs…?” he raised an eyebrow

 

“Car for Mrs Vickers.  From Ecocentric”

 

“Yes sir.  Thats right”

 

“Can you get her to heathrow, terminal 5 asap”

 

“No problem”

 

Jo turned around.  She looked quiziccly at Ric.  “What, arn’t you coming?”

 

“Well, i was rather hoping to get home after a long night”

 

“but I need you ric.  We havn’t finished the presentation, Gav will be…”

 

“Gav won’t be a proble…”

 

“what”

 

“Nothing.  Fine, I’ll come”

 

“Terminal 5?” ryan asked as the slipped into the back seet of the limo together.

 

“Thats right.  As quick as you can.”

 

***

 

Ric was nervous, Jo could tell.  His heart was beating, and he looked flushed.  As she sat watching the london landmarks pass as the car sped throguh the slowly growing early mornign traffic, Ric looked firmly out the front, seeming to avoid gazing at anyone or anything.  Jo opened the laptop and began to type

 

“Reading in cars makes me sick”

 

“here.”  Ric snatched the laptop from her and began to play with it.  Not many changes left, were there?”

 

“No just a few”

 

it was a brusk tone.  Ric was shutting down. He didn’t want to be there.  and Jo didn’t want to be anywhere else but by his die.  She new it was foolish, but letting go now would be admitting that she didn’t deserve love, that she didn’t deserve a life.

 

***

 

“Almost complete.  There.  Saved…a adn backed up onto the USB key”

 

“Thanks Ric”  The car had pulled off the motorway, and the firs tof the ariport hotels had come into veiw when Ric heard Jo’s phone ringing.  Jo looked at the screen “Gav” she explained and answered

 

“Gav, don’t worry, we’re almost here”

 

“we?”

 

“Ric came too”

 

“So I heard”

 

“pardon”

 

“Nothing.  Look theres been a problem”

 

“a problem”

 

“I’ve been, um, er, throwing up,  Throwing up all night.  Chunks everywhere”

 

“Oh god Gav, ar eyou OK?”

 

“I’ll um i’ll be fine.  One of those, sick throwing up things that they keep talking about in the papers”

 

“So are you going to new york then?”

 

“No, I err, thought you might like to”

 

“Me?”

 

“Its all sorted – just go up to the desk, they’ll have everythign arranged”

 

“But Gav I…”

 

Her passport magically appeared as if it had been retrofitted into the story some how.  Perhaps back at the beginning of her job she handed it over, and then Ric was able to half-inch it from Gav’s desk.  Yes thats the ticket.  It all really happened just like that.  seemlessly.  You wouldn’t really notice. in fact, Ric spied it sitting on Her desk, disorganised she still had it from induction.. there was probably a joke about the fact she wasn’t very well traveled.  As for Ric… he goes everywhere with it.  Thats what billionaires do.  any anyway, if people spend all their time thinking how clever I was to keep Jo’s passport int he story fromt he beginning, they’ll overlook Ric’s.

 

“No buts.  Look this deal is , um, superimportant to us, Jo.  You’re the girl”

 

“Oh well.  I’m going to new york.  I’ll see you when I get back.  When is that exactly?”

 

“It’ll say on the ticket… um, excuse me Jo I’ve really go to g….”  The phone went dead

 

“Your going to New york?” ric asked

 

The car pulled up.

 

” I can’t do it.  Ic an’t go to new york’

 

“Not scared of flying are you”

 

“no.  No.. but the presentation’

 

“You don’t like talking”

 

“no ric.  you don’t understand.  its slides and there on the computer, and projectors and cables and”

 

“and”

 

“computers hate me”

 

“well, I’m sure someone there will be able to help”

 

“No.  ric.  Image.  We’re the no paper people.  We’re the everything seemlessly without any problem people”

 

“You’ll hurt the image”

 

“I will.  Unless…”

 

“unless?” Ric was intrighed

 

“You’re coiming with me”

 

“I’m what?”

 

“seriously ric.  Di you have anythign better planned?”

 

“Better than?”

 

“You’ve got your card for expenses.  You’ve got your passport”

 

“My passport?”

 

“when you pulled out your walled to show me the card – its a travel wallet.”

 

“my you are observant”

 

“Its decided.  You, ric are going to save Ecocentric”

 

“I am”

“yes.  Ric, we’re going to new york”

 

“We are?”

 

Oh my god.  How could he say no.  It was stupid, it was foolish, they could be seen together, it was totally and utterly irrational.  There was only one thing to do

 

“We are.  new york.  Wow.”

 

He loved her.  he would do anything for her.  This was not going to end well.

 

“Ric opened the door and held it for Jo to exit the car

 

“Look if I’m going to american, I’m going to have to make a cll or to”

 

“Mee too Ric, Me too”

 

Ric walked away a little for privacy

 

“Beth… you’re going to need to make another call to homeland security…”

 

***

 

“So you’ve never been to the USA before?”

 

“no”

 

“Immigration is fantastic”

 

Really.  Jo had heard the stories of the forms and the queues and passengers being turned back, or made to wait in holdign cells

 

“If you’re coming to do business here they are really friendly”

 

Ric turned to the stewardess and thanked her before walkign through the aircraft door and onto the airbridge.  A Man in a black suit was holding a card reading Jo Vickers.

 

“That guy will do wonders for us”

 

“he will?”

 

Jo and Ric folloed the suit through a door marked no entry, and across a closed down section of the airport, opened a gate to allow them through immigration and customs, and then over to where their luggage was waiting. “easy”

 

“There is a car waiting for you outside sir.  And the senator would like you to have this” the suit handed Ric an envelope.

 

“The senator?” Jo asked

 

“oh probably just some sort of Welcome to new york business pack” ric said, stuffing the envelope into his pocket.

 

Jo smiled as she looked out of the airport doors and towards the wide, concrete roads.  She saw the steam rising from a manhole cover and a line of yellow taxies waiting”

 

“We’re getting a new york cab?”  jo rubbed ther hand together with glee.  Ric smiled to see her so excited “um, yess he are.”  He looked down past the line of cars to see the large black sedan whiich was waiting for him.  “yes, a cab.  Just wait in line, and we’ll be heading over to manhatten in a jiffy”

 

***

 

Jo sat next to Ric in the cab.  She looked out of Rics windows, occasionally steeling glances at Ric.  At other times she pointed out landmarks “Oh my go, the Brooklyn bridge”, “Times squae” “Is that the empire state building?”  “no wait, thats the empire state building”  The cabbie gabbled into his radion in a middle eastern dialect, and Ric, ric took it all in his stride

 

“Wahts the matter Ric.  This is new york, arn’t you excited?”

 

“I’ve been here before”

 

“But new york?”

 

“Arn’t you worried about the presentation?”

 

“Not with you here.  You’ll fix any problems with the projector, right”

 

“Well, yes but.  You’re giving the presentation”

 

Oh god.  Why have I been saying Oh God so much.  Its like everythign goes well until Rick enters the frame and stirs up my mind.  He leaves me in a constant state of panic.  The presentation.  Jo knew the context, could repeat the content in the sleep, and clients, well, Jo had talked to people before, knew she was able to speek well, convincingly, but these wern’t just people in englan, these were Americans, new yorkers.  They had to be more sophisticated and worldly than a girl like Jo.  Didn’t they?

 

“I can present”

 

“I’m sure you can, but I remember the first time I had to…”

 

“You’ve given presentations”

 

Ric was looking flustered.  Poor dear, he must be remembering a bad exeprience from the past

 

“Well… yes… I… I’ve talked at technical conferences once or twice.  Nothing big”

 

“Well.  Ic an handle myself.  I hope”

 

“Just don’t let them scare you.  Be yourself” ric put his hand on Jo’s knee “and they can’t help but love you”

***

 

The cab pulled up outside a skyscraper. Tall walls of brick towering up above the streets.  A merble lobby, looking more like a palace and less like the shabby london offices Jo had grown to expect.  Jo saw ric watching her as she gawped upwards and composed herself.  “Jo Vickers – I’m hear on behalf of Ecocentric to see” she looked at her papers “Claud White”.  The receptionist hander her a badge and indicated towards Ric

 

“Oh, erm Ric.  Ric… my god, Ric, I don’t even know your last name.”

 

Rick paused.  hesitated. He had lied so much.  He didn’t want to lie any to Jo any more.  He wanted to take her in his arms, and tell her everything.  Appologise for all the decipt.  Appologise for Leanna.  But that couldn’t happen.  Not now anyway.  Maybe another time.  He looked at Jo.  In his mind he saw her not in the plaacial lobby of a fortune 500 company, but ina palacial chapple, bedecked with flowers, stading beside him at the alter as she mouthed the words “I do”.  Chrch, that was it. “Ric Church”

 

“thats Ric Church.  He does my IT”

 

The receptionist scrawled Ric’s name on a badge and laughed .”Church and vickers?”  Ric groaned inwrdly.  Did he have that little immagination.

 

“Mr White will be with you imminantly”

 

Jo and Ric sat down on the plum leather sofas.  Jo picked up her notes and Ric started flicking through one of the magazines.

 

it was only a few minutes before they were interrupted.  Ric heard a cough from behind him and turned to see a suited man looking straight at him.  Claud White, it appeared.  Ric stood up and put his hand towards White, ready to shake.  From the corner of his eye he saw Jo and stopped himself mid flight.  “Errm. Miss Vickers” Rick said, trying to direct her attention towards White.

 

Jo fumbled her notes and let them spray onto the floor.  She stooped to pick them up, but Rick was already there, at her feet, tidying up the papers in his hands.

 

Jo sood up striaght and looked White inthe eye

 

“I was expecting someone a little more..” White stopped in his tracks.  Jo could tell he was embarassed about makign a gaff by greeting Ric, and then again my suggesting a CEO should be male.  She decided to put him at his ease

 

“no no, thats alright.  It was all very last minute.  I’m Jo Vickers.  Gav co… Gavin Douglas couldn’t be here today, he was very ill last naight.  I stepped in at the last moment”

 

“and your…”

 

White looked at Ric.  He was sure he recognised him from somewhere, but so far had been unable to place the face

 

“Ric.  Rick Church.  He provides me with my technical support”

 

“I understand.  Well, if you follow me, I have a few people who would be very interested to hear what it is you have to say”

 

***

 

Jo followed White into and out of an elevator, through another marble apnneled corridor and into a boardroom.  Unly the plywood and MDF with which Jo had decked Ecocentric, this room had a huge oak conference table at its centre, with individual halgen lighting illuminating everyon in a warm light.  Around the table sat 4 more men, ranging.  All tall, broadshuldered with strong jaws and neat dark hair.  It was as if Jo had walked into a room of all american streotypes.  Rick began to attach the laptop to the projection equiptment while Jo was introduced to the clones.

 

“Right Jo.  If you’re ready… white ushered to one of the men, who used a remote to dim the lights”

 

“Gentlemen”  Jo began “We’ve all heard how important it is to save tohe world, and we’ve been promised the paerless office for years. We are the people who are able to make it a reality.  I am going to tell you about Ecocentric”

 

“Ric projected the Ecocetric logo on the conference room screen

 

“Organising and filing paper is a big burden for the modern company…”

 

When Jo spoke, it always began nervously, repeating prepaered sentances she had memorised, gradually taking in the audiance and winning them over to your side.  You attempt a small joke to gague if they are int he mood to laugh.  You push futher.  To try to win not only their attention, but gradually their hearts.  You don’t just tell them facts, but rather you tell them a story.  If it works well, soon they are begging you, urging you to move on to tell  them more, to take them towards the end, towards the payoff.  When you get it right, you can feel it.  You know in your heart you are in control, not only of the slide projector, but also of everyone in the crowd.  They are no longer making the decisions, no longer judging or second guessing you – they are yours to mould.  And this is exactly what jo achieved today.  She was performing at her very best… and she knew why, it was becuse Rioc was there, and however much he frustrated her, how ever flustered she was in his company, she knew that given the chance to do what she was good at – selling the corportate story – while he did what he was good at – all that stuff with the wires and the beeping – there could be no failure – there was only success.  It was like a fire was running through her body

 

“and glntlement, if you move all your systems to an Ecocentric core, not only will you be using significantly less power on a company wide level – you will also be using less paper, stopping gloabl reforestation, and you will be encouraging the deployment of renewable poer sources throughout the world.  You may say that it will be a big change, and you would be right.  But the costs of implementing an ecocentric system will pay for themselves in less that a year – and you will be palying your own part in avoiding the cost to your children and your children’s children of gloabl warning.  Ecocentric – for right now, and forever!”

 

Jo looked aorund the table.  White was standing up, and he was smiling.  She looked over to Ric.  Ric had his eyes set on her, had been following her every move.  And he was smiling, a big broad smile.  And nodding.  “Well done”he mouthed.

 

“Thankyou Ms Vikkers”

 

Jo was so facinated by Ric that she had forgottena about White.  She snapped to attention and drew her gaze back towards him

 

“I’me very impressed,. Ms White.  If everythign you say is true, then I think I have some people that need to see this for themselves.  Would you be able to come back in a couple of days time and give a presentation to my board”

 

“Victory.  Jo smiled “Yes.  Absolutely.  Thats Friday is it?”

 

“2pm”

 

Jo waled over to Mr White and shook him firmly on the hand.  But even as she enjoyed her success, her eyes were over looking at the finely scupltured bottom of ric as he reached over the oak table to disconnect the projector.  f only the others were gone, she thought, that table would give us plenty of space to enjoy ourselves.

 

***

 

“I belive” Ric said “This calls for a celebration”

 

“I think it calls for a drink”

 

“your wish, Jo, is my command.  Taxi”  Rick put out his hand, as a car rushed past him.  “Hrrumph, taxi” the next cab stopped and they got in “Take us to…” Ric was about to suggest the Rainbow rooms, when he ralsied that that was where people like hiim usually went for celebrations.  Ric knew White hadn’t recongnised him because he was out of context, but sitting in the rainbow rood, drinking campage, no that would never do, he would stick out like a sore thumb.

 

“Takes us to somewhere where we can get a drink”

 

“Okay.  You two over here to see the Christmas lights.  Very romantic”

 

“Oh we’re here on business, we’re not a copuple”

 

“You’re not?”

 

Jo caught Ricks eye “We’re not” she mouthed

 

“Not officially, anyway.  I hear companies frown on that sort of thing”

 

“I gotta tell you this buddie.  I just love the way you english speek.  I had a pal’a’mine over in ing-gland last summer.”

 

“Well I’m glad.  hey, I know just the place to take you”

 

Ther driver sun the wheel, sending the taxi spinning across the center of the road, and into the opposite lane.  Horns blared.  “now this is new york… now on’ce you’re done with the beer, you gotta go to the rockafeller centre, see the tree.  Oh and the top of the Rock.  yeah, you guys gotta do the Rockerfeller center.”

 

Ric looked at Jo

 

“Well, i was thinking of taking Jo to see the view from the empire state building’

 

“Nah, buddy.  Ya see, the problem with the empire state building is, well the problem wiht is is you ain’t seeing the empire state buiulding, you’re just looking at everything else.  And if you wannna see New York, you gotta see the empire state buiding, don’t ya?”

 

“I guess you’re right.  So, what is this bar you’re going to take us to”

 

I’m not taking you to no bar, buddie.  I’m takin’ ya to a Pub.  Just like you avne back home.  its called the Atlantic Chip Shop”

 

“are, an absolutely authentic name for an engllish pub”  The car stopped outside wooden doors with an awning ith Chipshop written on it in faux newsprint letters

 

“oh my God” ric said, “we’ll we’re here now, and htey do seem to have drinks”

 

“well then, lets celebrate”

 

Ric pushed open the doors and walked intot he room.  Bare brickword adorned with beeatles posters and dark wooden tabled, sporting bottles of sarsons vinegar.  “Britain by diney, what mroe could a girl want for her first dinner in New york”

 

“Right – we’ll have 2 cod and chips and two beers”

 

Ric looked into Jo’s eyes, and Jo looked back.

 

“you know, Jo.  After all this time, you really havn’t told me very much about youself’

 

“I havn’t told you much about me.  What about you.  I didn’t even know your sirname until this afternoon.”

 

“Fair enought.  You tell my yours and I’ll tell you mine”

 

“Ok.  Where to start?  Computers.  I hate computers and they hate me.  Have done for a long time.  I once got chucked out of an IT class at school because every computer I sat down at stopped working.  The teacher thought I was being deliberately mischeivous.  It doesn’t get any better.  I bet I lost my last job for much the same reason”

 

Why Did leanna sack Jo?  Hard to second guess the mind of women, Ric decided, still, ti was worth looking into.

 

“Well… computers were really where i shone.  None of that people lark for me.  I did well at school, mind you, got myself into a decent university, but my heart was never in it.  It didn’t seem real”

 

“So you dropped out”

 

“kind of.  I got into writing some software.  Just as a hobby.  Never thought of it as going anywhere, but then, sometime in my second year, I found people were out there buying it.  And I had to support them, help them.  It took more and more of my time, and, frankly, it was a damn sight more interesting than second year physics.  I didn’t really drop out, more I took a leave of absence, and havn’t ever really gone back”

 

“”so why are you doing tech work for Ecocentric”

 

“Ah.  I’ll get to that.  But you – you’ve got to tell me more about yourself.  Why do you feel you feel you have to keep working for someone else”

 

“I thought we’d moved on from this… Look.  I like to be safe.  I like to feel like I’m part of something, something that will protect me.  Thats what Cognitex offered.  And thats what I’m helping ecocentric to offer me”

 

“But ecocentric can’t offer you that”

 

“But they can offer me money in the bank every month, and thats more than I can.  I have somethign reliable beneath all the chaos”

 

“Fair enough.  But let me ask you this.  Cognitex decided they didn’t want to pay you any more.  They dropped you.  Who knows why?  Who really cares.  You were entirtely reliant on them.  Ecocentric are the same – do you know that the funder isn’t just goning to pull out?”

 

“I don’t even know who the funders are”

 

“precisely.  You’re putting all your hopes into Gav being able to manage something.  And Gav – well, he’s a good bloke, but you’ve got to admit, its a risk”

 

“Your point”

 

“If you go it alone, you can work for more than one person.  Your work stands on its own.  if you’re good – and you are, I saw you at that presentation today, you’ve turned a neat technical idea into a really stunnign story – if you’re good, then people will want to buy.  and if, later, on, for whatever reason, one of those people decides not to buy, thenyou still have the other customers.  The thing about going it alone, it you have the potential to have more people there for you when times are hard – people who will rely on you, people who will be motivated to help you when you can’t help yourself.  Thats what being excellent really is – being true to yourself”

 

“And you’re true to yourself”

 

Ric thought deeply.  to myself, perhaps. to you, not so much.

 

“I think i am”

 

“Well then,, why are you working for Ecocentric, not your own company”

 

“Ecocentric are just one of my employers. Gav’s a friend – he’ll do a hell of a lot for me, and right now he’s one of the guys helping me out when I got myself into a stick situatuion”

 

“Would you care to elaberate”

 

“Well – out of uni I had too many customers.  Its the sort of problem every businessman loves to face, but its a problem.  You have to grow, and without a track record…  well, you have to find funds from somewhere”

 

“You sold your body” Jo laughed.

 

“no.  I sold mu soul”  Ric looked jo deep int he eyes.  He didn’t flinch.  Jo’s smile deadened.  And ric broke out into a guffaw

 

“Well, perhaps not my soul.  I took a partner on.  He gave me the cash, and a bit of advice.  I gave him some of the company.  It was an honourable deal, and he was an honourable man.  Hell, I dated his daughter” joes eyes narrowed.  Did Ric detect a little jealosy. “for a while – But then he died. And it turned out my lawyers wern’t quite as good on their side of the deal as his were when we split the company.  His estate had control.  and I had, well, I had lost most of what I worked for.  It was a bad time, but I kept at it.  I hoped for a long time I would manage to sort things out.  But they got worse.  Gav came into my office one day, and found me under my desk, unconcious.  Couple of empty whiskey bottles by my side.  He was a good man.  Kept it all hush hush.  Decided I need to get out of the toxic enviornment, and brought me over to help on his new startup.”

 

“Ecocentric”

 

“precisely”

 

“So there is more to you than just a nerd in a suit”

 

“No.  Not really.  At least, not until I mey you”

 

Ric reached his hand across the table and clasped Jos.  His hand tingeld with excitement as he touched hers, and he saw the hairs on her neck all stand to attention.

 

“Now… we could stay for another pint in Merrie Old Englandshire, or I might have a bteer idea”

 

****

 

“Its cold.  Can I take this thing off yet?”

 

“Not quite.  Just a few more steps”

 

“I don’t like not being able to see”

 

“You’ll be able to see everything in the minute”

 

“I’m freezing”

 

“Here”

 

Jo felt a surge of warmth around her shoulders as ric placed his jacket over them.  He huggeg her tight

 

“Warmer now.  I think its time to let you have a look”

 

“If your naked I’m gonna… wow”

 

“Quite a sight”

 

“I’m on top of the world”

 

“Well, actually, you’re on the top of the Rock.  That cabbie had the right idea”

 

Jo looked out.  She was above most of the buldingins in manhatten.  Illuminated by every office light she could see glinting down itn the metropolis below here  “Its amazing”

 

“So are you”

 

“Why arn’t there any other people here”

 

“I called in a favour.  You see, there are lots of people that owe me a thing or two.  Its past clsing time”

 

“so its just you, and me”

 

“and the whole of manhatten”

 

“Wow.  Ric.  You’re not like anybody else I’ve ever me”

 

“And you’re not liek anybody else I’ve ever me.  Jo – you’re real.  You have deams and life and enerygy”

 

“And you have reslience and strength, and well, now I come to mention it, quite an impressive chest…”

 

“So with everything you’re have to look at, you’re only lookign at me?”

 

Jo nodded in agreement.  Her eyes were transfixed looking at him.  The rest of manhatten had just faded away into the background

 

“me too”

 

Jo held Ric close to her.  She felt his body shiver int he cold december air

 

“You’re freezing”

 

“we could step inside”

 

Rics hands on joes shoulders pushed her around, to face an an atrium, lit by thousands of tiney lights

 

 they stepped inside and felt the rush of warmth as the doors closed bhind them.  Thousands of lights int he city below, some moving on the front of cars, some stationary in buildings and advertising hordings, all coming together to form the shapre that was unmistakeably new work.  and now around her thousands more lights, different colours each light forming a pattern which moved around, changing the colours.  But also apparently following her.  Jo stepped to the left.  the lights dodged to the left too.  She moved forwards, awave of green followed hr.  Ric laughed, jo was like a small child with a new toy.

 

“They’re not watching us?” Jo asked

 

“no.  its all computers and sensors”

 

“It would be.”

 

“so.”  rick began unbuttoning his shirt. ” we can do whatever we want”

 

“Well what I want to do right now is this”

 

Jo stepped over towards Ric.  Another step forwards, closer and closer, entering his personal space, and feeling accepted.  She placed on hand on his bare chest, and felt the firm muscles held tight in antcipation.  Her other hand sh placed on his shoulder blade.  Also firm, also strong.  Anso tensed, waiting, longing.  She placed her lips gently on his chin, and lightly, sensetively, briefly, a whisp of a kiss.  Then she withdrew.

 

“Thats all you want?’ Ric asked

 

Jo smiled.  Seductively.  On cheek raised in a come hither grin.

 

Ric came hither.  Hi arms grabbed her firmly around the waist and pulled her roughly towards him. now her heart was beating, her body was tense.  A flurry of hands unbuttoned, pulled wripped and threw away flimsy layers of clothing.  The cold of the night ,mattered less and less as they were warmed by each others body.  The lights around then twinkled and rolled, spin and shone.  Illuminated as Jo and Rcik writhed together, pressign pushing caressing and arousing.  Jo shivered as his teech bit into her shoulder, then again, as his hand found her hips and worked his way around, and slowly, teasinly down, and in.  She paused.  Everythign was white.  Everythign was right.  Now her body was pulasting waves aof pleasure over and over as she saw green blu red and yellow flashes illuminating eveything aournd her.

 

Gradually the lights faded, and the room dimmed, moved stilled and frenetic heat was replaced by a lingering, sensual warmth, and a closeness and Jo lay held by Ric’s strong arms.  She sighed contentedly and pulled his jacket across the floor, using it to cover her.  They lay together, above the city for hours.  Enjoying the peace and quite only a short while above the city that never sleeps.

 

***

 

Ric’s phone broke the peace.

 

“Turn it off”

 

“I’ll be right back.  One second”

 

Ric stepped outside. hastely fumbling with his shirt and trousers.  He recognised the number.  It was local.  It was the senator.

 

“Witticker?” the senator asked

 

“You’ve got me, senator”

 

“I was wondering if you had an answer for me”

 

“An answer”

 

“You did get my letter?”

 

Ric raecalled the airport.  The letter.  Was that only earlier this afternoon?  He had placed it securely in his suit’s jacket pocket and then forgottena ll about it..

“I got it, i havn’t had tiome to read”

 

“Not a problem.  It was just an ivitiation”

 

“An invitation?”

 

“Its my Cahrity ballt his evening, I thought that since you were in the country, I might be able to persuade you to attend”

 

“The truth is, senator, I’m travelling here incognito.  If people knew why I was here, I could get in a lot of trouble”

 

“All the more reaason to come to my ball.  It gives you a rewason to be here”

 

“you’re quite convincing, but I don’t really do the social thing any more.”

 

“So I keep hearing.  Its a real shame Wittiker.  I could do with more decent conversation, and less hearing abotu what shade of green Gucchi are going to be using next season”

 

“I can imagine”

 

“So you’ll come?”

 

“I didn’t say that.  Things are a little – well, a little tense right now.  I wasn’t planning on being here – in this country – in this continet today.  I really have to make sure things are goign alright at home before”

 

“Fine.  Fine.  I’ll keep a space open for you.  And your partner?”

 

“My partner”

 

“If I recall, I had to get two people through JFK under the radar.”

 

“Ah.  Her. Yes,a botu that.  it might be good if you don’t mention it to…”

 

“As if I would.  You know me, my word is my bond”

 

Ric frowned.  Just one day with one woman and it was all beginning again.  Why did they bring him so many problems.  A day ago the lawyers were in place, and things were going smoothly.  Now?  Now here he was, standing on top of the Rockafeller centre in cumpled trousers and a shirt, which, if truth be told, the wrong buttons were inthe wrong holes, with a woman, a goddess – Ric looked over towards Jo, who was staring out over the over side of ht ebuilding, looking at to pool of darkness that was central park – , a goddess who doesn’t even know my own name… and who would hate me if she did.  And now the senator knows I’m here, and – well, he isn’t always the most sensitive of people – I hope I can trust him.  But who can you trust?  Even I’m lying,a nd I’m meant to be above all of this.  No.  Jo.  Jo is the one person I can trust.

***

 

Jo watched Ric leave with his phone, and rolled over, trying to remain comfortable and warm, now that his stong arms had deserted her.  She hugged the jacket tighter, but it was uncomfortable.  There was somethign in the pocket.  She reached in, then withdrew her hand – she shouldn’t look though the pockets, should she.  But it was uncomfortable, and Ric, well, Ric wouldn’t be holding anythign back from here, it was probably just his wallet.  She’d just remove it.  Not look through it – lookign through thew walled would be wrong.  Removing it, well, maybe it fell to the floor on its own/  Jo shook the jacket and the letter fell to the floor.  She shook it again, harder.  This time the wallet fell. to the ground and bounced.  One bounce, the popper releasing, and his passport flying out and onto the gorund at ther feet.

 

A passport wasn’t private.  You show it to strangers all the time.  And with Ric’s head pointing out over the city, towards the empire statebuildign and the stature of liberty beyond, how else could she look into her eyes.  besides, it landed at Jo’es feet.  She really didn’t have a choice.  It was fate.  Or at least a luck coincidence.  She picked the passport up, and turned to the back page.  A picture of Ric. A yonger ric, less assured, geekier perhaps.  Hair not as coiffered.  but unmistakably Ric.  She looked at the date of birth.  Nineteen seventy-eight.  Older than her by only five years.  And his name.  Ric Churche’s full name – his emabassassing middle mname perhaps.

 

Jo Stopped.

 

Surname / Non : Holmes

 

Holmes?

 

Give Nmaes / Prenoms: Wittiker Richmond

 

Witticker Richmond?

 

Witticker Richmond Holmes?

 

But that was the same name as…  Jo stopped again.

 

It wasn’t the same name as the founder of Cognitex.  Just a few metres away outside the room the man she had slept with, the man she had loved.  The man… the man who had sacked her.  Who had jumped in the sack with her. was Witticker Richmond Homles.  The Witticker Richmond Holmes.  Fo Cognitex.  Jo dropped the passport.

 

Perhaps he didn’t have to know she knew.  Perhaps she could find some way for this to pass.  What was Wi9tticker Richmond Holmes doing in new york with a girl like her.  She though back.  The car.  The plane tickets.  Getting through customs.  The letter from a seantor.  It all made sense now.  And yet he had chosen to do it.  Could Witticker Richmond Holmes just choose to stop going to work and slip off unannounced to New York with a woman?  Or was that one of the benefits of being ultra-rich? And what was he doing at Ecocentric anyway.  He had fixed her computer last night… whta sort of Billionaire rumages around under desks lookign for power cables.

 

Jo thought back to their earlier conversation in the chip shop.  What that true?  Was he really in trouble.  Or was that another story.  Perhaps it would be better if she confronted him.  But if he didn’t want to tell her, perhaps he had his reasons.  Ric – Witticker – knew that Jo hated Witticker Richmond Holmes for the way cognitex had treated her.  He knew that Jo would never for a minute talk to him, cinsider him, and he also knew  that they came from different worlds – different planets.  They wouldn’t fit together.  They couldn’t fit togeter.  Without a lie.  And it was a small lie.  Oe that he could get past when the time was right.

 

How could she feel this way about Witticker Richmond Holmes?  about the man who, ten minutes ago she would have gladly told she loathed, and who now, now she thought about him, she could only think of as the man she loved.  A man who would do anything for her.  She turned to look out over new york.  Below her was a gasping chasm between brightly lit streets to her left and her right.  Central park.  In the centre and chaos of the city, there was a point of stillnessa nd solitude.  No.  She loved Witticker.  Thsi wouldn’t change anything, couldn’t change anything.  She couldn’t blame hime.  Not any more.  No.  All her rage, all her fury, everyt last bit of pain, that could all be targeted at the person who deserved it… and Jo was startled, yet pleased to realise she wasn’t blaming herslef.  No.  She was blaming Leanna.  LEanna Cavel.  Leanna Cavel,m the woman the world knew as the supposed partner of Wittiker Richmond Holmes.

 

The Bitch.

 

That couldn’tr be true could it?  It could.  Ric had lied, Wittiker had lied before.  She knew he was capable of hiding the truth – how else do you get to be ultra rich?  But why would he hide leannaa – she was everything a man could ask for – why risk it all with Jo..  Perhaps the press had made a mistake.  Perhaps it was all rumours and innuendo.

 

Jo loved wittiker.  She would love him even is Leanna was still in the picture.  that much she was sure.  But she wouldn’t like him.  And Wouldn’t be with him.  And that pain.  that pain would be huge.  Still, she looked out over the city.  That was aproblem for another day.  Right now, right now this was a fairrlytail.  A world between worlds.  A place where the usual rules of ligfe and love didn’t matter.  Little flakes of snow began falling past the window.

 

Jo turned around.  Outside, Witticker – no not Witticker, Ric – was standing, loooking in, watching her.  Jo smiled, and Ric returned the smile.  This was it.  Simple.  Easy.  Jo tilted her head, indicating that Ric should come in.  He entered and moved slowly towards her.  She wathced his eyes as they looked her over, takign her in completely, caressing her body as his hands had done earlier.  It felt colder now – was that JO knowing the truth, knowing that behind his eyes he was thinking something he couldn’t – or didn’tr weant to tell her, or was it just the night air brought in with him from the freezing outside.  Jo shivered.

 

“Its getting late”

 

Jo nodded.  Ric was right.  She was tired now.  These wern’t thoughts to have in the heat of emotion and exhaustion.  These wern’t thoughts to have following the exilleration of todays flight, or todays meetings.  These wern’t thoughts for a slowly fading jet lagged mind.  These were thoughts that could wait until tomorrow, wait until the calm of the morning when everything would be different.  Jo relaxed, and looked out at the snow as it shimmered.  She was calm now.  Nothing mattered.  Nothing at all, except.

 

jo stopped.

 

“hotel”

 

“pardon”

 

“Hotel.”

 

“Five letter word meaning inn or hostlery?”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Hotel.  You were saying about a hotel”

 

“We don’t have a hotel”

 

“I’m sure Gav booked…”

 

“Gav may very well have booked a hotel.  But he didn’t tell me”

 

“well, we can just call him and”

 

“It will still be early in the morning, and, poor Gav, he sounded terrible on the phone”

 

“Terrible”

 

“Terribly ill”

 

“ah. yess.  ill.  You’#re right”

 

“So we can’t call Gav”

 

“no.  Indeed.  Too ill.”

 

“And its snowing”

 

“So a bench in central park is right out then?”

 

“Yes a bench is right out”

 

“calm down, I’m kidding”

 

“Well don’t.  Focus”

 

“look we’re in new york.  I have a credit card.  Ric wen’t for his wallet, and saw it lying on the floor.  He picked it up, and flicked through the contents, pulling out the black plastic.  We’ll find a room.  In fact…”

 

Ric dialed a number on the phone

 

“Excuse me… do you have any rooms available for tonight?  Yes, I’m aware its late.  You do.  Superb”

 

Ric hung up

 

“You see.  Do a few people favours and you get to know about some of the citiy’s hidden gems.  Come with me.”  Ric scooped up his jacket and passport, and hung wrapped the jacket aroung Jo’s shoulders”

 

“Is it far”

 

“No.  Very close”

 

“good”

 

The elevator ride down was Long.  Jo looked around, seeing it all for the first time, free fromt eh blindfoild which covered her eyes as she ascended.  But Jo was to tired to take it all in, after the excitement and passion of the day, her mind was fading.  She wanted to stop now.  Wanted to crawl somewhere dark and lie undesterbed.  To hibernate with Rics arms wrapped around her.  Around her, and oly her, for an eternal winter.

 

Ric led Jo down the street.  As they walked he pointed things out.   Jo half heard a mention of the Radio City Music hall and the NBC studios, but she wasn’t paying attention any more.  New york was passing her by just as the cars speeding down the streets passed by. Tired, and calm. Jo didn’t remember the moment when it happened, but before long she had crumpled down on the floor and fallen asleep.

 

***

 

“Where am I”

 

Jo began to panic.  Gradually the memories of yesterday returned to her addled mind.  The slides.  The plane.  The meeting.  The chips. the roof.  The sex.  The walk and… oh gor Ric.  Witticker.  Ric.  The bastard.  The gorgeous, wonderful bastard.  leanna.  Not not leanna.  not Wittiker.  Ric.  Where the hell was he? Jo  looked around.  The room was small, but it was gorgeous.  The double bed on which she lay was covered in rich heavey sheets, and firm plump cushions of cotton and velvet.  Tall mahogany cambinets andstrong colours softened with quirkilly positions minature paintings.  And the flowers.  A dog size arrangement of lowers, with a card.  A card “For Jo”.  Jo read the Card “Thank you for a wonderful day.  Ric”

 

What did it mean?  Where was Ric.  Had he gone.  Did he leavee her.  Back to Leanna perhaps.  No.  Do n’t think about Leanna.  Just Ric. Ric wouldn’t leave would he?  Maybe he did.  Maybe Jo made a fool of herself last night.  Why would a billionaire care what happened to Jo?

Jo looked at herself in the mirror.  She detected a new youth, a radiance about herself that had been born anew by the excitement of yesterday.  But also a new depth, from Ric, and everythign he now meant to her, and everythign he was able to take away.  She was vulnerable now.  Vulnerable and naked… Naked.  Jo was naked.  Ric must have removed her clothes.  That was caring and sweet, and… well not entirely unexpected, he had done it several times before – but each time in the heat of passion, this, this was more intimate.  This was different.  This was about her.  Had he watched her as she slept.  That was almost certain.  The last thing Jo remembered was talk of NBC and early morngin crowds before Good Morning America.  Where were her clothes?  And where was Ric.  Jo searched the room.  Nothing, except for a dressing gown.  A warm inviting fluffy gown in a red that matched the room.  Jo snatched it up and draped it over her just as Ric had draped his suit over her yesterday evening.

 

There was a knock at the door.  Jo whirled around and tightened the robe.

 

“um yes/” she enquired.  “I’m not really very ready for”

 

“Jo?”

 

Ric.  Thank god.

 

“Oh my god, Ric.  Jo fumbled with the door.  “ric. Thankyou so much for the flowers and the room, and what happened last night, did anythign happen after we got here.  What happened to my clothes.  DDid you take my clothes. “

 

Ric laughed.  Jo remembered when she first heard that laughj, out by the fountain.  It sounded so patronising and superior.  Now she knew what it really meant – not patronising, but caring.  It was a nervouse sharing, a way ric bonded and was able to feel what Jo was feeling.  “Calm down.  Here.  Ric motioned to a bad he was carrying, something Jo had ignored.  “you must have been shattered last night.  You fell asleep on the pavement – well, on the sidewalk I guess they call it out here – I had to carry you to the hotel”

 

Like a fairy tale, just like the snow.  A sleeping beauty and her price charming.

 

“And my clothes?”

 

“Open the bag.  You fell asleep on the pavement.  On a pavement in new york.  In the snow.  I had to do something.  Luckily, as well as convenient boutique hotels, New York also has a fair collection of twenty four hour dry cleaners”

 

Jo opened the bag.  Her clothes were inside.  Clean and pressed.

 

“Oh ric.  Thank you.”

 

“no.”  Ric motioned to the flowers “thank you.  I haven’t had this much fun in… you know, come to think of it I have never had this much fun.  I didn’t know life could be like this.  I really didn’t know I could enjoy myself caring for.  being with.  spending time with”

 

“With someone else?  With another person.  Sharing yourself?”

 

“Well, actually, yes.  With you.  Jo.  You’re amazing”

 

Jo looked at Ric carefully.  Studied every movement his face made as he spoke.  Looking for a faintest twitch, the slightes sign that he was lying.  That this was a show, a performance.  Another lie.  But she saw nothing.  Could he be tweeling the truth.  Had he melted.  That was impossible.  How could Jo be the first woman to show Witticker Richmond Holmes how to have fun – he was loaded – seriously – financially, mentally, and from what she recalled from last night physically.  Was it possible that no woman had ever taken him by the heart?  Never.  He could have had his choice of suiters.  Look at Leanna.  Model perfect.  Honours Degree fromt he Sorbonne.  How could Jo, with her 2-2 from canterbury ever compare with that?

 

But Ric was smiling.  And when ric smiled, logic passed by.  And Jo felt herdself melting in exactly the way Ric was describing.

 

“Never the less” Ric said.  “I think it has occured to me exactly what itr is we need to do today”

 

“Well, I was planning on sitting down and revising the Ecocentric presentation for tomorrow’s meeting”

 

“Well, thats one possibility.  But I can think of something better.”

 

“you can?”

 

“well, it isn’t really very businesslike to turn up to another meeting in exactly trhe same clothes as the previous one.  Peopole will think you only have one set of clothes”

 

“Thats one more set that I had ten minutes ago”

 

“true.  Nevertheles, I think it is very important, neigh, neccessary that you and I go out shopping this morning”

 

“well.  You appear to be a master not only of computer fixing, but also of negotiation, Ric Church.  Take me shopping.  I’m all yours.”

 

***

 

Shopping.  Fantastic idea, Ric thought to himself.  Shopping.  Now, true, Jo did need to go shoping, that was undoubtable.  One set of clothes would never do.  But what did Ric know about shopping?  Leanna, she could shop.  She treated shopping as its own artform, trailing around one out of the way boutique and ending up like something had crawled off a catwalk and mated with Voigue.  But leanna wasn’t here… and Jo… well, Jo didn’t seem all that Vogue-y.  She would probably settle for something ordinary, comfortable.  Something which wasn’t going to cost her – or the company credit card – too much money.

 

Which wouldn’t do.

 

If Ric was going to spend time with Jo in new York – and that decision had already been made – he wanted to ensure he treated her right.  JO was oging to have the time of her life in every respect – of that he was sure, because wh Jo was happy, he was happy, hiis heart warmed every time he saw here wide eyes sparkle as they passed another landmark, or saw anotyher famous site.  Ric thought back, deep into his memory.  Where was it that Leanna had liked to go.  He wracked his mind.  No good.  Ric had usually zoned out long before his driver had pulled the car to a halt.  In only 10 minutes Jo was expecting Ric to take hor out towards the bright bustling mecca of new york fashion, and ric was vaguely wondering if he could think of anything slightly mor einteresting than Macys or Bloomingdales… or… what was that shop they named the kiddy dinosaur after?  Whatever.  Fashion wasn’t his thing.  He was technology, information.  If only technology could help.

 

Ric slapped himself on the forehead when he realised his stupidity (do people actually do that, Ric wondered, apparently they do.  I’m a living walking Cliche).  Ric pulled his mobile from his pocket and navigated to google.  “New York Fashion District” he typed.  “I’m feelin’ lucky… fantastic”  Rics mind raced. “Hmmm, new york vogue…  yes”

 

There are benefits to being a geek.  And ric understood that one of them was the ability to quickly absorb vast reams of information and spot patterns, synthesise theorys and come to logical conclusions.  Eight minutes later when Jo knocked on his door, Ric was ready.

 

***

 

“I know absolutely nothing about fashion”

 

Ric looked at Jo, and understood what she meant.  It wasn’t that Jo was unattractively dressed, or that her suit was anythign less than fantaticly complimentary, to what was already a fantastic body.  But it wasn’t fashion.  It was clothes.  There ios a line between fashion and clothes which Ric could only understand by thinking about Leanna… it was similar to the difference between art and the pictures you find on chocolate boxes.  The both take talent, they may wellboth look very attractive, and they both do their job.  But one takes risks and has the soul of the creator infused in it.  The other is simply servicaeable.

 

Jo deserved better than servicable

 

“Jo.  You look fantastic.  But this is new york – you can find amazing things here.  Down in Chelsea, somewhere below 27th street there are any number of tiny boutiques waiting for you to explore”

 

“boutiques… but I can’t.  Can’t I just get somethign simple?”

 

“You could.  And macys is over there” – Ric pointed in the opposite direction. “But I don’t know:  you’ve been sent to New york with absolutely nothing other than the clothes on your back.  Isn’t it time you lived a little – time you took some time out for yourself.  Time you took advantage of the fact that our funders pay almost no attention to our credit card billl?”

 

Ric laughed.  There was one funder – one person who paid every bill ecocentric raised, and he looked over the bills in great deatail.  Thankfully the funder was Ric himself – or rather Witticker – and Whitticker could be persuaded to overlook things like this.

 

Jo smiled.  Ric loved that smile.  He loved to see her won over by argument, or money, or fun.  Whichever it was.  Won over by him.  Just as he was Won over by her.  COmpletely, totally, utterly.  Foolishly.  This could still ruin everything.  If Leanna was to find out, the lawyers would have a field day.  Ric would be lucky to get anything from the settlement – Leanna would take it all.  Every last…

 

Now was not the time or the place.  Ric shook his head, to clear it.  Leanna was a continent away.  Lawyers were on the other side of an ocean.  This was a perfect space, a gap between the worlds.  A time out from everythign else that was going on.  This was just about him and Jo.

 

“Jo Vickers” rick held his right arm at shoulder level, open parmed to indicate everythign about the world around her “I give you new york fashion at its finest.  Scores of shops, each waiting to take Ecocentric’s cash.  Each wanting to make you happier though the power of unridaled consumerism”

 

***

 

Jo looked aorund.  Each store had a different name, each trying to sound vaugely exotic, each attempting to stamp an individuality.  And each containing wondeful bright, pretty, long, flowy, short, slinky glittery, leathery, velvet and chiffon things.  It was like heaven.  it was better than heaven.  This kagzi coat – she looked at it, paten leather, crumpled with a thick waist belt and short cut off just below the hips… In all her childhood days at church, the minister had never mentioned anytrhign about Kagzi coats in heaven.

 

“Oh my god”

 

“Would you like to try it on”

 

Jo spluttered and tried to keep her composure.  She looked for a price tag, and saw nothing.  A shop without prices… either the stuff of dreams, or with more crushing reality, the type of  place where if you needed to know the price, you probably couldn’t even aford to look.  Jo’s heart sank…  but the kagzi… she loved it… although the alumi coat with the fake fur stome and the tailoring sitting across the aisle was calling out her name too.  Why had ric bought her here?  She couldn’t afford this.  This was out of her league, out of her world.  This was the sort of place only frequented by the fashionistas.  The elitle.  The ulta rich.  The… the Witticker Richmond Holme’s of the world.

 

How could she have forgotten.  This wasn’t Ric bringing her somewhere to kit herself out for a business meeting. This was Whitticker Holmes, bringing a woman to the shops.  My god, he had probably done this hundreds of times, with supermodels and catwalk waifs.  With Leanna Cavel.  And now me.

Jo looked over at Ric.  He smiled and nonned a strong, confident smile.

 

“Yes.  Yes I think I will”

 

“If you would like to accompany me, the changing rooms are across the floor”

 

Jo followed as the impossibly tall and thin assistant tottered across the boutique floor.

 

“you know, I htink I give this a try too” Jo said, pulling the Alumi coat from its hanger.  Rics grin grew.  And for a moment, just a fleeting moment Jo allowed herself to pretend that this was anything but temporary.  that this could be her life.

 

***

 

they say that time flies when you’r ehaving fun.  Jo was experiencing something different.  More than fun.  Bordering on the religious.  A state beyond time where anything could happen. Shop after shop, each containgin more wonders.  One an aladdins cave of trasures, the next uiptight and ordered, yet open to her – Jo got the feeling just to her, another comfortable, relaxed with ambient music and staff who would bring their thougths to you, fitting Jo with everything she needed – at least once they say Ric’s credit card and knew that she was serious.  Jo recalled pretty woman:  at one time it had been her favourite film, right now it was her life.

 

“Somethig busineesy”

 

“You have ameeting?”

 

“Yes”

 

“I can find you the exact thing you require, Ma’am.  Smart yes”

 

“er, yes”

 

“But casual.  COmfortable”

 

“Absolutely”

 

“Relaxing, wi5th an elegance that shows you’re confident deep inside”

 

“well, if thats”

 

“And, I think all finsihed with.  Your eyes.  To complement your eyes.  You should do more with your eyes.  Have you been to Jaques Le Fluer”

 

“Whats a Jacks?”

 

“Jaques.  No.  it is new, but he is absolutely fantastic.  I will gaive you”  The man reached into his incredibly tight leather pants and pulled out a note pad “I will give you an address.  Tell him that Ry’anne sent you.  Ask him toaccentuate the eyes.”  he turned to a girl – tall and impossibly thin, but with a sshock of red hair to differentiate her from the assistant two blocks away “Michelle.  We need business, casual, elegant.  High confidence I was thinking Galtier.  See what you can find”

 

Michelle nodded

 

“So you are from London… I was there for fashion week int he summer…”  Ry’anne’s conversation continued with an ease and flattery which came naturally to him, until Michelle arrived bearing a suit

 

“you will look wondewrful in this, darling.  Try it.  No now, quickly you must”

 

Jo carfully unwrapped the suit fromt he thin tissue paper than was encasing it.  Inside was something thin, misshappedn yet perfectly tailored.  Exquisite black jacket and long flowing off white dress with a black print pattern.  A bloues  of rough cotten with a floral emboridery.  Low cut to show more breast than Jo would ever consider appropriate, yet cautiously hiding  her modesty.  It was so unlike her usual considered high street suit.  It was so much more daring, yet so much more refined.  She loved it.  Loved it with a passion.  This, she spoke directly to Ric, this is perfect.

 

***

 

More shops.  Ric had done the rounds before, each boutique different, each one trying to give its customers a different experience, a different style – and most – Ric caclculated in his head, costing so much to run, and potentially making so little in the way of profit – even given the high per-item margins due to the scarcity of paying customers, that he was sure the next time he found himself in this area of new york, there would be another set of boutiques, each indistinguishable from these, but owned by different people – other fashinistas who wrongly thought they could make a buck where their oh so call colleages had failed.  Perhaps this was the way with style – it was baout what you did, not how much it cost you Ric figured – maybe there was a place you went onto after the Chelsea boutiques that made the expense worthwhile.

 

Jo had taken to it slowly at first, but as the midmorning had crossed lunchtime an d moved into the small of the afternoon, jo had found her sea legs.  She was becoming one of them – but remaining unmistakably Jo.  She was flitting from shop to shop now, trying to work out what, exactly, it was she liked and learning to describe it to each of the fawning assistants or owners.  There was an attractiveness to it – Jo was gaining in confidence – all she had needed was a kick start, 10 minutes of research on Ric’s part to put her in place – and the funds to make her dream a reality.  Why was it that whenever Ric tried to show her this about her work life it always ended in argument – why couldn’t she see that she was capable of being more than someone who relied on others.  Already Ecocentric was relying on Jo more than she could ever imagine, but there was no way Jo had noticed it – no way jo would ever believe it about herself.  If only there was some way to show her how talented she was.

 

Ric’s phone rang, and he excused himself once more

 

“Senator”

 

“Witticker.  I was wondering, have you given any more thought to the ball.  I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that you owe me one”

 

“You’re right, senator.  I do.”

 

Ric groaned internally.  He hated any sort of debt.  Debts always had to be repaid, and the cost was usually too high.

 

“So you and you’re partner will come?”

 

“I didn’t say that senator, I said I owed you one.  I am free tonight, and can indeed attend the ball… and I’m sure you’re charity will be taking away a nice donation on my behalf by the end of the evening.  My partner… my business partner… will, unfortunately be unavailable”

 

“Thats okay Witticker – its you I want.  Fantastic.  Tonight.”

 

“Until tonight, senator”

 

Why did Ric have to keep these people happy.  Influence and ego, he guessed.  Still – he could avoid anyone seeing him with Jo, anyone associating him with Ecocentric.  Hopefully that would be enough.

 

Ric returned to the shoip.  Jo was drawling over a selection of evening dresses.

 

“Superb business attire” Ric commented

 

“oh, I know” Jo replied, but her gaze was trapped by one particular gown which no more hung from a maniquine tah a river hung from a mountain side.  the gold cloth flowed, it waved, it weaved, bobbed and bubbled.  Ot sparkled in the sunlight, and reflected the depths of night. “I know this is something well outside why we’re shopping.  Its not something I could ever own.  It isn’t in my league.  But I’m allowed to fantasise a bit arn’t I”

 

“you’re allowed whatever dreams you wish, my dear”

 

Ric flinched.  Did he really just call her that.  My Dear.  It sounded awful  FIt sounded formal.  It sounded stilted.  It sounded like he was talking to Leanna.  First the senator and his manipulation, now here he was turning jo into something she wasn’t.  But the way she loved that dress, it was a passion he had only seen in her eyes a ferw times before – and all consuming passhion.  A temptation.  A guilt – but a pleasurable guilt.  The only times he had seen it before were when Jo was looking at him.

 

“Jo.  I’m afraid I’m going to have to go out and see an old friend this evening.  Terribly boring really, not somethign I would do given the choice, but he talked me into it.  You’re going to be working on your presentation, right?”

 

Jo nodded.  he could see her heart sink, and it made ric live ever so slightly more to see that he would be missed, but this was the only solution.  And if Ric knew the senator’s balls it would be a collossl bore.  Jo would be lucky to be left with her imagination.

 

Still, perhaps it warrented an apology.  As they left the shop. Ric made certain to take a business card.

 

***

 

Ric and jo continued their walk around manhatten for several more hours.  Ric took the opportunity to enter a mens outfitters and – despite Jo’s pleadings that it owuld be fun for the two of them for her to play dressup with Ric the way she had with herself – left minutes later with a suit bag in hand

 

“my friend” ric explained ” is a stickler for appropriate clothes.”

 

“And armanai isn’t good enough”

 

“Armani might do.  But plane crumpled, unpressed Armani?  I needed a new suit anyway”.

 

jo laughed.  Ric never looked anything less than perfect.  Even as he had pulled his tousers on the night before atop the Rockerfeller Center, he wasl aready looking better dressed  than any man Jo had laid eyes on.  Of course, she wasn’t looking at his Armani then, her eyes were still glued to his chest.  To each muscle that rippled as he moved and bent down to collect his shirt from the floor.

 

Snow was falling again, settling in small white clumps on the pavement and spellign out intricate patterns.

 

“We have a few more hours before I have to leave.  Is there anything you want to do?”

 

Jo hesitated.  “It sound silly”

 

“Wahts sounds silly”

 

“no.  Its OK”

 

“Jo.  We’re in New York.  Its your first time here.  What is it you want to do”

 

“You know the movies.  In new york in december.  There is one thing people always do”

 

“Tell me”

 

“Ric.  Why don’t we go ice skating”

 

“Ice skating?”

 

“why not?”

 

“well” rick hesitated, and changed walking direction so they were he4ading north towards central park. “There is one problem.”

 

“There is?  Are the queues too long”

 

“On’t worry about queues.  The problem is that I’ve never skated”

***

 

Jo laced up Ric’s boots  “They have to be tight” she offered “otherwise you might break your ankle”

 

“Well, at this rate I’m going to loose my foot from gangreene.  I think you’re cutting off the blood supply”

 

“Sorry.  Right.  Done?”

 

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be”

 

“Well, hold on close.  We’re going to the rink”

 

“You know, the cafe looks superb.  I’m sure I’d be just as happy watching you skate while I drink a hot chocolate”

 

“Ric…”

 

“and you can’t possibly enjoy it having to look after me every second of the day”

 

“Ric.  This is an important learnign experience.  So you have a choice.  Either you come out onto the ice with me and learn to skate… like that gorup of three year olds are doing, or you sit back where you are, drink a hot chocolate, and learn what it feels like for me to tip the contents of anothe rmug into your crithc”

 

“Damn you’re good at selling things.  Skating it is”

 

The central park ice rink was illuminated by bright lights, while the rest of the park was dark and covered by night.  A crowd thronged around the edge of the rink, and skaters wrapped up in warm gloves and scarfs hurlted chaotically around the middle, while the more tallented pihrotted in the cntre and bobed between the less controlled, avoiding them as a fly avoids the waving of an irritated hand.  Ric held onto the barriers for grim life as Jo darted around him

 

“Come on, its fun.  You just have to slide your feet like this” Jo indicateds ths now plowing, waling motion.  Ric staggered forwards a few yards, then crashed himself comfortably into the barrier.

 

“you’re getting there”

 

“I am?”

 

“Just take it easy.  its all about practise.  About taking careful risks, one at a time”

 

Ric slid forwards again.  Slightly more confident now, but remaining close enough to the barrier to allow himself to grab hold. Jo was nowhere to seen.  Ric searched for her, as a five year old, his family in toe, skated past with and ease and grace Ric normally associated with the ballet.  There she was, across the rink, spinning and swirling as she ducked in and out, dodged passed and whilred round the other skaters.  Here she was bold.  Here she was in her element.  Ric tried another few yards.  it was getting easier.  More and more yeards between pauses, grabbing onto the sides less and less, agetting further and further around the lap.  A quater of the way.  half way.  Back to the gaping barrierless enterance and past.  Successfuly negotiating a crowd of girls.  Jo had lapped him several times, shouted encouragement, and laughed at his occasional stumble.  But RIc was progressing on his own.  Steady improvement.  Learnign more and more with each step he took, figuring out the stategies that allowed him to maintain balance, that allowed him to hold onto himself.  No long was he the person that people were skating around – no longer was he the obstacle, now ric was the person avoiding the obstacles.  Not graceful, not fast, not even particularly stable.  But plausioble.  And improved.  A step on the way to being good.  And, after a while, able to circumnavigate the rink without stopping for a breeak, or needing to crash into a wall.

 

“you’re doing fine” Jo laughed

 

“You know what” Ric said “I am.  Look at me… I didn’t know how to skate”

 

“And you still don’t”

 

“No.  But I can get by.  And I know what my capabilities are.  And I know my capabilities are better than they were earlier on today – and I know that, if I needed to, I could push them further. Push myself further.  And who knows, maybe if we try this again, I’ll get better.  Maybe one day I will know how to skate.  Maybe I’ll be as good as you.  Maybe better.”

 

jo looked impressed.  “You have such confidence in yourself”

 

“Quite the opposite in fact. I know that I often look like an idiot when i try something new.  But i also iknow that looking like a fool means I can learn by making mistakes – its only pewople who think they have to know everything worry about looking bad”

 

“So your business?”

 

“I won’t be making that mistake again”  Ric thought about the senators ball this evening, a social event with all the same olf aces, the faces that had let him fall towards his destruction before, and how he had managed to avoid bringing Jo, avoided the obvious trap which could cost him his livelyhood.  He thought about the lawyers and how he might still managfe to hang onto some of what he had buiolt.  He thought about how he had succombed to the senators request, even though it was against his better judgement – how many more people woul dbe able to take advantage of his good nature and his honour. He hoped against hope that he wasn’t falling into the traps that had caused him so much grief before.  He hoped he could avoid those mistakes again.  But time was beginning to show to him that where emotions were concerned, where logic was only a small part of the Picture, Ric still had an awful lot to learn about not only himself, bu also everyone else and the games, stategies and rules they played by.

 

Ric looked at his watch.  “My god, its getting late.  Jo – I’ve got to go to seem my friend.  You know how to get back to the hotel, right?”  Jo nodded, and Rick slid his way catiously towards the rink exit, while Jo continued her pirhoetts and turns as he walked away.

 

***

 

Jo’s phone Rang.

 

“hello”.  Jo wanted to be brief.  This would be costing her a fortune.  Why did she leave her phone turned on?

 

“Jo, its, um, Gav”

 

“Gav.  How are you?  Are you feeling better”

 

“Better. Um.  Yes, Ill.  Getting over that now”.  Gav coughed, and jo thought back to Ric.  Did Ric arrange this?  It made some sense, but if he did, then why did Jo have to convince him to come.  “Here you bought Ric out with you”

 

“Yes”

 

“good guy, that Ric”

 

“Gav.  What there something you wanted?”

 

“Oh, um yes.  Had a call from that While fellow, over at Baker and Baker.  Seems a firm eough chap.  You did a reall number on him – I’ll have to send you out to the field more often.  He’s um, your biggest fan, really er, looking forward to takign you to see the board tomorrowe.  You’ve got a lot further a lot faster than I was expecting to manage”

 

“Great./  I thought things wen’t well too.  Look, gav, do you want to come out for the board presentation?”

 

“Um.  No.  Claude is really quite on your side.  He might even, um, have a little crush or something.  Seems very interested. Want s you to go with him to some event tonight.  Didn’t have your numbe,r only mine.  Asked me if I would ask you”

 

“I’m meant to be preparing for the presentation tonight”

 

“Jo.  Um.  Look.  This is difficult for me to say.  I’m er not telling you what to do here.  Its up to er you.  But if you go to this, this err, Ball – let me check – yes Senator Hinkmann’s Holiday Charity Ball – with White tonight, you’re going to have him on your side at the um, board meeting tomorrow.  thats worth more than a presentation.  And um, your presentation seemed to do the trick yesterday anyway.  Why try to, um, change anything.  If I were you, I’d do whatever you can to get people onto your side”

 

“Whatever I can?”  Jo was shocked at the implication

 

“Well, um, no, um I didn’t mean, um Jo I really don’t want you to get the wrong impression…  Its just sometimes who you know gets you further than what you know.  Trust me.  it was entuirely, umn who I knew that got me to where i am today”

 

“Gav?”

 

“Yes Jo?”

 

“Can you kep a secret.”

 

“That’s um, thats sometimg I’m quite good at, Jo”

 

“I thought so Gav.  Because I’ve found out one of your secrets.  It isn’t who you know that got you to where you are today, its who you are.  you see, I found out who Ric is.

 

“Ric.  IT guy.”

 

“No gav.  I found out who ie really is”

 

“um”

 

“Wittiker Richmond Holmes”

 

“Um yes.  Well.  You shouldn’t spread that around.  Ric has reasons for people not knowing.  He probably told you that”

 

“I havn’t told him”

 

“you havn’t>  Are you upset?”

 

“well, a little.  But if he wants me to like him for who he is, not what hes done, then thats up to him.  I might as well enjoy new york”

 

“good for you girl.”

 

“So is Ric going to be a problem when I get home”

 

“Whatever happens, I’ll fight in your corner.  Thankfully you’re doing him some good after all the problems with his break up with leanna”

 

“Leanna?  Leanna Cavel?”

 

“Well, um yes.  I’m probablky saying too much.  Yes, um, look.,   pretend we never had this discussion right.  Ah, the ball”

 

“The Ball.  Cluade White”

 

“Oh that”

 

Jo thought.  Could she go to the ball with another man.  Would that be right?  Did it matter, apparently Jo was just the rebound girl.  The rebound girl after Leanna.  (after Leanna, that gave Jo a shock of satisfaction, but she would have prefered to be first choice).  the rebound girl after the breakup. The breakup with leanna.  The Lawyers.  teh comany?  Had they been?  had they been married?  Ric didn’t have a Ring on, but why would he, if they were going through somethign like this?  A divorce and he hadn’t mentioned it?  COuld that possibly be why he was so evasive – why he was so cautious about everything?  Well, he’s leaving me to see a frind, why not – I could do with a night out, and – Jo looked around at the ice rink, looked at the snow falling in front of the trees, in front of the tall skyskrapers,a nd the black new york sky.  It was like a fairytale – and every fairyt5ale should end with a grand ball.

 

“Jo/  the ball?”

 

“Why not?”

 

“atta-girl.  I’ll get Cluade to send a car to your hotel in about an hour”

 

“Gav?”

 

“yes Jo?”

 

“Thankyou Gav”

 

***

 

Jo was panicing.  Why did she say yes.  Ric wasn’t like that was he.  Even if he was, this was New York.  This was different.  That was the rule.  jo was going to enjoy new york, she wasn’t going to be bound by the rules, wasn’t going to care about her life back home.  And.  Oh my god.  What was she going to wear.  It was a ball  All that shopping and she didn’t by a ball dress.  Didn’t need a ball dress for work Ric said.  Pah!  What did Ric know?  Jo thought back to her purchases earlier in the day.  MAybe there was somethign she could do, but she only had a short time, and she really needed to take a shower after the skating – it wouldn’t be professional to turn up all sweaty and in dissarry.   Jo climbed the hotel stairs and slid in the card to unlock her doo.  The room was dark, but lit by a warm glow from the streetlights outside which bleed though the righ black curtain.  Her shopping had all been delivered, and was placed in bags neatly at the end of the bed.  Jo rummaged through the bags, pulling out clothes one by one.  No skirt.  To short.  To businessy.  Perhaps this shirt could be put with something.  But what?  Nothing It was the final bag jo opned which shocked her.  Inside was a parcel.  Wrapped in pretty art-print paper, with a card attached, and a handwritten note aatached.  “Happy Christmas – love Ric”

 

Jo undid the paper.  Carefully gently.  Was she meant to open this.  Should she wait until nexzt week?  Tonight was an emergency.  Ric would understand. She had leverage over him now that she knew exactly what Leanna had meant to him.  She pulled back the paper and gasped.

 

Ric.  Oh.  Wow.

 

It was the dress.  THE dress.  The gold, sliky, glittery dress of waves and ripples and floaty-flowingness.  Ric knew.  And Ric bought it for her.

 

Cinderella.  in this new york fairytale, you are going to the ball.

 

Jo dropped the dress and ran to the shower.  20 minutes.  I can do it in twenty minutes.  tenty minutes and then off to a ball.  My first ball.  That I’ve been invited to by one of the top guys at Baker and baker – of New York.

 

Inside jo had more questions.  What are all these men seeing in me.  Top CEOs of international companies, both looking at me and seeing soemthing, seeing something that I didn’t know was there.  Are they both missing something, or am I.  Am I more than just Jo Vickers, marketting.  Is there something else?  Something that puts me on a par with them?

 

Jo turned on the water, and as it ran down her back, Jo asked herself the question over and over again.  Who is the Jo Vickers they see.  And how can I get to see her?  Jo smiled.  Tonight, this was down to her, and her alone.  She was going to have fun.  She was goign to be the new Jo, the stron Jo, the successful jo that everyone in New York was going to love.  The new Jo in the new dress, in New york City.  Jo beamed.  When a night wqas going so well, what could possibly go wrong?

 

***

 

The dresses flowed over Jo.  Golden sequins lit and flickered in the light of the lobby.  Clade White stood next to hre, admired her, his eyes danced, following each bounce of the light.  Jo looked and felt like a million dollars.  Here she was, standing at the entrace to the really big ballroom place without a name that is absolutely somewhere int he centre of new york.. I really need to do some research.  Where would be good:  I’m bored with the rockefeller center now.  To her right was Clade White, one of the top dogs at Baker and Baker.  He had been on the vanity faire power list.  Only a few months ago, Jo had been a faceless member of a marketing team – she could hardly afford to buy vanity faire, and certianly not anythign that featured in its pages. and now she was part of new yorks elite

 

“I’m really glad you were able to make it tonight”

 

“I’m delighted you invited me, Mr White”

 

“Please, please.  Call be Claud.  We were al;l really very impressed with you at yesterdays meeting”

 

“Thankyou”

 

“No.  Thank you.  Yo look stunning this eveing.  I don’t think I could have asked for a more delightful companion”

 

“Well.  Its christmas.  I think I can treat myself this once”

 

“jo took a glass of moet from the waiter positioned at the ballooms entrance.  “Should we make out entry?”

 

“I think we should”

 

Claud lifted Jo’s hand gently in his, raising it, so both arms bent at the elbow.  He nodded at the doorman, who opened the doors for them.  Jo grasped the stem of her glass tightly, and braced herself as she looked inside.

 

The ballroom was cavernous.  High arches leading up to a glass cealing looking up to the stars above new work.  Low level subdues lighting lit the wooden floors, while the tqables around the edges faded into the darkness allowing the rich and the elite that were seated at them a level of intimacy and privacy they they rarely got outside.  A string quartet played soft classical tunes, and individual lighting wrapped up the pillars, remiding Jo of the fairy lights on her christmas tree at home.  Clad led her towards the floor.  Smooth, wooden planks polished not only be careful staff, but also by years of dancing.  The gentle music gradually soothed Jo as she stepped out onto the floor.  Claud held her gently, yet firmly moved as they began to drift across the hardwood flor in time with the beat.  Aove Jo, the lights continuesd to sparkle.

 

***

 

Ric sat across the table from the Seannotr.  he shifted further back into his seat, attempting to hid int he dark recesses of the ballroom, away fromt eh eyes of socialites.  The senator was smiling and making small talk, and Ric was trying his hardest to keep out of it. He hadshown his face as much as he intended to, and the senator would be sure of a generous donation to whichever charity it was teh senator was supporting this year.

 

“I’m sure you understand the importance of…”

 

Ric drifted off as the senator continued to explain something he had little interest in.  Why, oh why had he agreed to come to another of these dismal parties.  Soone people would notice that he was present, and then – then there would be the never ending stream of wellwishers looking to make contact with the podigal socialite – and maybe one or two who were looking to make contact with the prodigal socialite on behalf of their daughters.  Most probably assumed he was still very much associated with Leanna, but some could be pushy – too pushy.

 

Ric thought of Jo.

 

Right now, right now he would prefer to be hoed up in the hotel room, with her – perhaps watching her try on the new dress he had bought her – seing her smile asshe had unwrapped it… and then, ideally, watching her as she took the dress off again and fell into his arms.  He shoudl have taken Jo dancing.  Not here, naturally, that would be a disaster.  Not here, but somewhere with more reality, somewhere with more passion.  There must be 100 clubs in new york, someone could have told him where to go.

 

Perhaps, Maybe Jo had had a technical emergency and needed him… ric pulled out his phone and looked for calls.  Nothing.  Maybe he shoudl call Jo, and check, just to be sure.  Ric entred her number. He looked over to the senator, who gave him a disapointed, disaproving glance.  “Sorry” Ric mouthed “Emergency.  2 seconds”.  The phone range and range.  six, seven, eight rings.  And then voicemail.  Ric looked at his watch -too early for her to be asleep.  Perhaps shes worked herself too hard.  Poor thing.

 

Back to the senator.  To early to be asleep, certainly too early to leave.  Only a few more hours.  Then he could be back with Jo.

***

Claud sheapparded Jo to a booth reserved for him.  Not far from the band, the music wrapped around them as they began to talk

 

“So you havn’t been with Ecocentric long”

 

“Noone has.  Ecocentric are still ver new” _ Jo realised her mistake – “but we are made up of people each of whom have outstanding pedegree”

 

“Jo.  Excuse me if I sound a little, crass, but you have already succeeded in telling me everything I need to know to trust and belive in ecocentric.  It isn’t a common occurence that I recommend a prospect directly to our board.  In fact, you are quite possibly the first.  Tonight, Jo, I wanted to get to know you, I wanted to get to know the person behind the presentation”

 

“Well, I’m not sure there is much to know”

 

“I find that charmign.  So bashfull.  So understated – you brits have a Je nes sai pa abotu you”

 

I”m fairly sure thats the french”

 

Cluad laughed.  “And the wit.  We could do with the more of that wit around here.  Have you ever thought about moving out to New York”

 

“Hardly.  I wasn’t expecting to come here at all until Gavi… until Mr Douglass was ill”

 

“And you havn’t been before”

 

“I havn’t been anywhere further than france”

 

“I didn’t take you for quite such a parochial woman, Miss Vickers.  I thought you were a lot more”  Clade looked apprvinglu up and down the length of Jo’s dress “Cosmopolitan”

 

“I’m learning”

 

“So you’ve had the opportunity to see soemthing on New York while you’re here then.  I hate those business trips where you never see more of a city than the inside of an airport, office or Cab”

 

“I have.  Ric has shown me quite a lot of the city”

 

“Ric?”

 

“You remember Ric”  Jo was backpeddling.  Why did she mention Ric.  Talking about Ric couldn’t possibly be a good idea.  Not right now.  Claude didn’t want to talk about Ric.  They were having such a good time.  Why did she feel the need to discuss Ric.  Why couldn’t Jo get Ric out of her mind?  “Ric did the tech support at our meeting”

 

“Oh him… there was somethign familiar about him.  Doe she know new york well?”

 

“Erm.  I think he has been here a few times.  Might have worked out here in ther past or something.  So where are you from, mr White?”  Change the subject Jo.  Well done.  Try to move him away

 

“Well, then, that must be it.  He must hasve been here sometime ago, maybe I ran into him then.  Now as for your question, maam, I’m from the south.  Texas.  A small town named San Patricio”

 

“San partirci?”

 

“San patricio.  Not far from Corpus christi”  Jo’s face was blank

 

“Huston?”

 

Huston.  We have a problem.  Yes.  Jo had heard of Huston.  She nodded

 

“Well, tel you the truth, I couldn’ wait to get out of there.  MAke something of myself.  Thats the sort of man I am, Jo.  Always looking to get what i want.  How about you?”

 

“Well, I don’t really know”

 

“Amazing.  You really are the modest one, arn’t you”

 

“Well.  Really, What I like is to be part of something.  Something big, firm, stable”

 

“And is ecocentric Big?”

 

“Well, no.  Not yet.  But it has big ideas.  And Big people.  And we’re already sealing deals with a number of important”

 

“You’re doing it again missy.  Don’t tell me about ecocentric.  Tell me about you.”

 

“Well, I’m seeing ecocentric grow”

 

“but you’re not seeing it as stable yet, are you missy.  Not like Baker and Baker.  and, truth be told, it isn’t big like Baker and Baker.  If it was big, you wouldn’t be talking to a VP like me, you would be talking to a CEO.  And if it was Big, I wouldn’t be talking with head of marketing,  I’d be talking to some jumped up little sales guy.  You see, at the moment, ecocentric is our plaything.  We can buy – and we probably will, because it suits us, and because you guys seem to know what you’re doing.  But down the line, you’re going to either have to grow – which will cause you more pain than you know right now, or you’re going to become dependant on us.  You’re going to find we are able to call the tune, and if you don’t dance the way we want you to dance, you’re gonna find we pull the riung from under your feet”

 

“What are you saying, Mr White?”

 

“Me?  I’m not saying anything, Miss Vickers.  But, truth be told, I was wondering if you wouldn’t feel a bit more comfortable somewhere bigger and more stable.  Somewhere like Baker and Baker”

 

“Mr White?”

 

“Claude”

 

“Claude.  Are you offering me a job”

 

“Actually, there I think I might be able to offer you a little bit more than just a job”

 

“Claud held his hand on the back of Jos neck, and bent down towards her.  She watched in terror, or perhaps stange facination as his face moved ever closter, as she began to smell the aftershave and feel the soft touch of his other hand against her cheek.  What about Ric.  What could she do abotu Ric.  Ture, Ric wasn’t here, but surely he would be upset. But he was married, and he had lied to her, consistantly, repeatedly.  And tonight was as special as any time in New York had been.  But tonight Jo was int he dress, the dress Ric had bought her – a dress which had apparently wooed claude White.

 

She pulled her head back

 

“no”

 

“I’m sorry, mam.  I didn’t mean to take advantage… its just that when I see you there, so talented and so beautiful, and so modest about her talents and her beauty, I just want to…”

 

“no.  No.  I don’t want you to feel embarrassed.  Really.  I’m charmed its just…”

 

Jo loooked across the dance floor.  Her moth opened in horror.

 

***

 

Ric was distracted from the senator’s conversation.  He recognised her from  just the shape of her sillohette across the room.  It was inconceivable.  How could she be here.  Today. This evening.  She wasn’t meant to be here.  This was going to be a disaster.  A complete and utter…

 

Leanna.

 

Acorss the room, and walking his way.  Slowly towards him.

 

“Excuse me senator”

 

The senator looked up.  “Have you seen someone who takes your fancy”

 

“Qute the opposite.”

 

Oh dear.  the senator followed Rics gaxe.  Leanna Cavel.  Fantastic.  He knew it had been a good idea to invite her.  People would be taking about this evenign for months to come.

 

“Have fun”

 

Ric began to walk towards leanna.  He had to be strong.  he had to keep calm.  There was nothing wrong with being in New york.  Everything was exactly as it should be.  Leanna couldn’t hold anything against him just being here.  This would go smoothely.  Politely.  And thn he could leave.  Dignity.  That was the answer.  Calm, polite dignity.

 

Ric waved a quick wave to Leanna and signalled her to follow him towards the edge of the ballroom

 

“Wittiker”

 

“Leanna”

 

“I hope this wasn’t you’re idea.  I know you’ve been chummy with the senator. But I didn’t think this sort of thing was your style”

 

“It absolutely isn’t”

 

“Good then.”

 

“I think the senator may, possibly be looking for a little outburst from us.  Something to get talked about tomorrow.”

 

“Well.  That would harly be a good idea.”

 

“I agree.  We’re too close to ending this thing now”

 

“I think, Wittiker we more or less have ended it.  I’ve instructed my lawyers to make a final offer.  I think you’ll find it more than generous”

 

“I’ll have to hear what my lawyers have to say.  But I imagine we are ont he same page”

 

“So?”

 

“So you’ll sell meyour controlling share, and we’ll be able to end this charade”

 

“Charade?”

 

“Leanna, you havn’t been seen with any man except for me for a number of years.  The press stillt hink we’re together.  Its a charade”

 

“But it is a charade that has helped me”

 

“how”

 

“Oh; You never have tried to play the games have you Witticker.  Here is the thing:  you’re family were always part of the social circle – your mother and father put you there a long time ago.  Whereas Daddy, Daddy only had money.  And out here, Money is fine, so long as you’re prepared to throw it around at the right people.  But back home – well, there are places money can’t buy entrance into.  And that means there are people I don’t get the opportunity to talk too.  Unless, well, unless they think I have gained access another way”

 

“So by letting them think we are still an item”

 

“They still invite me to be part of their set”

 

“But that will have to come to an end soon”

 

“Whittiker.  In a few weeks time, everyone will know that I’m the successful businesswoman who saved Cognitex and didn’t take a bit of the credit until you savagely threw me out.  I already have offers of places to go and people to work with.  And trust me, once they know I’m single, I’ll ahve my pick”

 

“You could have done that a long time ago”

 

“Maybe.  But I wanted you to suffer, Wittiker.  And I wanted you to throw as much energy into Cognitex as ou could.  When this little argument started, cognitex was still small enough to be taken over by some faceless corportation.  You could have shifted me aside and I could have faded awy.  By keeping you there,you[ve turned it into something worth more money than anybody could pay:  well,a nybody except you and me.  Now, i already have people willing to take the sock of my hands – you’ll have lots of people wanting to get their annual dividends – even if you have control.  But i’ll be able to leave with a reputation.  I’ll be able to take the media by the hand and tell them what really happened.  And you, Witticker, Richmond Holmes, will be left picking up the pieces:  You don’t even talk to your own PR department, I really don’t see how you can manage to win the worlds press over to your side – especially if you keep hiding away”

 

“And you’re telling me this now because”

 

“Because I’ve won.  because I’ve got what I want”

 

No you havn’t, Rich thought.  You’ve got the money, you’ll be able to keep youself the way you are accustomed to.  you’ll even make me look bad, cripple me a bit more in the eyes of the world.  But in all that time you’ve been keeping me working for cognitex, eeking out your fortune a little bit more, you’ve totally missed what I’m really doing.  You’ve won your game… but you’re going to miss the bigger victory.

 

“So then. What do I have to do.  How are we going to play this”

 

“Well, i was thinking, you could kiss me, and we could have a little dance.  Fr old times sake”

 

“you were”

 

“unless you want me to slap you in the face and storm out. It won’t hurt me any more, but it will give the press somethign to start sniffing out, and it will make poor little Leanna seem even more put upon when you cruelly throw me out of Cognitex next week.  I could say it was another woman, oh yess the press would eat that up.  Who have you been seen with lately… oh damn, you never go out, do you Witticker.  Well, someone here perhaps, what about her”  Leanna pointed across the room – oh no, not her, she’s with thet White fellow from Baker and Baker”

 

Ric followed leanna’s arm towards Cluade White.  And towards the woman he was reaching down to kiss.  And towards the familliar body.  and the familiar gold dress.

 

“Leanna”  Ric didn’t see Jo look up, look towards him.  “Leanna.  If thats what you want, kiss me”

 

And leanna, all angles and makeup kissed Ric with her cold hard lips, then pulled ric towards the dance floor.

 

***

 

Jo started walking to the door.  She held back her tears, but it was gettign harder to talk, to say anything

 

“Claude.  I think we had better go”

 

“Well, now, i would like to appologise for my behaviour,I’m afraid I can be a little forward, and I hope it does not hurt our business arragements. You are sill coming to the meeting tommorow?”

 

“Of course I am, and claude, really, I’m flattered.  Seriously.  But Ireally think we should leave now”

 

“Maam.  I hope this is not going to cause un any awkwardness”

 

Jo stopped outside the ballroom and looked Cluade straight int he eye

 

“Calude.  A few days ago, I wouldn’t dream anything like this could happen to me.  I still can’t.  I’m in some sort of whirl right now, the world around me keeps changing, throwing me around like a rollercoaster.  I don’t know what to think. I really don’t.  And you’re charming… and the job offer is flattering, seriously, I appreciate it all so much”

 

“Then maam’

 

“Yes Cluade”

 

“I think, what I would suggest, is you take yourself away from everything.  Give yourself some space.  Let yourself breath.  I’m not going to want you to say anything now – anything at all which isn’t a reasoned and well thought out decision.  If you still want the job, Jo, its yours.  If you might, perhaps want a drink, some time in the future, well, I’m ready to take you out and show you the time.  In the meanwhile, perhaps you might let me walk you back to your hotel.”

 

“Thank you claude”

 

“No, thank you maam.  I tell you, you might think you’re going through something crazy right now, perhaps you’re feeling a mite mixed up.  But let me tell you – you’ve got your head on straight.  Most of the girls in there are all show and drama.  You, Jo, you’re somethign special.”

 

jo smiled.  Claude was charming.  A gentleman.  And he was good looking. But mostly he was charming.  The texan drawl flowed out like molasses, sweet and good natured.

 

They walked back though the busy streets, joking, doging and ducking amongst the falling snow.

 

“you think about it.  Think about everything” Claude suggested.  Jo kikssed Claude on the cheek.

 

“I will”

 

But all Jo could think about was Ric.  Ric and Leanna.

 

Joe lay on her bed in the hotel room, while the sceene of Ric and Leanna played out in her mind.  An old friend?  A debt he had to repay?  Make up for past losses.  It was all so obvious.  Ric still wanted Leanna.  Still needed to be with her.  He had found out that leanna was in New York.  He had tried to be a gentleman, avoid Jo finding anything out.  Even bought her a present – an extravgent, fantastic present.  Ric was a gentleman… he had warned her that this couldn’t last, and she had known what was coming.  But still, Jo wanted to have one more conversation.  She knew the odds were low, that Ric was likely to be returning to some suite with Leanna.  But she lay on her bed and waited for Ric to return.

 

Jo Wept.  And still she waited.

 

***

 

Ric wanted to leave.  He wanted to follow Jo, tell her everything.  Tell her that he loved her.  Fight for her – fight Claude for her if need be. But how could he.  Locked inthe arms of Leanna, spinning soulessly across the dance floor while onlookers looked on and people around commented about how rate it was to see the young Wittiker Holmes out and about.  No.  This was for the best.

 

The best. ha!

 

If he were to run now, Leanna would see him with Jo.  Why would he be with Jo if he didn’t know her from somewhere – Leanna’s lawyers had investigators.  Everything would screech to a halt while they looked into Jo. And Jo would lead them first to Ecocentric, and then from Ecocentric to Gav and finally him.  How could he run?

 

How oculd he be with her?

 

Jo didn’t even know who he was.  Jo thought he was plain Ric Church, a guy from IT.  Maybe she had seen more to him now,a s he took her around new york, maybe she knew there were hidden depths, but how could she know how deep she ran.  And she had seen him – seen him dancing with Leanna Cavel – Leanna Cavale, the woman who had sacked her, the woman who provoked so much hatred in Jo’s eyes when she was mentioned.  How could Jo possibly get over this – unless he told her he was Witticker Holmes… but then he would have to explain that, explain how he had lied – and face up to the fact that Jo Hated Wittiker Holmes as much as she hated Leanna.  Either way he was doomed.

 

And Claude?

 

That was a surprise.  Claude had never seemed the ladies man – it appeared he was jst as shrewd an investor as Ric – taking his time to identify the perfect prize and then swooping in.  And there was nothing to complain about – for all his brash texan charm, inside he had proved time and time again to be a gentleman – a businessman that Ric was happy to work alongside.  Jo was not going to faire much better than Claude – he was a good catch, a stand up man.  If Ric couldn’t be with Jo, he was glad that Claude could.

 

Leanna looked straight into Ric.  Her eyes were cold and piecing.  They felt as if they were reaching in and untangling his pain – tisting and stretching it, exploring and upsetting it.  She smiled

 

“you really do hate to lose, don’t you Ric.  Well – perhaps this will teach you a lesson”

 

The dance came to an end.

 

Ric bowed to leanna, and made his excuses and left.

 

He did hate to lose.

 

Ric wobbled out onto the streets.  He needed air.  He needed space and time to think.  He needed not to lose.  There was a solution to this.  All he had to do was think about it calmly, rationally.  Ric had solved bigger problems – he had built Cognitex from nothing and was succeding again with ecocentric.  He had fought bigger battles – if only he could detach himself from his emotions and look at this clearly.

 

Think it though.

 

Slowly, carefully Ric began to look at the problem.

 

There was Cognitex.  It was almost a done deal… it would cost him dearly – it had already cost him dearly, but he was back in control.  And once he was back in control, he could do what he wanted.

 

Ecocentric.  That was what he enjoyed doing.  Once he had Cognitex, Ric could easily take over the reigns of ecocentric, bring the two companies closer together – hand over much of Cognitex’s day to day operations to someone else and delve deeper into his new project.

 

Leanna.  Ric could let her have her fun.  Who cared what anybody thought of him.  Ric was not a man to let words hurt him – he was a man who could put up a fight against sticks and stones.  It was only betrayal that stung, and this betrayal happened a long time ago.  Ric had already developed a scar.  and when leanna found Ric had moved his core assets over to Ecocentric, that she was going to be receiving a shell of a company – far lower in value than the markets believeds – well, then Ric would have some satisfaction.

 

Jo.  Jo was the missing piece.  And she wasn’t even a piece that was meant to be in play – she was from a totally different game set – a chequer on a backgammon board.  She was also Leann’s greatest move.  Sacking Jo had spun so many wheels into motion – had meant Ric had had to move faster and less subtly than he wanted with Ecocentric – had had meant he had almost blown everything over a matter of the heart.  And yet Leanna didn’t know – didn’t even realise what it was she had played. Jo – the Joker in the pack.  Ric was straining at the heart and strainign at the metaphore.

 

What could he do about Jo?

 

He could wait – but that would rick losing her to Claude.  Ric Liked Claudse, but he loved Jo.  It would tear him apart that she could be happy if he were not.  Yet it seemed like the solution whoich would cause the least pain all around.

 

He could tell her everything.  Who he was.  What was happening.  And perhaps that would solve all his problems, perhaps Jo would understand.  Perhaps she would smile her radient smile and forgive him, fall into his arms and enjoy the happy ending.  but it was a risk.  he had cost her her job and her confidence, lied to her, and then left her alone while he danced with another woman.  And women can betray.  Ric knew that from Leanna.  Once scorned – rightly or wrongly, they are dangerous – if he were to tell Jo everything – then jo would know too much – she would be able to take him down.  It was a risk.  Was it a risk worth taking, after everything that had happened.

 

He could find a new lie.  That was tempting.  Ric Church and Leanna – there had to be an explanation.  Why would Ric Church be in the arms of Leanna?  There were certainly possibilities – Ric was doing his old firend a favour?  Ric was trying to get somethign out of cognitex.  None sounded convincing, but with time and finesse, perhaps he could craft a story that…

no.

 

no more lies.

 

It was lying that had got Ric to this point.  Lies had cost him dearly, and by lying, he was no better than leanna all those years ago.  Leanna had said she had loved him, when all she really loved was the money.  When jo had said she loved Ric, it was ric, it was him – the reall deep down Ric, the core of the being, not the lucre-stained Witticker Holmes.  But was that Really him?  You could no more seperate Ric from Witticker than you could a something from a sonething else which funamentally must incude the first thing.  When she said “I love you to Ric” she spoke directly to Ric, but she was saying it to a lie.

 

Honesty.  The only option.  The honourable option.

 

Ric looked up.  He was standing on wall street now, had walked the legth of Manhatten in his quest to find the answer – to find out what he really believed.  Looking up at the skyscrapers Ric thought of all the words that had built this city.  All the deals.  All the truths, the half truths and the lies.  He wondered how often it was that the lies had won.  He wondered if, perhaps, tehre was no place for honesty in the world.

 

It troubled him.

 

With computers there is only honesty.  Computers do what you say.  Not what you mean.  They interpret every instruction exactly as you tell them – they are reliable and consistant.  That is why computers work.  People.  Peope are different.  if only they could be consistant.  If only they could be honourable and reliable.  Things could work so much btter.

 

It would be a struggle to convince the world of this, but one man could try on his own.

 

Ric turned on the balls of his feet and began tha long cold dark walk to midtown.

 

“Excuse me” a poorly dressed man came up to him

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any>>>” Ric patted his pockets.  No honesty.  Honesty.  That was the way.  This man was clearly in a bad way, to be out at a time like this on a night like this.  Ric removed his wallet from his pocket, and pulled out an 100 dollar bill

 

“Enjoy yourself”

 

The man looked greedily at the wallet.  “Actually,” he said pulling a pistol from under his coat, I think I would like the whole wallet

 

“Now, look” Ric was in no mood for confontation.  He had to get to Jo.  Get to Jo before Claude did.

 

“I said give me the wallet”

 

“Look, I’ll give you another hundred, but really I”

 

“You shoundna argue”

 

“But”

 

there was a loud crack, and Ric felt a coldness in his chest as he sank down to the cold, snowey floor and drifted into unconciousness.

 

***

 

Jo stayed awake all night, waiting.  Hoping.  She couldn’t sleep.  She struggled with closing her eyes, but then the thoughts began to echo back through her head, and pictures of Ric dancing with Leanna, of Claude closing in for a kiss.  They whirled around, and became brighter and stronger.  More vivid.  And so she would open her heys again, and look  once more at the ceiling, and the empty space in the bed beside her.  And she would try to keep herself occupied, playing games to distract her attention.  But each time she thought she was ready to sleep, her subconcious dragged up the old thoughts.  Ric was always there, hiding behind every thought.  Waiting to jump out.

 

Ric was more than a fairytale. He was becomming an obsession.  An obsession that kept Jo awake.  She watched the clock flick over from two to three, then three to four.  as four turned to five and crept salowly towards six Jo recognised there was no way she was ever goign to sleep.

 

That was fine.  She had nothing to do today.  Nothing to worry about.  Except, gradually poking its way though the hazy cloud of her sleep derpived mind, she knew there was something.  jo concentrated… what was it.  Something to do with Cluade -had she agreed to see him again: no… not quite.  She had agreed to see him and a lot of other people.  At the board meeting.  At Baker and baker.  That was today.

 

Fuck.  Fuckpuppies.

 

Today.

 

Jo cringed.  She was going to need a shower.  And coffee.

 

Ric wouldn’t be bringing the coffee to ther this morning.  Ric wouldn’t be bringing anything.  Because Ric, Jo surmised, was with Leanna.  Leanna Cavel, wrecker of lives.  Wrecker of Jo’s life.  Jo stumbled into the shower, and fumbled with the taps.  Fuck, she cried as the water, too hot, burned her skin.  Bugger, as she stubbed her toe on the side of the bath trying to get a better grip oin the controls.  Defeated, jo sat down int he now luke-warm spray from the shower head and tried to get a grip.  Things were going from bad to worse, and it wasn’t even 7 in the morning yet.

 

After an hour of stitting there, making no progress, not quite dozing, but not awake enough to worry about time or space, Jo got up, stepped out of the shower and narrowly avoided slipping on the soaking bathroom floor.  She looked around for a towl – there was one, sitting at the centre of the puddle.  Soacked.  Fuck it.  She walked out of the bathroom and into her bedroom.  She grabbed the  eiderdown from the floor and wrapped it around herself, half towel, half dressing gown.  Dressing gown – that would be a better choice…  Jo searched and found it, lying on the floor where Ric had torn it off her the night before.  Another experience for the memor banks – another moment of wonder, that was now a searing pain whenever she recalled it.  Why did happiness have to turn bad.  Why couldn’t Jo be pleased that she had had fun, rather than distraught that it was now over, never to occur again.

 

Right.  Board meeting.  Jo searched for her laptop.  Thank god.  That was here, and, yes – superb – working perfectly.  Some moments of luck in an otherwise dismal morning.  She closed the laptop.  How would the meeting go.  Would Ric be there?  Almost certainly not.  How could Ric explain anythign to Leanna – why would Ric want to pull himself away fromt he matrimonial bed following a reunion – what must have been a fairytail reunion for ric.  No – Ric wouldn’t be there.  Jo would have to be her own tech support.

 

God was laughing at her.

 

Right.  A plan.  First, get dressed.  I still ahve all the wonderful clothes.  Second, get coffee.  I need to be awake and ready to deal with anything the meeting is going to throw at me… no thats not going to happen – get coffee with extra shot of esspresso – I need to be at least vaguely concious for the duration of the meeting:  way to go, girl, make your plans realistic and acheivable.  Finally, get a taxi to the offices. Once you’re there, give a half-decent presentation, and trust the Claude will be on my side.  Hope that Clausde will be on  my side.  Hope that I didn’t inm some way emmasculate claude last night and that he doesn’t hate me.  Get taxi to airport.  Find a flight and get the hell out of new york.

 

***

 

“Hes stable” – the surgeon removed his mask, and looked down at the bullet in the tray.  It had been a hard operation, but his skillful hands had managed to stem the blood flow. “Still no signs of consciousness.  Some monior cranial damage.  Some chance of a persistant vegetative state.”

 

He looked at the body’s hands.  The finely manacured nails

 

“Does anybody know who this guy is?”

 

“Found on the street” an assistant replied.  “No Id, no wallet.  lt looks like it was a mugging gone bad”

 

“damn.  Well, I’ve done what I can for him.”

 

***

 

Jo didn’t look bad.  Seeing her reflection looking back at her in the mirror, Jo marveled at how the right clothes and tidy hair can hide even some of the deepest emotional scars.  Inside she was hurting, upset, confused, but on the outside she looked… presentable.  Normal… maybe some signs of a late night aroud the eyes, but nothing ot show that the soul had been shredded by Whittiker Holmes.

 

Why was she doing this again?

 

For Gav?  Maybe, but it seemed a lot to ask.  For ecocentric – perhaps.  For Ric, not a chance… so why… For herself… to prove that Jo was capable of something on her own.  Maybe.  Maybe that would come out of this.

 

Or maybe, just maybe she would fail.  And prove everybody else right.

 

***

 

Starbucks.  Home of solitude, home of peace, home of highly caffinated beverages.  Jo joined the queue and was quickly greeted by a barrisata who seemed a little bit to awake for this time in the morning “How can I help you today?”

 

“Emmm.  Coffee”  Jo flinched.  Starbucks.  Remember to order the Starbucks way.  “Erm right.  Venti ingerbread Latte, extra shot. Skinny”  She looked up at the barristra expectanctly?  had she got it right.  When did coffee come from something black and sludgy in a mug, to a complicated test you had to take before you were allowed to stand and wait for it to be handed to you.  Jo walked a couple of yards to the left and and waited for the coffee to behanded to her.  “Venti Gingerbread Skinny Latte” – it felt like forever before those words were called, her eyes were drooping again, and she was readying herself to entre into the world of the microsleep.

 

Right.  Mind off the presentation, Jo thought.  Need to distract myself for a few minutes, help myself get centred.  Jo looked aorund at the notice board – nothing there, then at the rack of newspapers.  She picked one and took it with her to a vacant table.

 

Jo sipped her coffee.  Then blew at it “too hot”  she placed her bag onto the table and propped the newspaper up on top of it.  How long before the meeting?  She looed at her watch.  30 minutes.  Well, the building was across the street.  Just enough time for the coffee.  She began to sip the bitter nectar of Java.  And gradually, she felt stonger, and caffine induced wakefulness started pushing aside the worrying clouds of drwsyness.  She smiled.  Feeling more prepared now.  She took another long draft.  The coffee was cooler now, she was further down the cup.  Jo turned the page int he newspaper – maybe there was something in the social pages about Ric – well, About Witticker Holmes.  She flicked through and…

 

FUCK!

 

Jos coffee – Jo’s Joe went flying as a fat besuited mand carrying a large tray of beveradges backed into her table.  It soaked through the paper, soacked through Jo’s blouse. Jo funbled with the empty cup, while the business man offerred loud, voricorous and entirely useless appologies.  Not now, not – jo looked at her wathc – not 10 minutes before the boad meeting.  Jo looked at the brown coffee stain on there shirt.  and mopped as much dry as she could with the remainder of the newspapers, ads barristas rushed by to see if thgey could manage any of the cleanup.  Jo didn’t notice amongst the coffee soaked pages of the new york times a photo of a dishevelled looking Ric, and the headline “Mystery Man In Coma”.

 

Her laptop bag dripped.

 

***

 

Jo pulled her coat tightly over her shirt – it hid half the stain, but was not sufficient.  She hurried across the road – joining the Jaywalkers and ignoring the traffic – and into the lobby of the Baker and Baker building.  Still modern, still pristine – somehow uqiter and clamer than Jo felt inside.  She walked up to the reception and anounced herself to the recptionisht

 

“Hi, I’m Jo Vickers from Ecocentrc.  I have an appointment with Claude White”

 

The receptionist nodded and looked down at her schedule.  She looked up aagain beeming a big Smile.  “Mr White will be with you in a few moments, Miss Vickers.  In the meantime, could I get you anything to drink”

 

Jo blushed.  “No.  I’ve had enough coffee for today”  She pulled her coat tighter around her.  This was going to be a disaster.

 

The time waiting felt like an eternity.  As Jo watched the second hand on the wall clock it seemed to move more slowly with each tick, and slower still with each tock, grinding closer and closer to a complete halt each time Jo thought of having ot give the presentation. She was beyond flustered now, beyond embarassed.  Jo had reached hopelessness, the point fromt which there was no return.  Any moment now, Jo thought, sahe would be save from the meeting – not by anything happeneing to help her, but by the onset of the next Ice Age.  Had it really only been six minutes.

 

“Miss Vickers”

 

Jo recognised the sweet texan drawl.  I bought you these flowers by way of appology for any inproprietry on my part”

 

Jo smiled “Thanks Claude.  Really, there was no need.  You were a perfect gentleman”

 

“I sincerely hope thats true, Miss Vickers”

 

“Jo.”

 

“Jo it is then.  So, Jo, May I take your coat?”

 

jo pulled the buttons tighter.

 

“now, Jo.  Its warm up in the office, you don’t need to be shy”

 

Jo relented and unbuttoned the coat, pulling it open to reveal her coffee soaked clothing.

 

“Well then.  I can see why you thought you needed to be shy.  But this is a problem I can fix.  One moment”

 

Claude walked over to the receptionist, and began talking to her.  Jo could see him relaxing, and falling into the same charming body language he had used with her as he started explainign the problem to the receptionist.  She watched his hands as he gesticulated, calm, confident, storng gestures.  Then he pointed towards a coffee cup,m and to the recptionist’s shirt.  The receptionist nodded in agreement, and left the desk into a back room.

 

Oh no.  This couldn’t be the answer.  Jo couldn’t allow this.  She rushed over to Claude

 

“You can’t ask the receptionist to do that”

 

“I can’t?  You forget that I’m a fairly important person here at Baker and Baker”

 

“But not her shirt.  I can’t take her shirt.”

 

“Her shirt?  OH you think…  Maam, I would not be so crass as to request any woman remove her clothing for me – well, except perhaps once I was in wedlock.  I meerly asked Susan if she would be so kind as to bring me a cup of coffee”

 

“A cup of coffee?”

 

“Indeed.  Ah- thankyou susan.”  Claude took the offered cup of coffee from susan “Could you fetch a cloth or a mop?”

 

Susan scurried away again.

 

“You see…” Claude threw the coffeee over his shirt.  “The coffee here isn’t really fit for drinking – it gets left to get cold.  But once in a while, there can be a freak accident, someone trips, the coffee leaves their hands, gets poured over a hardworking executive and the potential business contact he is meeting.  Its very embarassing, of course, once this sort of thing gets explained to the board… but tis embarassing for the board – less so for you.”

 

jo smiled and laughed.  “You’re an amazing man, Claude.  I can’t believe you would do that for me”

 

“Shucks.  You have a hard enough job convincing these fellows to use your software – I’ve been here over a decade, still havn’t convinced them to let us buy drinkable coffee.  Now lets go to the board room”

 

***

 

The board room was high up the building and empty.  The wondows looked out over the street, out over the hustle of the traffic – and out over the starbucks where the troubles had started.  Started?  Well, where they had multiplied.  A large table and comfortable chairs, supported a  projector pointing at a large white cinema screen.  Clausd lowered the blinds, cutting off the outside world and natural light, and flicked a switch to turen on the desk level lighting.

 

“Miss Vickers”

 

“Jo”

 

“I’m sorry, Miss… Jo.  It never feels right to be informal in a business situation like this.  I’ll let you get on with setting things up.  If you need anything, just holler on the phone”

 

 If I need anything?  How about Ric.  How about someone who knows how to work these things?

 

“I’ll be fine” Jo lied.

 

Claud smiled, and nodded and left the room.

 

Right projector -that must turn on… Jo fiddled with the buttons, until severl lit up.  But still no light.  Perhapos there is soemthign else I need to do.  Jo lifted the projector up.  She looked to see if it was plugged in.  It weas fine.  Why wasn’t there any light coming out?  Perhaps, Jo thought, she unplugged the projector’s power cord – the lights on the buttons turnedoff.  She plugged the power cord back in.  Still no lights.  She pressed a few buttons.  Randomly now. her heart was beating faster – twenty mintues and nothing but a dead projector.  Had the bulb gone?  Jo had heard about people saying projector’s bulbs went. What could she do- maybe she could look int he front and see?  Jo walked around to the fron of the projector and peared at the bulb.  She saw the problem instantly.  The lens cap was still on.  Jo removed the cap and was blinded momentarrily by the white light that came streaming out.

 

White light – she tunred around to see the projecteer ligting up the screen, and her shadow casting a shiloette against it.  She hads succeeeded.  She had made the damn thing work.  It was a success. She could… Jo didn’t want to tempt fate but… she migh tjust be able to do this.

 

Jo opened her laptop case, and brushed the coffee that had sunck through fromt he laptop.  She located some wirtes on the projector, and proceeded to attempt to fit them into every hole on the side of the laptop until they eventually seemed to fit.

 

She hit the power button.

 

The screen flickered.  And then a “phut” noise rang out thought the room.  Black smoke drifted up from thelaptop – there was an acrid smell – bitter, tinged with… gingerbread.

 

the late.  In the computer.  It must have.

 

Jo sat down on the floor.

 

The computer had been ruined.

 

The presentation had been ruined.

 

All hope had gone.  This was it.  The end.  No Ric.  No presentation.  And there was no way Clause would give her another chance.

 

So Sat in silence, and waited for the inevitable.

 

After a number of minutes had pass3ed, Jo headed a knock on the door, she turned to see Claude pokin ghis head through a gap

 

“Miss… Jo.  I was wondering if you were nearly ready”

 

“Jo turned to Claude” he could probably see that she had been crying, Jo thought, but perhaps the darkness might hide it

 

“Claude.  I have soemthign I need to tell you…”

 

“You do”

 

“My computer I’m…”  Jo was about to confess when a spark lit in her mind.  A memory – it was only a couple of days ago, but it felt like a lifetime.

 

“Claude, can you give me two seconds”

 

Certainly, Jo”

 

jo ran out of the boardroom, and down the corridoor.  She looked though each window until she saw an office.  She peered through the window.  Excellent – computers.  This might just work.  She turened around “Calude.  I’m going to need some screwdrivers.  Do you use cognitex here?”

 

“Cognitex?  I think so.  Just one second and I’ll sort out the screwdrivers for you”

 

Jo rushed through the office, and out the door on the other side.  There was a waiting room.  In it sat the irritable Gentleman from the klobby.  Sitting downm, fuming under his breath.

 

“Excuse me sir, I don’t know if you would happen to have an external drive for a laptop”

 

He looked at Jo as if she was an idiot “.What just on me.  Perhaps in my suit pocket? Who do you think I am, Witticker Holmes?”

 

Witticker Holmes.  Oh God.  Witticker Holmes.  Ric.  Why couldn’tr Ric be here.  Ric knew how to do this.  Jo was just flailing around.  She began to cry, just thinking about Ric.  She turned and ran back into the office, away from the suited git’s sarcasm.

 

***

 

Calm.  Calm.  Focus.  Get throught this.  One step at a time.  Don’t let Claude know whow much you’re suffering.  Just keep plugging away.  Wou saw Ric Do this.  Ric… No Focus.

 

Cluade entred the room.  he handed a set of screwdrivers to Jo.  She snatched them away from his grip, and felt a playful resistance which infuriated her even more.  Couldn’t he see she was bluffing.  No, apparently he couldn’t .  Claude was looking on in:  what was it?  Admiration?

 

Jo dug around in the screwdrivers and removed the laptop’s case.  Inside was a maze of cables, wires and circuitry.  But there was also soemthing that looked like the disk Ric had removed from her computer.  She snatched it up and disconnected it.  “Right, I’m going to need to use one of the computers in the office Jo said.” Claude followed, watching carefully.

 

Jo strode into the office and claude pointed her at a machine.

 

“Does anybody have an external drive connecter” Jo shouted

 

A few people in the office looked up, and one – a younge pale boy, nineteen or twenty – lookign much like Jo assumed Ric must have in hisd yourth ran over

 

“This ought to…”

 

“Thanks”./  Jo took the box.  It didn’t look the same as the one Ric used, but maybe it was sufficicent.  She opened it, and placed her drive inside.  Screwing it up, jo prayed that it would work.  She plugged it into the computer and looked at the screen.  Right, run cognitex…

 

Dear god.  Please amke the computer do the thing that Ric made the computer Do.  Dear God, please let things work.  Dear god. God.  Oh my God.

 

Cognitex Recovery

 

Recovering Lost Data

 

Please wait…

 

The hourglass span, around and around.  The percentage complete crept up.  40%  60%  77% 82% 94% 99%

 

Complete.  Data Recovered.

 

Jo turned around.  Claude was watchig intently.  Nodding in a manner Jo recognised – in the manner she would nod whenever anybody came to her computer and tried to show her what to do

 

“Cluade… you wouldn’t happen to have a laptop I could rum my presentation on, would you?”

 

“Certainly”

 

Claude walked from the office, quickly returning with the approprate hardware – a sleek loooking vaio, all black glossy plastic and brushed aluminium.  Jo transferred the files and started up powerpoint.  Success her presentation was on the screen.

 

Did I really do that? On my own?

 

Clause walked Jo back to the board room

 

“Jo.  I hope I’m not being a little, well, impolite when I say this, but I am truely impressed.  When you arrived with a technical guy, I thought to myself, well – so what – everyone has problems with computers.  But you really know your stuff – you seem to know the insides of all of everything.  What I just saw you do is, well amazing.  I can’t count the number of times I’ve had presentations fail on me and I’ve just had to chalk and talk it, or make my appologies.  COmputers hate me”

 

“They hate you?”

 

“Absolutely.  But you have a knack.  It really wasn’t something I expected.  Where did you come from before ecocentric?”

 

“Cognitex”

 

“Ah – that explains it.  Maam, you are a genius.  They must have been sorry to see you go”

 

“You wouldn’t belive”

 

“I shurely would”

 

Jo plugged the laptop into the projector.  her slide flashed to light on the cinema screen

 

“I think we’re ready”

 

“Ready?”  Jo had forgotten about the meeting.  All ther worried had been about getting the technology right.  Getting it working.  Which she had.  on her own.  Without any help from Ric.  Without any help from anybody.  “yes.  I’m ready”

 

Ready for anything.

 

***

 

Jo looked up at the assembled board.  They werte looking back at her, all absorbed, taking notes, listening to each and every word.  And, she hoped, from what she could see of their movements, their body language, they way they reaxcted, beliving everything she said – assimilating it into their world view

 

“…the costs of implementing an ecocentric system will pay for themselves in less that a year – and you will be palying your own part in avoiding the cost to your children and your children’s children of gloabl warning.  Ecocentric – for right now, and forever!”

 

The CEO stood up and waled over to Jo.

 

“Jo.  I think you’ve given us a good idea of what Ecocentric has to offer.  But now, if I may, I want to question you”

 

“Fire away”

 

“So… I’ve heard about the paperless office for years, is it really possible”

 

“The idea isn’t to get rid of paper.  its to make sure you onlyuse papoer when its the best solution – and to avoid you having to move vast quantities of paper around, or to store vast quantities of paper”

 

“But paper last for hundreds of years.  Computers – well, computers crash”

 

“You know.  i would have said the same thing.  But today I was in an accident.  Jo looked down at  the coffeee stainign her blouse, and there was a general murmering of laughter amongst the assembled board.  “I was reading a newspaper at the time.  The paper was ruined, unreadable.  But the coffee also got into my laptoip.  It took time for me to repair it, but here we are now, you’re seeing my presentation – with absolutely no coffee stains.  Now,…” Jo was on fire, the board were eating it up “if i wanted to know what was in the newspaper, I could get another copy.  they make thousands of copies every day – but if I wanted a apaer from 10 years ago,m I would have to head over to a libaray with a huge archive – despite the fact paper is copied, copies vanish because the costs of storage are huge – financially anfd ecologically.  With data, liek my presentation, storage space is negligable – and you can keep many copies on many different continents if need be.  All avail;able through ecocentric at the touch of a button, or the flick of a switch.  If we had had ecocentric available in this office – on your computers, I would have been able to get my presentation back in almost no time”

 

“So can we trust ecocentric.  You’re a small company – how do we know you’ll last”

 

“Really, who can you trust?  There are two types of people, Mr <add CEO name here>:  there are people who desparately want to be part of something bigger than they are, and there are people who want to go it alone.  You might think the people who go it alone do that becasue they don’t trust anybody.  thats not the case – they trust themselves – and they realise that they are uniquely able to adapt to changing situations.  The people who like to be part of something bigger – they don’t adapt – they stay paralysed by a lack of any need to move.  They stay wrapped up in a comfort zone, no adaptation needed.  And then one day, when a big problem – a problem noone has ever seen before arises, noone knows how to handle it – noone knows how to stand on their own two feet.  Ganeltement, ecocentric knows how to stand on its own two feet.  It knows how to stuggle.  And it knows who its customers are.  Ecocentric will  be fighting to keep you happy because ti wants to be a success – and ecocentric can only be a success if it solves every problem you have to the best of its ability.  Would you put your trust in a company that puts its trust in hundreds of other people – hundreds of falibal people, hundreds of weak links in the chain, or would you rather put your trust in someone who is prepared to prove themselves time and time again – and someone who isn’t afraid to change if what they are doing stops working.

 

I’m not saying that small is better.  im saying: don’t trust us – but work with us.  And trust that we need to work with you, so you’ll be getting the best we can possibly give you.”

“That, Miss Vickers, is a highly impressive answer.  And I’m inclined to agree.  You talk good talk, and Clause, Clause was babbling on about your technical ability.  Now Miss Vickers, you’re in marketing, not tech, right”

 

“Absolutely”

 

“But you seem to know more about technology than anybody in thei room.  I’m guessing that holds true for the rest of your company?”

 

“Well – they all know more than me.  Some of the things they know…”

 

“I’m sure.  I think we can start a trial of Ecocentric as soon as you can get some of you guys here to install it”

 

“You mean”

 

“I think we have a deal, Miss Vickers.”

 

A deal…  Jo had achived a deal.  She had sold a system.  On her own.  Without support.  Without help.  Just jo.  It was new feeling. Jo walked out of the boardroom with a grin on her face, through the waiting room, where the arrogant man still sat.  he looked up at her, fuming under his breath.  Jo shot him a bright smile and carried on her way.  No longer walking on the offices rich blue carpet, but rather on a cloud forged from success, and endorphins.

 

Claud hurried after her.

 

“Jo…”

 

“Claude?”

 

“Before you leave”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I was wondering if you had thought any more about”

 

“Cluade.  thankyou.  I’m flattered.  I don’t know… well, I don’t know what I’m doing any more.  I think I just need to pause.  To get back to london.  Think things through.  I think that this time I’m going to have to make a rational decision.  I’ve let my heart win in the past and thats just left me with trouble”

 

“You, Miss Vickers, are an incredibly smart woman.  Whichever choice you make its sure to be the right one.  I just hope…”

 

“Thanksyou Claude.  I’ll call you”

 

“You bet!”

 

***

 

Fortesque Square.  Where it all started.  Jo looked over at the fountain.  This was meant to be her triumphant return.  This was ment to be where the champage corks poped and everyone celebrated their first customer – their first huge success.  This was emant to be the time when everybody praised jo, and Jo look looked down sheepishly and said she couldn’t have done it without all you guys – while knowing dseep down that this was all due to her, and enjoying the adulation.  But today was going ot be nothing like that. The fountain was empty now.  It was only a fe months ago that Jo had been sitting there whena stranger approached her and handed her a card – how much things had changed in the last few days  A few days ago she didn’t know who he was, then he was Ric the IT guy who left postits, t he was Ric,,t he talented and sensual lover with a mysterious past.  Then he was Wittker – the man that everybody thought they knew – and that almost knowone knew as well as Jo.  And then… then he was Wittiker, dancing with Leanna, and never returning.  Wittike Holmes ahd been responsible for abandoning her twice.  Twice, in favour of Leanna.

 

Jo let her gaze drift over towards the cognitex building.  She looked up at hits hight – somewhere up there, she thought, Ric is sitting n his office, probably with leanna, thinking about what had occured, and not even questioning how hurt I might be.  And Leanna, well, leanna is proibably just being impossibly thin and impossibly happy that she has got back her man.

 

She let her gaze dripf down, past the flor on which she worked, and towards the lobby – towards Bob the doorman, and towards the entrance hall which always displayed the big corporate branding pop-ups.

 

Her gaze passed away, then shot back as she took in the pop ups… they were… they were very familiar.

 

jo ran over towards the Cognitex builidng

 

“Cognitex – because without it computers will hate you”

That was…

 

that was Jo’s slogan.

 

It was all very familiar.  Not quite Jo’s work, but all drawn from her notes, all drawn from the documents that she was going to pitch to Leanna.

 

So – not content with getting rid of Jo and stealing her man, Leanna also wanted to steal Jo’s work.

 

Jo had half a mind to walk in there and compllain.  Make a fuss.  Demand to see someone.  but what would happen, if she was successful?  Jo would get to talk to who – to Leanna?  That would probably end badly.  To seeRic – that would never happen -and if it did, well, Jo wouldn’t be able to see him anyway, not behind the tears.  Not yet.

 

What would Ric do, Jo thought to herself.  He wouldn’t be defeated by something like this.  He knew that just after your rivals had defeated you was exactly the right time to turn things to his advantage.  Was there a way that Jo could learn from all this, a way she could come out a winner.

 

Gradually a smile grew across her face, and jo turned and walked towards theEcocentric building.  This time – this time Jo would showeveryone just what it was she could do.

 

***

 

“Gav?”

 

jo peaked around thew door into Gav’s office.  Gav was sitting behind the computer screen, trying ot avoid Jo’s glance

 

“the traveller returns.  It wen’t well?”

 

“In some ways”

 

Gav sat in slience.  Jo waited for him the speak, but Gav said nothing

 

“not even a well done?”

 

“jo.  I feel really bad about asking you…”

 

“About Claude?”

 

“yes. Sorry”

 

“no need.  Claude was fantastic”

 

Gave breathed a sigh of relief.  He looked up, looked at Jos face.  Jo was averting her eyes too.  And she had lost her sparkle

 

“jo.  Whats wrong”

 

“Ric”

 

“Ric?”

 

“Witticker fucking bloddy Homes”

 

“Ric.  Right.”

 

“Tell me Gav.  I’m right, arn’t I.  This is Ric’s company right?”

 

“Well, technically, according to the articles of association”

 

“Gav?”

 

“Well.  Deep down.  If you ignore the leagalese, then, yes”

 

“So that  had somewhere to go after the breakup with leanna”

 

“Yes”

 

“And its a good technology”

 

“It is a fantastic technology.”

 

“it works”

 

“It does indeed work”

 

“So I did nothing wrong in convincing Baker and Baker to buy it”

 

“Nothing at all.  Jo I was really very impressed”

 

“That isn’t the problem”

 

“Then what is it Jo.  Talk to me”

 

“I can’t work here any more”

 

“you can’t work here any more?  Jo?  You’re doing amazingly.  You’ve turned this company around – seriusly, we had a great product before you got hewre, but we didn’t know who we are.  You’ve sorted thet.  You’ve single handedly turned ecocentric into a business – stopped it just being a technology.  jo.  We need you”

 

“And by ‘We’ ultimately you mean Ric”

 

“Jo.  I need you”

 

“Thats sweet gav.  Really.  I appreciate it.  Biut in the end it’s ric who benefits”

 

“ric will benefit a lot”

 

“Then, I’m afraid I’m going ot have to hand in my notice.”

 

“Well.  Look.  If there is ever anything I can do for you…”

 

“Yes. Next time you see Ric, tell him that I really thought I could love him – and after seeing him at that ball, I think I would prefer it if he was dead”

 

“well, he’s been rather off the radar for the last few days – I guess he’s settling up some of the legal issues>  but when he gets back”

 

“When he gets back, you can tell hin to turn right round and go to Hell.”

 

“I will.  Jo – nothing i can say to change your mind?”

 

“No. But I’ll call you in a few weeks.  Let you know whats going on”

 

Jo  spun on a heel and left the office.  She hummed as the lift slowly took her down to the entrance lobby, and grinned as she walked out into Fortesque suare.  Here seems as fitting as anywhere, Jo thought as she sat down by the fountain and looked out at thesky scrapers surrounding it.  Cognitex and Ecocentric, what a year.  She pulled her phone out of her pocket andpulled up a number.  She hit dial and waited forit to be answered.

 

“Claude.  Its Jo.  Listen – that offer you made me:  well, i have an offer of my own… you might want to fly me back out to new york so I can make it in person”

 

***

 

Ric opened his eyes.  At first things were unclear.  The light was bright, certainly and he had a feeling that he had seen this before.  Looking to his left he noticed a bedside table, bedecked with a glass bowl containing an apple, some oranges and far too many grapes.To his right, the floor was covered with bunches of flowers.  It began to come back to him.  First, the mugging – which had been rather civilised to begin with, then the pain and the realisation that he had been shot.  Finally, the darkness, the heat and then the fleeting glimpes of conciousness as he opened his eyes and tryed to understand exactly what was happening.  Each time his eyes opend for longer and he learned more and more about what had been happeneing around him.

 

The room was empty, but chairs showed that there had been visitors who had obviously waited for a while.  A coat hung from one – a winter coat, so not too much time could have passed.  But the room felt oddly unseasonal.  The windowlarge picture window let the paitent see nothing but the sky (which was coudy with little flecks of blue), and the bright lights hid exactly how much sunlight we being let in.  Ric could only really that that it was daytime by the fact the curtains were opened.

 

He was feeling stronger, but still knew nothing of what had happened.  he tried to stand up, get out of thew bed, but his arms were feeble, and unable to lift him from his prone position.  A door opened a crack and a man entered.  Ric tired to focus on his face.  Gav?

 

“Ric?  Are you awake?”

 

“Gav”

 

“shh, Ric, be quiet.  You’re in hospital.  You don’t have to do anything”

 

“I was mugged”

 

“Tey say you were shot – that you were lucky to be alive.  Had the bullet gone an inch further to the left, you woudl have died”

 

Ric tried to struggle, to move and find out what had happened.  He wanted to grab Gav by the shoulders and shake him until everything that had happened came out.  But he couldn’t summon up the energy.  It was going to be a long, slow, procress, the gradual recovery.

 

“One questionGav.  What Date is it?”

 

“Its early february, Ric.  You’ve been out for a couple of months”

 

***

 

“How is he”

 

“Hes doing fine.  I’m glad you could make it.”

 

“Of course I could.  When I heard what had happened…”

 

“Yeah”

 

“Look.  He’s stilla bit fragile.  I’ll go in and talk to him.  He’s been asking about you.  And I couldn’t tell him.  Not reall.  Not without you to explain”

 

“What?”

 

“Just let me speak.  I’ll call you when you can come in”

 

Ric pushed the door to Rics room open.  Jo waited outside.  She pressed her ear against the beige plastic coating of the door and listened in

 

“Jo told me to give you a, um, message”

 

“she did?”

 

“She um said, she hoped you died, and um that you would be beteer off in hell”

 

Jo’s face dropped, she burst into the room.  “Gav!”

 

Ric was sitting up in bed, and the pair were laughing.

 

“she did, did she?” Ric asked, looking pointedly at Jo

 

“I..err.. weell.. to be fair, you had just been dancing with Leanna.  And then not comback to the hotel.”

 

“Because I was in hospital.  In surgery.  On the edge f death”

 

“If you hadn’t been, I might have been inclined to do the shooting myself”

 

“Yes.  It wasn’t my finest moment, I’ll grant you.”

 

“Some old friend, you were goign t see”

 

“Now there  have to stop you JO.  Now, iassume by know that gav has told you that I am Witticker Holmes.  It wasn’t my finest moment deceiving you about my identity, but you seemed to hate me – or some image of me so veremently that I couldn’t bring myself to tell you who  really was.  I’m sorry for the deceipt.  I was totaly honest about who I was visiting:  It was senator friedmann – who was indeed an old friend of mine”

 

“Was?”

 

“Yes was.  He managed to arrange to get you and I to new york.  And he invited me to a ball, I couldn’t very well say no.  Unfrotunately, it seems that it was his idea of a joke to invite Leanna Cavel too”

 

“You’re ex wife!”

 

“My ex-what? Good god no.  Leanna isn’t and never has been my wife”

 

“Ex girlfirned then”

 

“That is, unfortunately, true”  But it was a very long time ago

 

“But yopu danced with her at the ball”

 

“Leanna is a very… complicated lady.  She likes to be seen as being in control.  When I left her, she was never quite able to admit it – admit that I had seen through her carefully polished exterior.  She saw it as a weakness, a flaw.  So she asked me not to mention it.  And she took advantage of the fact I was trying to avoid and more society – takign up invitations to parties on my behalf.  It was conveneient, so for the past eight years, I let it go.  We were seen together, occasionally, at events I really had to attend, but there has been no more to it than that.  Frankly, if I could avoid that odious witch,t hen by god I would”

 

“Thenwhy do you employ her.  Why keep her around”

 

“Because Leanna Cavel, is the daughter of Frank Cavel.  When I started cognitex I needed funds to grow it – I think I may have told you some of this stry before.  The man I turned to was a friend of my fathers – Frank Cavel.  Frank was the ideal silent partnet, he just sat back and let me got on with the process of building the business.  The only concession I made was o employ his Daughter, Leanna.  And it wasn’t much of a concession we we both young, and she was beautiful, if you like that whole ice-amiden – and, back then, I very much did.  She got a job and we started dating.  It lasted just long enough for Frank to die.  She had a hard time with the death, and our relationship ran its natural course – I had come to see that below the surface she was a spiteful bitch… although also a superb marketing executive – she had an eye for flair.  But there lay the problem – Frank owned just under half of the company – and he left it all to Leanna.  Leanna has accumulated her own shares in the course of her employment.  All told, it meant leanna owned more of Cognitex than I did.  I had lost my company – and there was no way I would be able to sack h.  Leanna didn’t want to be CEO – in fact she realised it was very important to the cognitex berand that I was seen to be running the business – and when she saw the results I was delivering, she realised it made financial sense too.  So she was happy to head a world leadig companie’s marketing department and leave the rest to me.”

 

“So the lawyers”

 

“I’ve wanted to sort this out – but Leanna knew the company could still grow with me at the helm.  Given the chance, I would have sold my stake and walked away years ago – but Leanna promised, if I stuck with the company and raised its share price beyond a certain level, she would sell me back control.  We were trying to sort things out, when I had a fantastic idea for a new product – the technology that underlies ecocentric – it would revolutionise computing the way cognitex did back in the day.  But I didn’t want Leanna getting her hands on her share – or worse spinning it off into a company that she controlled before she handed cognitex back to me.  I was stuck – if I didn’t move now the technology would go nowhere.  If I did, then I might lose it all together.  This was worse than anythign else Leanna had cost me – losing control of the company – that I could take, but not being able to take my ideas and develop them – not being able to express myself the way that came naturally – that was worse than being dead.

 

Gave was my saviour.  Gav found me when I was at my lowest ebb, and between us we hatched an idea.  We set up another company to develop ecocentric – all in Gav’s name.  If I was seen to be workign there, if I was seen to be at all involved, it would be the end – I would have broken my contract with Leanna and the company would revert to her.  So Gav slowly but surely built Ecocentric up, while I tried to get Congnitex back under by control.  And every so often I went over and gave the ecocentric guys a hand – but only in the dead of night when Leanna wouldn’t be around asking questions”

 

“Which is why you only ever fixed things in the evenings”

 

“Exactly.  If leanna had ever known what IU was doing”

 

“It would have all been over.”

 

“But things were worse.  Leanna had been watching you.  You were a threat to her.  She knew your ideas were good – they made you stand out from the crowd.  In a department that she wanted to rule with an iron fist, She couldn’t keep you around – especially as your ideas didnt quite fit in with hers.  So when I sent down a cross-the-board cost sutting initiative, she chose to get rid of the person who had been drawing attention to her.  Once you were out, Leanna continued to keep an eye on you.  Your work was good, and she didn’t want one of our competitors snapping you up.  So she was surpised, and intrigued when you joined Ecocentri – she hadn’t heard about them, and wanted to find out what this new startup was up to.  She even suggested top me that I look into aquiring them.  Unfrotunately, I haD TOLD HER THAT IT MADE NO SENSE – that there was nothing in ecocentric we couldn’t develop ourselves.  Which woud mean that if she actuaslly saw me with you – fratenising with anyone from ecocentric, she might smell a rat, and start looking more closely.  Had she found out before she signed the company over to me, we would be dead in the water – and I would lose everything.”

 

“And now”

 

“While we were in new york, the lawyers were finalising things.  My vanishing upset Leanna, she thought I was playing a game, but when she found out I was in hospital, see signed her side of the papers and I signed mine.  I’m back in control of Cognitex.  At least, I’m as much in control as I can be lying here”

 

“and you couldn’t tell me”

 

“jo.  i don’t do relationships.  You are the second woman I’ve felt anything for in my life.  Ands I wanted to tell you – I was on my way to tell you when, when I was hsot.  But I’ve had BAd luck before.  Knowone coudl know – well, noone except Gav… until you.”

 

Jo bowed her head

 

“But I’ve got somethign to ask you, jo” Ric continued ” I hear you’re not with ecocentric any more.  And my spies tell me yopu’ve been seen working for Baker and Baker on their publicity”

 

Jo looked up sheepishly

 

“And that you’ve been seen around and about with Claude White”

 

“I can expl…”

 

You don’t have to.  I behaved abominably.  I should have told you the truth fromt the start.  I was as bad as Leanna.  Worse.  And Claude is a good man.  If he makes you happy…”

 

“No.  I can explain aboutBaker and Baker.  They offered me a Job – and Claude offered me more – a shoulder to cry on and arms to hug me.  But in the colde light of day, looking at the fountain on Fortesque square I realised what you had said to me that day was right”

 

“What I said to you”

 

“That I shoudl go it alone.  So I called Claude and I told him that I would be honoured to work for Baker and Baker – so long as they employed me on a consultancy basis.  And as for his offer of a relationship – I told him I was looking for friendship and nothing more -that I felt like going it alone for a while”

 

“In which case, Jo, I’ve got to tell you that I gt it wrong”

 

“Pardon”

 

“Going alone.  I’ve tried it for too long, and its got me nowhere.  It was only when I trusted Gav that I was able to get myself back on my feet.  I didn’t want to be paert of Cognitex any more, but I couldn’t possibly have done it on my own.  Then when I tried to go alone with you – to avoid lettign you into my life and my problems, I l;ost you.  Jo.  Belive in youself.  Realise that you are being held back when other people don’t belive in you as much as you do.  but never, never, go it alone when you have the choice – when you have the opportunity to go with someone who loves you – or who might love you.  Like Claude”

 

“Like Claude?”

 

“Liek Claude.  Or Like me”

 

Jo’s face blossed into a smile.  He red lips reached up towards her brown sparkling eyes.

 

“I’m glad you think like taht Ric, because I could never go it alone any more.  There is going to be a part of you in me for a long time to come.  In here”  Jo pointed to her abdomen

 

“Don’t you mean in here” Ric asked, pointing towards his heart

 

“No”.  Jo opened her coat and let it fall to the flor.  “In here” she indicated her stomach, where Ric could see a bump emerging from above the top of her elasticated waistband.

 

“So would you consider working on this project together?”

 

“A partnership”

 

“or perhaps a merger”

 

Jo waled over to Ric and hugged him tightly.  This was right  This was forever.  “Ric winced at the pain when Jo tocuhed his scar.  But it was a pain he wanted to fewel, wanted to endure, becuase he too wanted tis embrace, this union, to last for ever and beyond.  His past was behind him, the lies were washed away and a new begining was gestating – a new life.  A family.  He would never be able to go it alone again, nor would he ever want to.

 

One of my hobbies, and indeed one of my learned skills (as opposed to inherent strengths) is public speaking.  At some point I got it into my head that if an introvert like me could learn to speak, so, perhaps, could all introverts.  This book became a manifesto both for how to speak well in public, but also how introverts can use the skills that come more naturally to them to be considered a great speaker and communicator by their colleagues.  My intention was to try publishing this via LeanPub, getting feedback and improving it as I went.  This explains the formatting (it’s all in markdown).  But I never quite got around to finishing the copy editing. This book was originally written as a series of articles, and there amy well still be artifacts of this somewhere in the text that need to be taken out.

I’m still planning on doing something with this.  I recently flipped the switch so you can go to LeanPub and buy a copy for your kindle – and get any future improvements for free.

# Public Speaking For Quiet People

Public Speaking is a skill which I believe makes fantastic use of introvert’s hidden talents – and which allows introverts the opportunity to sell themselves, their needs and their ideas on their own terms.

As an introvert I know things are not always that easy. This book will address the problems – internal and external – that introverts face. It will cover common problems (such as fear and shyness). It will provide an action plan for someone who has never given a presentation before. And it will guide you step by step towards success – not just in public speaking, but in living a life which you, as an introvert, enjoy. Unlike some other attempts to help introverts this is not about learning how to act like an extravert, it is about making the most of the skills that you, an introvert, find the most enjoyable and rewarding – the things you are best at. And it will show you, with just a little thought and planning, you can use them to win the game the extraverts play, without stressing, tiring, or being untrue to yourself.

#Are You An Introvert? – Am I An Introvert?

There seems to be a standard definition of what makes someone an introvert “You are an introvert if socialising drains you of energy, and an extravert (or extrovert) if socialising gives you energy”

The way they test if you are introverted or extroverted tends to be along the lines of asking you if a number of statements like “I have a small group of close friends” are true or false. The more you answer true, the more of an introvert you are.

This doesn’t work for me.

First off, a confession, hell, a declaration: “I am an introvert”

I am an introvert. If you give me one of those introvert tests, I score as highly as it is possible to score. I’m a class A certified introvert.

And yet, on occasion, I am lonely. I crave company. the thought of not seeing anyone drives me insane. Also, I love public speaking – and I hardly ever have stage fright.

Am I an outlier? Is there a reason those tests don’t work for me?

No. I’m an introvert. Its just that the tests are testing behaviours – the ways that many introverts learn to act. It isn’t testing anything innate about an individuals introversion. Everyone is different, and I happen to have mastered the art of public speaking – mastered it in a way which takes advantage of all of my learned introvert behaviours. There is nothing about introversion which means you can’t speak in public!

And when do I find myself lonely? Its when I’ve had no company for a particularly long time. When I’m finding myself falling out of my regularly scheduled social engagements because too much of my time is being taken up with something else.

What this means to me is that – on very rare occasions – I can be an extravert.

The question isn’t ‘Are you, or are you not an introvert?’, the questions are ‘Are you an introvert at the moment? Right now, does the idea of meeting new people fill you with dread or excitement?’ and ‘If you are frequently an introvert, has this affected your behaviour? Do you frequently act in ways which avoid excessive social interaction to maintain your energy?’

The idea of an introvert is a stereotype. We think of thin, pale, people who hide away indoors, in libraries, generally away from all the fun. And there are introverts who fit this stereotype – but there are many who do not. It is like the difference between asking ‘Am I a man?’, which is a question about a fact, something which can be examined and given a definite answer, and asking ‘Am I manly? Am I masculine?’ – a question of whether you fit into a particular cultural stereotype.

There is no shame in being an introvert. It is merely a statement of how, right now, you work best. Once you know you are an introvert, you can begin to question how to use this knowledge to achieve your potential in an extroverted world.

# The Extravert World

It’s a busy world outside. We take crowded public transport: overflowing tube trains, bulging busses full of iPhoning executives and chattering school kids. Walking down the street, dodging the hen parties and tourists, you spot someone talking to himself – not a sign of insanity, just a mobile bluetooth head set. Everyone is talking. And they want you to be part of the conversation.

They are suspicious of you if you decline. What exactly are you hiding?

It’s tiring, isn’t it?

It’s an extravert world. There are more extraverts than introverts according to most studies, and even if there weren’t, extraverts tend to shout louder, they tend to get noticed. And herein lies the problem: getting noticed. Getting noticed is the key to success, and introverts, naturally, tend to shy away from the spotlight. They know that the more they put themselves forwards, the more people will ask them to put themselves forwards, and the more energy they will keep having to spend. They also know if they put themselves forwards, they face the possibility of criticism and rejection. The extravert world views criticism and rejection as somebody else’s opinion – there are always more people to love. But the introvert takes it to heart and holds on to it deep inside. And dealing with criticism – that too is draining.

Perhaps the introvert, in his quest to get noticed decides to excel – in the office or classroom. Surely people will notice the quality of his work? Perhaps. But the schoolroom, and the workplace are domains created to make the best out of the majority – the extraverts. Gone are the days of rows of desks and working in silence. Gone are individual offices with doors which can shut, and the peaceful solitude they offer. Now we have group working, brainstorming, meeting after meeting after meeting. And we have the open plan office where the introvert can never retreat fully into his own mind, because there is always an extravert about to walk up behind him and ask another unimportant question.

It doesn’t matter that introverts may be known for being able to produce better work (they are). It doesn’t matter that open plan offices are known to be huge productivity killers (they are). What matters is that the extraverts are in charge – they are making the decisions: decisions which suit them.

The extravert doesn’t really understand the introvert. when the introvert shys away from having to talk to someone, the extravert becomes suspicious – what is the introvert trying to hide? When the introvert looks for solitude, the extravert suspects them of skiving off and leaving the work for everybody else. The extravert can’t understand why you wouldn’t want to work with other people – unless you were clearly inferior to them. Indeed, the thought of being alone for too long to an extravert is akin to a death sentence. The extravert likes the open plan office, because the alternative, silence and solitude, is terrifying to him – and the extravert believes everyone else agrees.

Introverts scare extroverts. The most damning thing said when a neighbour turns out to be a serial killer is “He was very quiet. He always kept himself to himself”. Even introverts are taught from birth than introversion is wrong, and can be overcome. Dale Carnigie’s “How to Make Friends and Influence People” has been the surefire way to success for the best part of a century. Introverts have been trying to make themselves heard. They’ve been trying to act like extraverts.

And they’ve been failing. Because acting like an extravert is tiring. Eventually you burn out, give up, and return to the peace and quiet of the library.

There must be another way.

# The Introvert Mind

To understand what it is that makes us introvert’s tick (and run away screaming from extraverts), we need to look at what goes on inside the introvert’s mind.

Introverts are more easily stimulated by external stimuli than extraverts. This isn’t just about people, talking, or loud noises – this is about everything. If you put a drop of lemon juice on 100 people’s tongues, and measure how much saliva is produced – those people producing the most will be introverts. Even the stimuli of lemon juice on the tongue stimulates an introvert more than an extravert.

We can see it in babies too. Some babies are placid and content, whereas others are easily agitated – scared by almost everything around them. Those louder, more agitated babies are the ones most likely to grow up to be introverted. The reason is the same – it seems they are more stimulated by the environment than their extraverted brethren, and react more strongly to it.

So if babies predict our introversion, it it something we are born with, an inescapable fate of genetics? The answer is a definite maybe. Studies on twins have shown that about half our chance of being introverted in inherited from our parents, whereas the other half comes from our environment growing up. It would seem that we inherit not introversion, but a proclivity towards it, and that even a child born from an extraverted line may, in the right circumstances, discover their inner introvert as they grow up.

The stimuli most introverts face is fear. Fear is your essential reaction to whenever something happens that you don’t expect. A slight, passing, fear, perhaps, but enough to make you weary or startled. This can be when a car passes you on the street, when a stranger talks to you, when you hear an unfamiliar piece of music.

The introvert’s mind reacts to the stimuli of other people with an emotional response akin to fear.

The introvert’s brain has to manage this fear. We don’t all go along each day jumping out of our skin at each and every thing that happens to us (though, I’m sure the most introverted amongst us – myself included – have days when everything that happens just seems to be too much, and we would really rather roll up into a ball and hope the world goes away). Its the job of the brain to make all of this bearable – to take away these negative responses and manage them.

The brain does this by learning – the more familiar he situation, the more times the brain has handled similar experiences without suffering, the more we are able to let them pass. In effect it uses a low level of something akin to willpower be able to say to the initial reaction of fear -albeit subconsciously – “Thanks but no thanks”. But even this is slightly tiring.

Moreover, we still experience lots of new unknowns in our lives. Things we have not yet become used to.

Take social interactions, for example – they are inherently unpredictable. People have a habit of doing different things each time you meet them. They’re annoying like that. So people are setting our fear alert’s buzzing, and its our brain’s job to quieten itself down again. Now some introverts – those who have had a lot of social experience – may do a good job of drowning out the fear buzzer. but others – especially those who may have had less pleasant social experiences in their youth, may not drown the fear buzzer so much. And they will begin to consciously find the more difficult of social situations (meeting new people, for example) actively unpleasant. They need to consciously expend willpower to get through. These introverts are drained of energy far faster.

This is why introverts (who still crave some human interaction), tend to have smaller groups of friends – and closer friends. Introverts build up strong bonds of trust with a few people – all of whom act reliably and predictably. Their social interactions within this group are far less of a drain and introverts are able enjoy this form of socialising more.

But there is more to an introvert than this. The introvert, knowing the difficulty of interacting with other people, learns techniques that help him to manage this. Specifically the introvert learns a method to avoid frequent failure: Abstract Thought. Fearing rejection – or whatever sort of pain the introvert has learned to associate with the feelings their fear buzzer raises – the introvert becomes a planning machine. When thoughts arise in the introvert’s mind, the introvert examines them, and looks them over to see if any of the thoughts may have particular merit. They seek out any flaws in their intended actions. Only having looked at a thought from all sides does the introvert feel happy with it, does it become particularly real to him. At this point, the introvert is willing to express his thought to others.

This leads to problems socially. In conversations, introverts will often have to hold back as they fully absorb and take in the ideas that other people are throwing about. To the extravert, it might look like the introvert is not playing his part, is sitting on the sidelines, perhaps not even understanding what is going on. Either way, the introvert may appear arrogant, rude or stupid. However, in the introvert’s mind, he is engaging fully. Not with the people, but with the ideas. Give an introvert time, and, when he has finished incubating them, the ideas he comes up with are likely to be fully formed and ready to be used.

Throughout this book, I have made the assumption that extraverts don’t realise that introverts are different and think in a whole different way from them – but from talking to introverts, I find that introverts also don’t understand the difference in how extraverts interact with the world.

# The Extravert Mind

To understand the extravert, first consider, that if they have a something like a fear buzzer that rings somewhere deep in their brain when there is a new and potentially dangerous situation, it doesn’t sound as loudly as it does in the introvert’s. As such, the extravert spends less concentration, less mental energy, suppressing its sound.

So the extravert has more energy to do more things, and fewer warning signs blaring inside his mind telling him to stop.

Whereas the introvert toddler might worry about venturing forth into a noisy playgroup full of unfamiliar children dashing about, screaming, and clattering their strange, alien, toys, the extrovert simply walks into the middle of the chaos, grabs something that looks appealing (or perhaps later on in life, in a noisy nightclub, grabs someone who looks appealing) and begins to play, a big smile beaming on his face.

Sometimes the extravert gets themselves into trouble – but without the warning sign of a fear buzzer to create a commonality, there is less chance of the extravert noticing a pattern. Sure, the extravert might realise not to touch the hot stove, having done it once, but this doesn’t stop them from reaching out to grab a biscuit later on. The extravert learns from the results of his actions – not from calculating what responses those actions are going to have.

The extravert has far less motivation to learn to play with ideas before trying them out. While the introvert lives in the world of his ideas, and occasionally putting the best of those ideas into practice in the real world, the extravert has no patience with this. He wants things to happen now, and quickly, as much and as often as possible, to fulfil his need for more and more stimulation. So the extravert sets out to try often, and to fail often. The extravert learns, not through planning, but through watching the results of his actions, and repeating those that work.

This is also true in social situations – while the introvert is trying to figure out the best idea in order to say it, and be right, the extravert says the first thing that comes to his mind, and then, by watching the responses of the crowd modifies his responses until he finds something which sounds right both to him and to the outside world.

When the introvert thinks, he has many ideas, and constantly refines and rejects them until he has crafted the perfect diamond. The one true real idea. the idea that is worthy of being spoken. When the extravert thinks, his ideas are not realised – don’t have meaning or value to him – until they have been shared – until he knows not only what he thinks of it, but also what the world thinks.

I once (rather uncharitably – but nevertheless with a modicum of truth) put it “The introvert finishes thinking before he talks. The extravert talks before he finishes thinking”

If the curse of the introvert is overstimulation, the curse of the extravert is understimulation – and of loneliness. Introverts know that – despite everything – they require some stimulation – it is quite possible for an introvert to back of from society too fully, and to be left craving some quantity of attention. Now consider the extravert – someone who is stimulated far less by the ordinary world. Someone who needs people to fully enjoy the fruits of their own mind. for an extravert solitude isn’t a break – its a prison sentence.

And so, the extravert, being the more active and more risk taking type of person – not to mention the majority, has built a world which provides the stimulation they need. It isn’t a deliberate attack on the introvert but rather, it’s a genuine desire to create a world where people are stimulated, able to think, talk and enjoy life.

Just as extraverts need to understand that introverts need their time and space to function, introverts need to understand that the world, as it is: extroverted and a little too loud, suits the minds of the majority perfectly. For all its flaws, the majority are unaware there is even a problem, because for them, there is no problem at all.

# How Introverts Can Speak Up

It is – for introverts – an unfortunate fact that the world is oriented towards extraverts. There is no getting away from this. It is unlikely to change, no matter how hard we wish, if only because the thought of introverts all wanting to gather together in the same place and mount a noisy protest is bordering on the laughable.

Moreover, the world is fundamentally social. Success, in whatever form, relies on us convincing others to do things for us – even if all we want to convince them to do is leave us alone to be quiet. As introverts we all have much to offer: we are abuzz with ideas, we think deeper, are able to concentrate harder for longer, and notice details which extraverts consider unimportant. Introverts are responsible for many of the great works of art, of literature, of science and of technology. It is no exaggeration to say that without introverts the modern world would be a much different, and far less advanced place. Nevertheless for an introvert’s ideas to be valued to others, they have to be communicated.

Communication is difficult. Perhaps the ideal form of communication for an introvert is writing. Writing is a solitary activity, a creative activity, something that takes time and dedication and relies on all the skills which introverts exhibit in droves. However, reading your writing is also a fundamentally solitary activity – and an activity which introverts enjoy far more than their extrovert brethren. There are many reasons to write – and indeed writing can change the world. But if you want to be heard by extroverts, by the majority of people in the world, by the people who can hear your ideas and work together with others to make them happen you have to do something else: you have to speak up. You have to be heard.

Talking is difficult. We’ve examined why before: talking is putting yourself into a situation, which for introverts continually raises their sense of danger. Conversations are unpredictable. You never know what people are going to say, or when they’ll say it. There is little or no time to prepare answers, because talking requires quick, often unconsidered responses. And for many introverts, because socialising has these problems, there has been no incentive to learn these skills at any point in their lives. Less time has been spent in conversation. So even an introvert who is prepared to put himself into a conversation situation and go with whatever blows may follow is likely to be a less able performer than an extrovert.

We introverts need a different approach.

This is where public speaking comes in. At first it may seem to be an abhorrent idea to the introvert – lets take something you don’t like, talking, and put you on display doing it in front of a large crowd. But as this book aims to show, public speaking will play to all your strengths as an introvert – it will make you look like a socially skilled extrovert (which is important to establish status in the extravert world), it will let you communicate your ideas, and it will establish you not just as a great thinker, but as a thought leader.

The secret is that public speaking is a skill. It can be learned. And most people are so unskilled at public speaking, that with only a little knowledge – just what you get from reading the contents of this book – and a little practice, you will be a better speaker than most of your colleagues. By comparison with your peers, your presentations – and your ideas – will outshine the others.

# Introverts Have A Head Start When It Comes To Public Speaking

Imagine two people, each are due to give an important presentation in a day’s time. One is an introvert, the other an extravert.

The extravert looks forward to the presentation – he enjoys talking, and meeting with the crowd of people afterwards is something he loves. He likes to be the centre of attention, and by being the presenter can be sure that there will be a throng ready to engage with him and discuss the ideas they have – related, or unrelated, it doesn’t matter.

The introvert would really rather the presentation was over. She knows that she is good at presenting, but also understands that the room is going to contain quite a lot of people – people she might like to talk to, on occasion, in one two one chats, perhaps. But handling them all at once is something she would rather avoid.

One of these people is happy right now. And it isn’t the extravert.

Prior to a presentation, everyone needs to prepare. Introverts know this. Extraverts – if they don’t know this, soon find it out after one or two of their presentations are received with warm indifference. And so in the days and hours prior to a presentation both the introvert and extravert have to put the presentation together. This combines determining both what they are going to say and how they are going to say it, and then putting together a slide deck – or other presentation materials – with sufficient pizzazz to wow the crowd.

Writing is a solitary activity.

When the introvert and the extravert set out to prepare their presentations, they both have very different strategies. The introvert can take themselves away to a quiet room, and begin the process of honing their ideas – first shaping ideas in their heads, then getting them down onto paper, and finally building a presentation around them that they are happy meets all of their goals. They can do all of this alone, without needing any assistance (Assuming they know – or have access to – all the information necessary for the presentation). Moreover, this is the sort of environment where an introvert thrives – reading, researching, creating and constructing ideas and texts alone.

The extravert stumbles at the beginning: what should the presentation be about? The first thought is to ask someone else – but if they are busy, then the extravert has to push on alone. He will have ideas – many of them will be good ideas, but there is a nagging doubt at the back of his mind “What will other people think of this?”. The extravert finds this uncertainty uncomfortable. Just as the presence of people drains the introvert, the extravert is drained by the incompleteness he feels without external approval. Eventually, the lack of stimulation is too much for the extravert, and he is forced to leave his preparation to go out to talk to somebody. To talk to anybody. This process repeats, with the extravert less and less wanting to return to his office to carry on with the planning. Eventually, he breaks down – hammers out a rough idea and says “Thats good enough – I’m good at talking, I can wing it from here”

As the introvert passes by the extravert’s office, she sees him leaving with the boys for the office football game. It doesn’t look like there is a problem in the world bothering him – indeed, there isn’t, he is back in his own domain: with people. Tomorrow’s presentation will be however it turns out to be. The introvert knows, however, exactly how her presentation will be. She can’t be sure of the outcome, but she is prepared. Totally prepared. She has followed a set of rules she discovered years ago, and has developed for herself ever since. She knows they work, and she knows why they work.

There may be a crowd of people tomorrow, but they don’t faze her. She is prepared. This is no longer down to her social skills, but to how good her preparation has been.

For the introvert presenter, there is nothing more important than preparation – it lets you put together all the hard parts of communication without anybody looking at you. It lets you shape ideas in your own time and your own space. When you spend as much time as you can on the preparation, the presentation will take care of itself. Indeed, some introverts, myself included, now find extraverts coming to them asking for help with presentation preparation, because the extraverts know that the introvert can give them a finished product better than they could construct on their own. Meanwhile it is the introvert gets to be the thought leader – and to do the sort of work that they – and indeed that I – love the most.

To prepare the perfect presentation, I generally follow a system which I have developed as a result of years of researching the subject, watching others present and experimenting in both my presentations – and the presentations I have written on behalf of extraverts. In the following pages, I will describe my system, and explain why it works so well for me.

# Finding Your Message

What is your presentation about?

I don’t mean the title.

I don’t mean a brief summary.

I don’t even mean “Why did your boss ask you to give this presentation”

What I mean is “What do you want to get out of the presentation?”

What you want to get out of the presentation is often vastly different from why you’ve been asked to give it. For instance, maybe you’ve been asked to give the presentation because you’re the only person who knows about the new grommet ordering system. That’s fine. I’m sure your boss is really keen to get everybody on board with the new system.

But perhaps you have a different aim. You may not care that much about grommet ordering. But perhaps you want to give the presentation because you want to be noticed, or because you want people to see you as someone who can have ideas that work – or someone who can see a difficult project through to completion.

When it comes to presentations, there are always three aims you need to consider:

What do you hope to get out of giving the presentation?

What does the person asking you to speak hope to get out of you giving the presentation?

What does the audience hope to get out of listening to your presentation?

Allow me let you into a secret. In almost all cases, what the audience want is to be entertained. Sure, the audience may think they want to know the information conveyed in your presentation – hell, you might think they _need_ to know the information – but if its a boring presentation, the majority won’t remember or act on it anyway. So when it comes to setting the message for the presentation, I urge you not to consider your audience . Most of constructing a presentation comes down to thinking about your audiences needs, and how to keep them on board, however this first step is about you.

What the person asking for the presentation wants is more complicated. Often people asking for presentations have a number of motives – sometimes they genuinely want you to share information, but other times they want to put their team on show, or even just fill a space in a schedule. You might be able to guess their true desire, you might not. But what is important is that they set the theme for your presentation – no matter how much you want to get the message out “Look how wonderful I am” or “Promote me” or “Send me on that sales trip to Hawaii”, you have to wrap the message up inside the question they set. So listen to what you are asked to present about – use this to inspire your title, and even the things you are going to choose to talk about, but unless your desires align entirely with the person asking you to speak, make sure your message is at the heart – and the conclusion of what you are going to say.

What you hope to get out of giving the presentation is the real message. This is what we are going to be working on throughout the rest of this book. So sit down and ask yourself the following question: ‘What really motivates me to want to stand up in front of a crowd of people and tell them about something? What do I hope or dream will come out of this?’

It may be your presentation is to sell something other than yourself: maybe you have an idea to sell, perhaps you can think of a change in how your workplace works that will make your life easier. Maybe you even have a product to sell (and the benefit is the commission you’ll get from selling it). In any case, think about what it is you really want your audience to do. And remember: while there might be one hundred people sitting in the room listening to you, sometimes the number of people who can make the change you want is much smaller. They are the people you want to take away your message when they leave the room.

Right now, before you move on, answer these questions:

Why were you asked to give this presentation?

Why to people think they are coming to your presentation? What do they expect to get out of it?

What do you really, deep down, want people to do once they have heard your presentation?

The final answer is your message. This is the one thing you want people to take away from your presentation (if you think you have more than one message, try again. get it down to one, most important thing that you – not someone listening to you or someone paying you – wants to get some of the people listening to do as a result of the presentation?)

Now you have your message, you need to get people to want to listen to it, and take it onboard.

# Making Your Message Memorable

Once you have determined the message you wish your presentation to convey, everything else is about getting people to listen to the message, remember it and act on it.

Lets try an experiment – think back for a moment about the ten best lessons you had at school, or college. The really memorable ones. The ones that stuck with you for life. Perhaps you might want to write down a list of the lessons what you learned, why you remember them. Now think back to ten films you enjoyed. Don’t just think of recent films, think of films you watched as a child. Remember who the key characters were. Think about the plot. Was there message that the film was trying to convey?

I bet, unless you happen to absolutely hate the cinema (in which case, think about ten books that you love and try again) that you found it easier to remember ten films, in quite a lot of detail, than you did to remember 10 lectures or lessons. I’m also willing to bet that the ten lectures or lessons you remembered were absolutely outstanding for one reason or other, whereas some of the ten films might have been fairly run of the mill. Odds on, you have probably spent more of your life in lectures and lessons than you have in the cinema. You had far more lecture or lessons than films to choose from.

So why was it easier to remember the films?

The answer is simple: film makers put all of their effort into grabbing you and pulling you into the film, keeping hold of your interest, and taking you with them all the way to the conclusion. Films are expensive to make. If a movie maker loses his audiences’ attention before the big finish – if they start drifting off, or worse, walking out – then he has made a very expensive mistake.

The Hollywood studios try to avoid expensive mistakes (please ignore Waterworld. So they follow tried and trusted rules which keep hold of your attention. These are rules which you can choose to apply to your presentations – they are rules which, if you follow this framework, you will find easy to apply to almost any subject.

There is nothing new about these rules. In fact, thats sort of the point. The rules I’m going to teach you have been used for thousands of years – six thousand at least – all the way back to the first story ever known to have been written down (The Epic of Gilgamesh). Because the rules are the rules which have underlaid storytelling throughout recorded human history.

Lots of people have tried to work out what the rules of a good story are. We’re going to follow the same rules that the Hollywood studios use. For these rules, we go back to a historian and anthropologist, Joseph Campbell. Campbell specialised in the study of myths and legends. By collecting a vast range of myths and legends from cultures all over the world, Campbell tried to tease out the common characteristics of each story – the thing he described as the Meta-Myth. Campbell’s work became famous. But it wasn’t Campbell who convinced Hollywood. For that we need to look at another studio executive – Christopher Vogel. Vogel was a fan of Campbell’s, and noticed that the meta-myth which Campbell identified wasn’t just there in the ancient stories of cultures gone. The same structures were present in the films which were topping the box office charts. Moreover, Vogel noticed that many of the films which were failing to do as well were missing some of the key elements that Campbell had identified. Vogel realised he didn’t just have an interesting pan-cultural anthropological theory on his hands, he also had a blueprint for box office success. He wrote a memo about it, which quickly became widely circulated amongst the Hollywood studios, and which you can see influencing much of modern cinema.

Joseph Campbell published his meta-myth theory in his book “The Hero’s Journey”

Christopher Vogel extended his memo into a screenwriting book “The Writer’s Journey”

Both books are well worth reading.

But you don’t need to read them in order to improve your presentation preparation skills. In the articles which follow, I shall be describing how to use a simplified version of the meta-myth story structure to take the dry facts, figures and calls to action and turn them into a story. To turn them into something which will worm its way into your listener’s minds, and stay with them long after they leave your presentation.

# Lets Start At The End

When I write a story, I always like to start at the ending. Starting by deciding where you will finish means that, for the rest of your writing, you have something to aim at. You know where you are going. You know if you are going off track and have to reign yourself back. So right now, lets come up with the conclusion.

We want to achieve three things from the conclusion:

1. We want to inspire people. We want people to leave your presentation thinking that they have a chance of making a difference by doing the things you say. If people aren’t inspired to give your ideas a go, then all you’ve done is shower them with some facts which, gradually, over time, they will learn to ignore.

2. We want to tell people exactly what to do next. This is the call to action. We do it because people are dumb. And I mean that in the nicest possible way. but if you don’t actually spell out to people how they can put your ideas into motion, quite often they won’t be prepared to think of ways of applying them for themselves. So you have to give them one example of something you want them to do.

3. We want to satisfy people. Have you ever watched a film which finishes and you’re left thinking ‘but that plot point never came up again’ or ‘Will they get back together, it’s unclear’. You leave the cinema feeling as if something is missing. And when you look back on the film, you don’t tend to regard it as a fulfilling experience – you’re more inclined to dismiss it. The same is true of any story – even the story you’re going to be telling in your presentation.

To pick your conclusion you need to look back at your message. Your message and your conclusion are tightly related, but they are not always the same thing. Lets say you have been asked to give a speech entitled “What Our Local Cats Home Does For the Community”, it is quite possible, depending on who you are, and who you know your audience are, you might settle on any one of many possible messages – for example, here are three

Message 1: “I’m good at presentations – I should speak at the next international conference”

Message 2: “I led a complicated project which was hugely successful”

Message 3: “I want you to sign up to give our charity 10 pounds a month”

Now let’s take the subject, and the message, and try to come up with a conclusion.

For Message 1, the conclusion happens when the crowd give you a standing ovation. When the audience respond to your story. When they have been thoroughly entertained. The conclusion needs to be a twist – something which surprises and delights the audience. Something with a bit of showmanship. Thinking of a cats home, my first though would be that, if you had earlier in the story described rescuing a badly treated cat – shown pictures of a flea ridden cat on deaths door – perhaps even described how your home kept on looking after the cat, even though it looked certain it was going to die, then a big ending would be to arrange to have someone bring the, now healthy, cat onto the stage. This is unexpected, adorably cute, and satisfyingly ties up a story, which the audience might have otherwise expected to be unfinished or unhappy, with a very happy ending. That the cat is healthy (along with the other good deeds you have discussed) is inspiring. Moreover, it makes you look so much better than the previous presented with 50 powerpoint slides and no adorable kitten. Your call to action here isn’t in the presentation – it’s in the conversation you have with your boss (or whoever decides who speaks at the international conference) when you ask them if they enjoyed your presentation – and if they did, if they think there might be more opportunities for you to talk elsewhere?

For Message 2, you will have been describing a particular project in a lot of detail. A project that had a conclusion which you were intimately involved in. So as you tell your story, you want to insure it features you, there, at the very end, enjoying the success. If the end can be right there, on the stage, in front of everybody (“The current figure – which I took from our computer this morning – is that we have inoculated 239 cats – thats 20% more inoculations than we set out to achieve. But we can do more – we’ve understood the problems and overcome them, and now we know how to go back and do this better”) Then emphasise all the complications that you overcame again. The call to action is for people to believe you led this to success – ending on success achieves this. The success story provides satisfaction, and again, the good work is inspiring, but not so much as the knowledge that it can be done better and simpler.

Message 3 is simpler. Message three has a straight forward call to action. But even in message three, notice that the subject “What we do in the community” is not the same as the call to action “Give us your money”. So I would look at your story as being a sob story – a story of all the things that could be done – if only we had the money. When you start from here, your conclusion can be big and strong “There are all of these things we could do, if only we had some money. We do have some money – we have a number of generous donors – and we’ve managed to use it to home 900 cats, and to treat another 800 unwell cats. But there is so much more that, right now we are unable to do. We are making a difference to the cats in your community, but we need your help. 10 pounds a month with save 12 cats a year. So I’m offering you the change to help us now. Bill and Mary will be wandering around the room to sign you up to help save a cat – no wait – twelve cat’s lives.” The call to action is obvious. The fact we are achieving so much on so little is inspiring. And the fact we are overcoming many of our problems, and that you can be a part of a happier ending is satisfying.

You’ll see that, in coming to the conclusion, we have already had to figure out the first steps of how we will reach it. So far, we haven’t added much detail, and there is a lot of scope to change our plan. Only our ending is firm.

# Turning Your Facts into a Story

As you prepare your presentation, you are probably aware of a list of facts you want to convey to the audience. You are also, probably very aware that these facts don’t look much like a story. How they’ll help you build up to a big conclusion, the sort of conclusion we talked about previously, probably seems very unclear.

So lets start by describing what a story is. What I’m going to described is shamelessly adapted from the works of Campbell and Vogel, however its a simplified version – a version I’ve developed for the purpose of using as a backbone for presentations. Time and time again, whenever I’m stuck for how to present some information, I return to this backbone and it always provides me with the tools I need to create a story that works.

Every story starts with a hero (or heroine). A character that the story focuses on.

The hero starts off in the ordinary world. A story is as much about the world the hero is in as it is about the hero himself, so its important to describe the world.

The hero sets out for adventure. There is a call to action which is too big for him to refuse.

The hero faces a number of challenging situations. The hero may also meet a number of friends and associates who are going to aid him on his journey.

As the hero keeps bumping into more and more challenges, things seem insurmountable. The hero reaches a point where it seems all is lost.

But the hero isn’t just a man, he is a hero. He triumphs over the problems and returns home, to the ordinary world.

But the ordinary world has been changed by the hero’s actions.

[In my simplification of the meta-myth, we have left out several parts of the story structure which movies and novel normally employ. For example, in a Movie, the hero usually rejects the initial call to action, and has to be given an even stronger call before he accepts. Similarly, in a movie, there is usually a mentor figure who guides the hero through his early struggles. I've found these characteristics are hard to weave into a presentation, and don't seem to add much. So, unless there is an obvious counterpoint in the reality the story is based upon, I tend to ignore them. You may wish to consider them when you've got the hang of using the basic model I provide]

# But I Don’t Have A Hero?

Its quite possible, as you look at your presentation about this quarter’s results in the widget folding industries of south east somewhere-or-other that you don’t see an obvious hero jumping out at you. perhaps, you think, my presentation will work without there being a hero?

In my experience, every story needs a hero. And you can always find a hero for any story you wish to tell.

I’m going to describe the three most common ways to find heroes that you can use to build a presentation around:

1. Pick someone real. Some presentations have a character at their heart; they are about a particular person. If they are not about a particular person, they might be about a particular department or organisation – in which case, you can use a real person (the founder, perhaps) to represent the organisation. Instead of telling us that ‘Flumph Food Inc.’ changed their marketing strategy, tell us about how ‘F. F. Flumph, food fanatic and self made millionaire founder of Flumph Food’ decided that the marketing strategy needed to be changed – how he changed it and why it worked.

2: If you can’t pick someone real, pick someone fictional (So, for example, it turns out that I invented F. F. Flumph when I wrote the last paragraph). A large number of presentations seem to be about problems someone faces, and what we are doing to fix them. The problems might be wide ranging – immigration, animal cruelty, usability (or lack of usability) of computer software, inducting new people into your organisation, selling refrigerated cooling devices to the inuit people of northern America, ensuring you meet high standards of political correctness in constructing examples. But in each case those problems are happening to someone. Lets go through the problems again, but lets look at the fictional characters who might be facing them

Mihai is a Romanian computer programmer, coming to the UK because of the increased employment opportunities and higher pay in his field. He is legally entitled to do this, and will be paying well above the average amount of tax for a UK worker, yet he faces discrimination for “Coming over here and taking our jobs”

Buck is a Yorkshire terrier. He used to have a happy family – but when he noticed that one of the older humans stopped going out of the house every day, and instead sat at home watching TV, things began to get worse. Soon Buck found he was getting less and less food. Then one day, Buck was taken outside, his owner removed Buck’s collar, and then he was left alone, in a strange place that Buck didn’t know. Now Buck has to search through bins to try to find food.

Mavis used to always keep up with technology. But doesn’t it move so fast these days. her grandkids all have these new computers, and Mavis’s kids suggested that Mavis might want to get one herself so that she can keep in touch with them while they are at university. Now Mavis has a new computer tablet. But she doesn’t know what to do with it, and frankly she is a bit scared that she might catch a virus from it.

Sam is a new starter at BigCo. It’s his first day, and fresh out of college Sam is a bit intimidated. Especially since no-one appears to be expecting him. He has a piece of paper which says he should report to his manager ‘Jim’, but Jim doesn’t even seem to be in the office today.

Aipaloovik is tired by the challenges of living a traditional life in the modern world. Moreover he has a lot of trouble when it comes to replacing his old, malfunctioning fridge. It isn’t that people won’t sell one to him – but he lives in a reasonably remote area, and the difficulty in transporting the fridge and installing it generally makes such a purchase expensive and complicated.

Ben – the absolutely fictional and not at all related to a real author of this book – author made a two pronged joke around the idea of selling fridges to eskimos and political correctness. He then backed himself into a corner when he realised he had to come up with convincing story characters for potential presentations. Luckily inuit names are easily discovered thanks to the magic of Google (he hopes he hasn’t offended anyone by his own lack of cultural knowledge) and his own recent issues with getting a fridge to his house made him suspect that the problems that the inuit face are probably more mundane than we might imagine.

3: Use Yourself. Sometimes its just very hard to come up with a convincing fictional character, and there isn’t an obvious person to hang a story onto. In these cases, you’re generally missing one person. You. You’re the person who has researched all the things in the presentation – you are also the person who has done all the work. Instead of telling us about the work, tell us the story of what happened to you while you were doing the work, or while you were researching it. For some really good examples of this, watch how Al Gore tells about how he found out about global warning, in An Inconvenient Truth – and watch ‘Dave Gorman’s Googlewhack Adventure’ for a funnier approach, which, nevertheless puts him as the star.

# Giving Your Presentation A Mythic Structure

The mythic structure I described earlier is all about your hero meeting greater and greater challenges and overcoming them until, eventually, he meets his greatest challenge, defeats it, and returns home to the better world that he has created.

You already know what the better world is – it is the world of your conclusion. The world in which you show you have already achieved all of your goals, and are a success, or the world where you are inspiring others to go out and change the world. This is your destination.

You have already established who your hero is – it is the person who is facing the challenges.

The ordinary world – the place where the hero begins his story is the world that you want to change. It’s a place of uncertainty. And a place where, if you stay, everything stays the same – or potentially gets worse. This is where you begin to tell your tale.

Let’s imagine, for example, that I was going to give a presentation discussing the new release of a software product to a group of salesmen. I know that my message is “we’ve done all this hard work to make your lives easier”. I know my conclusion is going to be “it’s so much easier to sell this software now – so go out there and sell more of it”. I know my hero – in this story – is going to be a fictional salesman character that I’m creating, one who is going to be facing all the problems with selling the last version of our software. So what is my ordinary world?

In this case, the ordinary world is where the salesman goes to meet his customer. It’s still a place where he doesn’t quite know what he is going to face. He is prepared, but he knows that there are some imperfections in the software he is going to sell, and he is worried the customer might ask him about them, because that is where he could potentially lose the deal. He psyches himself up, raises his chin, puts on his best smile and walks through his customer’s office door.

Now, we need to move on to the challenges the hero faces.

Think of all the points you wish to convey in your presentation. They might be about how your product is better than the last version – or better than the competition. They may be about how a set of processes improves performance. They may be about news laws and the impact on a charity. in short, these are the things that, in a traditional powerpoint presentation, would be written on slides as bullet points.

Stop

Do not write them on the slides as bullet points.

That is exactly what this presentation technique is trying to avoid.

No one remembers bullet points. Everyone remembers stories.

But consider your list of points. Each point describes either:

* Something you want someone to do – or know

or

* Something that has (or is going to) change, and its impact

or

* Facts which supports one of the above

We can ignore the supporting facts for now: we’ll use them when we come to tell our story. Instead let’s consider the other types of point on your list, and consider how to turn them into challenges for your hero:

###Something you want someone to do, or to know.

If you want someone to do something, or you want someone to know something, then there is a reason why you want this. And specifically there has to be a benefit for the person you want to change. Or a cost if they don’t change.

We can show this, in our story, by setting our hero a challenge. For example, consider our salesman from earlier: one thing I want him to change is the way he sells our product. I want him to sell, not just the product, but our full range of consultancy services too. So I want to set up a challenge where, if he sells the consultancy product, he would benefit. Perhaps something like : “The customer looks at the brochure and says ‘I’m not sure. This all seems very complicated. I don’t think a small company like ours would be able to work out where to begin integrating it’. The benefit is clear: if the salesman sells consultancy services, he is more likely to win the deal. If the salesman doesn’t sell the consultancy services he has more, and harder, work to do in order to win (and his commission is probably smaller to boot)

###Something that has changed (or is about to change)

Is there something external to the person in question (a law, the economic climate, a customer’s product – even our salesman’s companies product, since the salesman in not involved in determining its features) that has changed – or is about to change? If so, then the challenge you need to add to your story is a challenge in which the hero’s behaviour has to change as a result of the new situation.

Let’s say I want to get the salesman to know that we redesigned some of the windows and buttons in our software and that the new version is now easier to use than our competition’s. For this, I might want to show the challenge of selling the old software to someone used to the competitor’s system.

By translating each of the points you listed above into a challenge, you should now have a list of challenges for your hero to face.

Now order them. There are two things to consider when ordering the challenges. The first is to try to order them by size. Make each challenge bigger. The second is that you are trying to lead up to your conclusion.

Between your chalenges and your conclusion are two parts of the story. The point of biggest failure – when all seems lost, and the victory and return home. The point where all seems lost is the largest challenge – the challenge that, without following the message contained in the conclusion, your heros will never succeed. So for our salesman, the conclusion is “The new software will make your lives easier”. So the challenge needs to show the salesman’s life being really difficult. Because we want to show it being difficult, it is probably best that for this challenge, and all those challenges preceding them, he has been trying to sell the old version of the product. Maybe at the critical moment, where is customer is about to turn him down we have his boss calling up to ask how the pitch is going, and a text come in from his wife asking if she can book the family vacation he promised if he got a good bonus from the sale.

The victory, is then about the path between this impossibly bad situation and the conclusion. In my example, I might have the boss ask “You did explain about all the features in the new version of the product?” And then have the salesman explain all the new features to the customer. The features that solve all the problems.

You now have a structure. But before we move onto the tricks of storytelling which will turn it into a presentation, there is one more point I would like to make: When your hero faces each of the challenges you have set, he should not succeed – or at least not succeed in the best possible way. In each of the challenges I give my salesman, the way an ideal salesman would succeed is by saying “The new version of the product has that feature. Aren’t we brilliant?” – however, the way our salesman succeeds will be by bluster and just about getting the customer to stay in the same room… in short, every challenge is got past, but failed until we get to the point where all is lost.

# Storytelling Techniques For Public Speakers : The Three Rules Of Three

Once you have a structure for your story, its time to start refining exactly how you are going to tell it. Again, we can learn from the vast history of oral tradition and storytelling the techniques which make speeches easy for the speaker to remember and easy for the audience to take in. the first set of techniques I’mm going to pass on, I have come to call the three rules of three.

Three is a magic number. Give someone two things, and they are unlikely to see the pattern – or at least the pattern you want them to see. Give them four things and there is too much to take in – something will be forgotton – there is space for bordom. No, three is where its at, which it comes to storytelling. Thats why there were three bears. And three wishes. And three men in a boat.

You can use this to your advantage

Rule 1: the first rule of three is repetition, repetition, repetition. If you want something to stick in the mind say it three times. Three? Yes three. Tony Blair – the former british prime minister – got elected with his soundbite stressing the importance of “Education education education” (he then proceeded to introduce university fees.). When you want to make a point, if you can repeat that pont another two times, you cam make it memorable, memorable memorable. Of course you don’t alway have to say the same words to make ideas stick. You can use different words and get good results. Varied words, making the same point, work just as well.

Rule 2: Make the third thing different. This is what I consider to be the goldilocks rule. Or the englishman, irishman, scotsman rule (another rule of three based joke – this is why the welsh are always removed from this particular branch of humour). This rule is people come to expect you to say things in threes. They expect you to say the same thing three times. But saying something different the third time is totally unexpected.

“Sarah was a good mother. She did everything she could for her children. She made them breakfast before school. She listened to them read every evening. And she sent them to bed early so they didn’t hear her sobbing about how she had given up the freedom of being childless every evening”

Note that the second rule of three works well with the first rule of three. breaking the story above down into 3 sections, morning, afternoon and evening gives people a pattern they can follow – a pattern they expect to repeat. But then making the first two things things we expect every good mother to do, but the third to be a question as to whether sarah really ever wanted to be a mother adds an extra element of shock. Which grabs the attention of the audience, and elicits an emotional reaction.

Rule 3: If you have some points to make, consider making 3 of them. People are good with threes, so if you have some number of points to make about a subject – some number of things you want the audience to do after the presentation, some number of reasons to back up a statement, some number of new rules to be introduced, try to make there be three things. (in particular this is a very handy tip when it comes to making impromptu speeches in meetings, start by saying something like “This is a really good idea for three reasons,” then come up with three things to say about why its a great idea. It will put you on the spot, but it will lodge your support in your audiences mind, and you’ll find they usually give you time to finish making all three points – which is good, because in meetings people judge how useful you are not by the quality of your ideas, but by how long you talk for)

Is it surprising there are three rules of three. Could I have come up with more? Possibly. but with three of them, you’ll remember them and put them into use when constructing your speech.

# “But My Content Is Boring…”

Its possible you’re thinking about your presentation and as far as you can tell, what you’ve got to say is boring. At this point, may I suggest you go back and check that

You know the message you want your audience to take home?

You have identified a conclusion?

You’ve found (or invented a person) to be your hero?

You’ve found some challenges for your hero to come across?

If so, then you probably already have a presentation which is less boring than most. Don’t worry about it being boring – work through the rest of these articles on presentations, and you’ll be fine.

The people remaining, who think their presentation is boring tend to be people who haven’t identified a hero. Lets look at why this happens:

“My presentation is all about facts and figures”

Let me tell you something: No one cares about facts and figures. Firstly, people don’t really understand numbers (thats why whenever the news talks about sizes and distances, they always say things like “An area of rainforest the size of belgium” or “a depth equal to 500 double decker busses” or “enough soup to fill 10 olympic swimming pools”). Secondly, even when people understand the size of the numbers you are talking about, they don’t care about the numbers, they care about what the numbers mean.

So if you’re reporting a 10% growth in profits, don’t just say that – tell people how much of a bonus they’ll be taking home – or, even better, tell people the stories about the key things that made this growth in profits happen. If you’re talking about domestic violence, don’t tell us the number of women who suffer it – tell us how likely it is that someone suffering from domestic violence lives in our street. And tell us the story of what someone can do about it.

Everything becomes interesting when you can build a story about it, and when you can help people relate to what you’re saying.

If your content is boring, pick a hero. Any hero. Pick someone affected by these numbers, or someone who was responsible for finding the numbers. Tell us how they did it. Teach us something we don’t know.

# How To Write A Presentation

Everyone has their own way of writing presentations, you’ve just seen the start of my process. Now I’m going to take you through what I do next. The following stages differ for different people, my suggestion is to follow my ideas the first time you have to prepare a presentation, and then, if you find something isn’t working for you, play around with it, try something different, mix it up and identify your own style.

The first thing I do is come up with a structure. Its the structure we’ve already seen. Its a pathway through the presentation from the beginning through to the end. The pathway guides a hero, overcoming challenges, leading the hero (and the audience) to the conclusion.

Now, I begin to think. I have the framework of a story, but not yet the full picture. I mull it about a bit – does anything jump out at me. Are there any ideas that I need to highlight, or group together. Am I always moving towards my conclusion? This can be done in the back of your mind, as your driving. It can be done alone in your office – or alone in a bathroom cubicle. Its a quiet, solitary time of playing with ideas – the sort of thing introverts are born to do. Don’t skimp on this – this is where you -as an introvert – are going to be at your best. It should be a recharging cathartic time of building mental palaces – then knocking them down and rebuilding them until you have everythign organised in your mind.

The next thing I do is write a first draft of the presentation. I start from scratch, remembering to cover each point – each challenge – each scene in turn. Right now its about getting something on paper (or in my case, generally something on the screen of a word processor). It doesn’t have to be perfect – indeed, one of the secrets of m system is it never has to be perfect. All you’re trying to do is make sure that each scene flows into the next, and that you have everything written down.

This is the time, by the way, to reinsert some of that supporting information you pulled off your list of bullet points. Now, when your hero is facing a challenge, you can quote some of those facts and figures, throw in some of that trivia, to make sure your audience are as informed about the hero’s world as they can be.

When you’ve got to the end, reread what you’ve written.

Are there any phrases you particularly like? highlight them.

Are there any phrases you think you could say better? rewrite them.

Are your facts and figures couched in ways that mean your audience can relate to them, and understand what they really mean?

Are there any places you can take advantage of storytelling techniques such as one of the three rules of three?

Now I’ve done this, I read through again, and I find each point that I’ve written – each important thing i have to say, and I note it down as a bullet point. I also note down any great turns of phrase – ways I want to say things on stage. Eventually I’m left with a list of buller points – these are my speakers notes – this is my presentation. these notes are what I’ll try to learn, and what I’ll use to jog my memory when I want to know where to go next.

This is the point where my presentation is written. From here on in, its all about the practice and the performance.

# The Presentation Handout

There is a problem with presentations. Sometimes you just have to get across large numbers of facts or figures. Sometimes you want people to take away ten idea or ten rules so badly it seems that you just have to put them on a bullet pointed list. Those web links, or books you want people to remember – they too have to be written down so that people can find them hours or days after the presentation.

The solution – for most people – is the slide deck. Put your data on the slides, and people can copy down the details. You might actually decide to make the slides available to your audience for later perusal. This is not my solution.

I will be addressing the horrors of the slide deck later. For now, it suffices to say that no hollywood movie tells you the plot by use of bullet points and clip art. And there is no need – or reason to tell your story this way. I will also remind you that the job of your presentation is to get your message across. And every time people are distracted from the message – by stopping to note down things they see on slides, for instance – you are losing your chance to convey the message as effectively as possible. You are losing the audiences attention. And you are probably losing the audience.

My solution is the handout.

Early on in your presentation pick up a handful of handouts and wave them at the audience. Tell them you’ve put down all the key points – and a few you won’t get to – in the handout. Tell them that every web address, email address and reference is in the handout. And tell them that you’ll distribute it after the talk.

After? Yes. if you hand out the handout during the talk, you’ll find your audience reading it, rather than listening to you. And if you could best convey your presentation by having it read, what are you doing on stage – a round robin email would have done the job.

So what goes in the handout?

My suggestion is that you take your presentation bullet points – the ones you wrote down in order to generate the challenges for your presentation’s hero and put them on paper. Then elaborate on them to make the handout readable.

the advantage of the handout is, unlike the presentation, it doesn’t need to tell a story. It’s a reference document and a reminder. Quite possibly its main job isn’t even to convey information, but rather to stop your audience from note talking. It can be dry and uninteresting. Stick to the facts. Add in all the information, and lists you think you need.

If you’ve cut any bullet points out of your presentation – because they didn’t fit into the story, or because you didn’t feel you had enough time to squeeze everything in – they can be put in the handout.

Add any diagrams you may need. Graphs. Flowcharts. Though you can probably avoid clip art.

Ensure you include your name and your email address – after all, this is still a self publicity document. Some people will use it for reference, and if you want those people to get in touch, they have to have the means to contact you – and to remember who you are if they only get around to taking action on your presentation weeks or months after you have presented it.

The handout isn’t meant to be high quality work. We are not talking about a book here. It isn’t meant to be a magazine article or a convincing essay. If it contains enough information to be better than most people’s notes, it has more than served its purpose. And if it avoids people contacting you to ask for information you have already given them in the presentation, you may well find it saves you some energy later on too.

# I’m Too Shy To Speak In Public

Not all introverts are shy. Not all shy people are introverts. Introversion is the feeling of being drained by being around people. It is an oversensitivity to stimulation. Being shy is a fear. It can be a fear of the judgement of others, or a fear of the judgement of yourself. But it is a fear – a fear which can be crippling, and which can prevent people from standing up and speaking.

I don’t claim I can cure everyone of shyness. But I do claim that some people are able to get over their shyness and speak with confidence and aplomb.

Shyness is a common problem for introverts. There can be many reasons why an introvert may – or may not – be shy, and several are worth examining:

We know from studies of twins that introversion is about 50% genetic, and about 50% environmental. Which is to say we know that, while you may be predisposed to being an introvert, something in your upbringing may well lead you into full blown introversion. Alternatively, you may not be genetically predisposed to introversion – but something in your upbringing may have so great an effect that you find yourself preferring peace and quiet to high stimulation environments. In both these cases, something external is required to tell the young, still developing, you that stimulation needs to be hidden from. A large number – if not all introverts are a product of their environment, and such environmental factors may not only lead to a need to retreat from the world occasionally, but also lead to a fear of engaging with it.

Introverts, as they grow up, will naturally attempt to spend less time in social situations than extroverts. The more introverted you are, the less time you are able to spend socially without becoming exhausted. Many introverts opt to spend their spare time doing something other than socialising. And what this means is that while introverts are busy reading, thinking, and growing their interior lives, extroverts are practising their social and relationship skills. Even by the time a child begins school, it is likely that an extrovert will be much more practised at making friends than an introvert. The learned behaviours in these early days can last a lifetime.

The extravert world itself can also play a part in making the introvert feel small and unworthy. Extroverts shout their ideas out loud, whereas introverts tend to hone their ideas quietly, then express them softly. Introverts ideas can be drowned out, or dismissed by a domineering extrovert crowd. An already shy introvert may feel rejected – or lacking in value. Such reinforcement (which can occur over and over, not just in the workplace, but in other worlds such as teenage relationships and social and religious groupings) can link speaking up witha whole range of other internal fears.

No. It is no surprise that many introverts are shy.

However, for many, shyness is something you can conquer, especially once you know what it is you are dealing with.

It is fair to say “I am an introvert”. It seems introversion is a key part of our personality makeup. It is unlikely to change. To say “I am shy” is, however, not entirely a reasonable statement. Shyness is not something you are, it is something you feel, a reaction to a particular circumstance.

There are many times in your life that you are confident.

Almost no one (over the age of 4) says “I am too shy to walk”. For the physically able, walking is something we all do with confidence. No-one is too shy to breath, or too shy to blink. The idea of not being confient in your ability to blink sounds faintly ridiculous. So you are not shy about everything you do. You are shy about very particular things. This is a powerful lesson – you are not shy. Rather shyness is something you sometimes experience.

With that shift in understanding, shyness – and the particular times you experience it – becomes something you can handle.

Before we go on, I want to remind you that overcoming shyness for an introvert can be a powerful change – but while it will open many doors, it does not remove the fact that for an introvert socialising is tiring. Overcoming shyness will, at times, take some amount of will power – this too is tiring. It is unwise to try tos overcome all of your shyness by willpower at once. People are tiring, you are just setting yourself up for failure. Keep very much in tune with your energy levels – only push when you have a lot of energy. Continue to make use of quiet times to recharge – indeed, if you want to be more social, you need to get better at looking out for opportunities to rechange, and to take more of them.

[As the articles on public speaking grow, I will be adding more information about overcoming shyness - look at the sidebar, and come back over the next few days to find out more]

# Shyness – Rational and Irrational Fears

When it comes to fears, the fears we hold deep inside us, we need to distinguish between two types.

We have the rational fears – the fears of real, possible consequences – the fears of genuine danger. A person with a fear of heights would never jump off a high cliff: in this case, his fear is real, such a jump would be hugely dangerous. A person with a fear of spiders has less of a rational fear… while there are dangerous spiders in the world, for the most part they are few and far between, and once you have identified a spider as being – rationally – harmless, any remaining fear is irrational.

Irrational fears are no less real. They affect us physically, make us jump or quake, sweat or shiver. I’m not saying that irrational fears are bad fears – fears that it should be in any way embarrassing to have. Everybody has irrational fears. They are normal, and perfectly acceptable. However in approaching irrational fears we need to take a different tactic from approaching the rational.

Shyness is a complaint which crosses the boundary between the irrational and rational. The bullied schoolchild might be perfectly rational in is fear of talking to a classmate – not just fear, but experience might suggest it never ends well. A bullied office employee might feel the same about their manager. However, what may have once been rational arguments have, over time, turned into irrational patterns of behaviour. That many people fear public speaking more than they fear death is clearly irrational. Uncontrollable shaking before speaking – the sort of shaking which might, perhaps be rational before a parachute jump – is clearly not a rational – or particularly helpful response.

To begin with, lets deal with the rational fears of public speaking. In short they all amount to one big issue: the idea that in front of someone (or a group of people) who are able to play an influential part in your future life, you might perform in such a way as to make those people want to influence your future negatively. You may also worry about worrying about this – which is essentially what embarrassment is. And you may worry about receiving criticism – in short you may worry that your speaking may lead them to act in such a way as to trigger your fear of rejection. (Both embarrassment and fear of rejection are also a combination of the rational and irrational – you can approach those, and indeed other fears by following the processes I will be providing in this and future articles)

There are a few ways you can manage yourself – or your situation – to rid yourself of all these rational fears.

1. You can choose to speak in a safe environment. Not all public speaking needs to be in a dangerous situation. It is possible to take small steps in a far friendlier setting – public speaking courses, public speaking self help groups and organisations like Toastmasters International all offer this sort of chance.

2. You can realise that to produce an impressive presentation, you don’t need to be great, you only need to look good by comparison. If you prepare well, and use the techniques I am offering, you will be a better speaker than the majority of your competition. Reasonably simple techniques – techniques like moving around the stage and not saying ‘err’, which we will discuss later – will make you look exceptionally good at speaking.

3. You can test your environment to see how dangerous it actually is. Ask a few people who have been in the situation what usually happens. To be honest, the most common complaint of someone who gives a presentation is not that it had a negative impact, but that it had no impact at all. By asking around (and by all means do this by email, if you don’t feel you can manage it face to face), you may realise the danger of the situation is far less than you imagined.

4. Ask yourself ‘What is the worst that can happen? The absolute worst? How bad could ti possibly be?’ Than ask yourself, how hard would it be to actually cause that sort of result. Them become more realistic. What is a realistic worst outcome? Is that likely? What would you do in that situation? How bad would that situation really be? How long would it take to get over it and back to normal? Then ask yourself ‘What is the best, most amazing outcome of giving this presentation?’ Is it worth taking the opportunity?

None of this matters if you still have irrational fears. Irrational fears can’t be reasoned with.

The way to handle irrational fears that I have found effective are:

Control your energy. If you are tired, stressed, angry, or over socialised, you won’t be in a good situation to face your fear head on. So make sure you are able to be in a good place before facing the challenge. Meditate. Listen to motivational tapes. Do whatever you need.

Practice, practice, practice. Join a speaking group. Become a member of Toastmasters. Every time you can speak in a place you know is safe, no matter how much it scares you, you will be teaching yourself that you can face an audience. Repeated exposure to your fear – and repeatedly overcoming it in a supportive atmosphere will do wonders for when you need to face it in the real world.

Prepare. Learn your presentation word for word. While I generally don’t recommend repeating your presentation off pat, if you’re worried, make sure you know it. Bring notes with you – bring the whole presentation written out if you really need too. Being prepared provides a sense of confidence, a sense of control. As you get experience in public speaking, you will learn that you are far more in control than you might expect. But for now, the control preparation gives you will act as a reliable safety blanket as you take to the stage.

Mindfulness. What was once a far eastern practice, is now a well established psychological practice. Mindfulness involves getting to know your fear. Feel where your fear is in your body – think about what that feeling of fear is in your mind. Pay attention to it, keep observing it, thinking how interesting it is your body feels this way. Don’t stop watching it. Don’t do anything else. Don’t try to get rid of it, don’t try to control it. Just notice that it is there, and keep watching it. Anything you observe for tool long becomes boring – you’ll be shocked at how much this helps you take control of your fear – so long as you don’t get frustrated at the fear for remaining. Love your fear – it is only your mind trying to protect you. Thank it. And if it goes – when it goes, just let it go.

# 4 Reasons To Be Confident About Your Presentation

As you prepare to go up to the stage, it is good to reflect on the reasons you have to be confident that your presentation is likely to succeed and impress its message upon the audience.

#### The Bar Is Set Low

The majority of presentations are awful. I’ve sat through them, you’ve sat through them, everyone in the audience has sat through them. Awful is what your audience is expecting. If a presentation is ‘reasonable’ your audience will be happy. A good, solid, well structured, entertaining presentation is beyond their normal hopes – such presentations are few and far between. I’ve known good presenters who get told years later that someone remembers them speaking – and I’ve known bad presenters who I haven’t recognised in the hallway outside their presentation. All you have to do to be remembered – and for your message to be remembered – is to aim above the bar. Its an easy target.

#### You Are Prepared

The most obvious flaw in other people’s presentations is under preparation. We’ve already discussed the main reason why: for the extravert the presentation, the act of presenting, is the thing. When an extravert is asked to present, he thinks a little about what his slides should look like, and a lot about the energy he will get from being on stage. The extravert doesn’t like the hours spent planning, researching and crafting his presentation – so frequently he decides to shorten this time and wing it. In most cases this leads to poor results.

As an introvert, you (and I) are not going to want to think about being on stage – indeed, we keep that to the back of our minds while we do the prep work. It is the time we spend before the presentation that allows us to be confident we are going to say exactly what we want to say in exactly the manner we want the audience to hear it.

Planning is only part of the presentation (an important part – and we will talk about the performance – the other part – later), but it is part you can be certain you have nailed, because it is the part of presenting that fits an introverts nature.

#### You Are In Control

You may not realise this, but when you give a presentation, you are in control.

The presenter is in a position of authority, and the audience, sitting in their chairs, waiting to hear what you have to say, innately respect this. You get to set the ground rules early on. If I know I’m going to face a barrage of questions about the subject of my speech – and I know I have already put work into leading the audience to where I found the correct answers – then I start my speech by telling them:

“I’m going to lead you through the process that led to this particular design. I know you’re going to have questions, so I ask you to wait until the end, by which time I hope that I’ll have answered them”.

If I don’t want people taking notes, I tell them ahead of time

“I’ve put down all the details in a handout we’ll pass out after the presentation, so there is no need to take notes. You’ve all got my email address in case there are any details you want to clarify later”

But this is’t the only control you have. On stage you have the right to speak. You have the right to express your ideas. You don’t have to think about what the next guy is going to say, or worry about making yourself heard. You may be talking – but you have been given the platform, and the time to prepare your thoughts into finely honed, well polished perfection. You don’t often get this chance – an opportunity to express yourself and your ideas safely. Normally if you want to get an extravert to hear you (which requires talking to them… extraverts don’t like to hole themselves away and read like you or I might), you’re fighting against your natural instincts. When you are on stage, it is your once chance to be yourself.

#### You Are An Actor

Lots of actors are introverts. This shocks many people, but it never shocked me. I always knew I was an actor. Not a stage actor, mind you, nor was I a big star of hollywood movies, yet I acted every day and a good number of people found the character I portrayed believable.

I am not my body. I am not the person people outside know as Ben. I’m an introvert – my life is an interior one – the person I am lives inside my head, this is where I enjoy playing with ideas, thinking, creating, learning and relaxing. Outside my head, the ‘real world’ is a foreign place, but its a place I have learned to live in and interact with.

But I never feel anyone in the real world has met the real me, the whole me.

They meet the character I portray.

And I’ve grown to be a damn good actor.

I play a number of roles – Work Ben – the guy I am in the office, Home Ben – the loving husband and deep thinker, and Social Ben who enjoys a few pints and bullshitting with a select group of cose friends.

When I step onto the stage, I’ve learned to play a different character. My on stage character is a lot like me – his voice is slightly different – he uses more gestures and holds stronger, more confident beliefs about himself. I’ve started to call him ‘Presentation Ben’ because I’ve realised that is the act I put on when I speak.

All the tricks we as introverts have used to get by in the real world, we can use on stage. While an extravert goes on stage and tries to be themselves, we have the option of going on stage and portraying a skilled and brilliant presenter.

Your motivation is to convey your message. The houselights are dimmed, ad you hear your cue. Its time for your scene. Break a leg.

# Your Performance : Using The Stage

Giving a presentation isn’t (unfortunately) only about the preparation – at some point, you are also going to have to perform. The performance is a show – its a bout being a character, someone other than yourself, and its about keeping in control. It is a situation which, rather counter-intuitively gives you all the power. What you have to learn is how to hold on to the power and how to use it to add to the impact of your presentation.

Your first tool, in giving a performance, is the stage.

The stage can vary. Sometimes you are up on a platform, at other times you stand on the floor amongst a horseshoe of seated people. often you will simply be standing up from your seat at a meeting table. But in all these situations, you have a stage, you have an area of space which you use to perform.

Think, for a moment, about presentations you have attended. How often do the boring speakers stand in one place, hiding behind something – perhaps behind a desk, or behind a lectern? When faced with public speaking, many people naturally and instinctively look for somewhere to hide. Rationally, we all know that hiding isn’t going to save us – you will be giving the same presentation, no matter what you put between yourself and the audience. But there is the rub, by putting things between yourself and the audience, you are not only hiding yourself – but you are also hiding your presentation – you are putting physical and mental barriers between the audience and your message.

So when you take to the stage, stand where you can be seen. Clearly, unobstructed, open.

Look around you – you have an audience, but you also have space. They are penned into their seats, often sat tightly, shoulder to shoulder, without much room to move. You, on the other hand, have room in which to move around. Feel the space, and be willing to move around into it, because my moving, you are – no matter how you feel inside – projecting an image of confidence and dominance.

Lets look at how the stage works:

First, consider the obstacles: there might be a podium or a desk. Ideally you want to move these out of the way. If you can’t do that, the next best action is to stand in front of them – to consider them the back of your working area. In short, don’t let the things on the stage get in the way of how you want to work – and certainly don’t let the fact that there is a lectern, pulpit, or chair determine how you are going to stand or sit when presenting to your audience.

On stage, you can move in four directions – left and right, forwards and backwards. Some people, when they present, have a habit of striding back and forth from the left to the right of the stage – this is a nervous habit, and isn’t what I mean when I say ‘use the space’. Rather, pick a spot on which to base yourself – a place to start your presentation. Don’t move from left to right, rather turn to the left, or to the right to engage with a certain section of your audience. As a speaker, it is your job to connect with everybody you are speaking to, so take time to look out towards your audience – turn to make eye contact with the people at the far left, the far right, the front and the back. When you want to make a point, make a connection with someone – anyone – in the audience.

Moving forwards and backwards is different. Moving forwards has an impact. Move forwards when you want to shock, when you want to impress a point, or when you want to share something. Moving forward brings you closer to your audience.

A while ago I was giving a technical presentation – one of many the audience had listened to that day. Like the other speakers, I started standing near a desk which was being used by the engineers controlling the various demos. Immediately I moved in front of the desk, so as not to let it obstruct me, and I began to talk – my talk was on the subject of ‘new features in a particular product’, however I was spinning it as ‘our journey to find ways of making your life easier’. The talk was going well, I was getting the key concepts across, but I reached a point where I had to explain a very tricky technical concept to the audience. Now I had prepared for this – I knew exactly how I was going to get it across: I had developed a metaphor to explain everything. But I also knew that I needed to have the audiences unswerving attention. So while previously I had been moving around a small space – mainly using the space to support my expressive body language, I chose this point to expand the space I was using. I stepped much close the the audience, and rather than talking about the technical subjects, I began talking about them, including the audience in my presentation.

Suffice to say, the presentation worked, and the audience (who had been grilling the guys before me on the most minor of details) gave me an easy ride through the question and anser session which followed.

By moving around the stage, I had kept hold of their interest – distracting them fromt he screens, and indeed from their notes – and, at the crucial point, I had moved towards them, drawing them in. This is what stage movement is all about.

Use the stage. Don’t use it to find somewhere to hide. Don’t use it to walk off your nervous energy. But take advantage of the space. Use it to show that you are confident. Use it to bring people closer to you. And perhaps use it like an actor – stepping to one side to share a secretive ‘aside’ with the audience.

To finish, leaving the presentation centred, you can draw back to your home, centred position, and, if applause follows, you can move forwards again to accept it.

The important thing to remember is, the stage will let you own it, if you take it. The power is there for you to control, your job is to grab it.

# Your Performance : Using Your Body

Two men walk out onto the stage.

One holds back. His hands are clasped in front of him, protecting him (at least symbolically) from the audience. He looks down, reads from his notes, doesn’t really catch our eyes.

The other stands up straight. He looks out over the audience, acknowledging the people whose faces he brushes with his eyes. His hands are sometimes by his sides, but often in front of him, making strong broad gestures to emphasise his points. He is dymanic.

Which is the more confident?

You might be tempted to say the latter. The second man seems more confident, and the audience will trust his because he is confident of what he is saying. But actually, the second man is simply aware of what he is doing on the stage and aware of what looks good to his audience.

Its all about being aware of your body. And there is nothing new about what a confident looking speaker does.

“Stand up straight” you were probably admonished by an older relative, perhaps a grandmother or great aunt.

“Hands out of your pockets”

“Don’t scowl”

“Look at me when I’m talking to you” (well, more like when you’re talking to me – talking, even from a stage, is a two way street, a two way communication”

These are the things you need to be aware of. Think of how you walk onto the stage. Do you stride on proudly? Do you rush on? Do you slink on, hoping (despite being in front of everybody) that no-one will notice you – because you’re slightly embarrassed to be there?

How would it feel if you were being called onto the stage to be given a medal for some act of heroism? To come onto stage to the applause of everyone in the room – people who are all here because they want to hear everything you have to say, because possibly they just want to be near a man like you. Can you feel that? Would it be different from how you currently walk onto the stage? Would you walk taller? Perhaps throw your shoulders back? Grin at the audience, with a strong knowing smile. Pause and enjoy the moment?

Then perhaps that is how you should begin. Your body is sending signals to the audience. It is saying “I deserve to be hear. Treat me like a hero”. But it is also saying the same things to you. You’ll feel not just the butterflies that the adrenaline gives you, but also the warmth of inner confidence – and, however brief that might be, it is better for it to be there than not. It is necessary to tap into the inner reservoir of speaking talent you may otherwise never reach.

the next thing to be aware of is what you do with your body

Do you rock from side to side?

Do you clasp your hands in front of you? Or play with your fingers.

Do you stand deadly still, worried that if you move lions (or the audience – who may be just as dangerous) will see you?

Stop it.

How? that is the rub. You can’t just stand still. The answer is to throw yourself into your words. Start simple. Walk around and use the stage. That will stop you rocking. If you are talking about emotions, mime those emotions – don’t worry about over acting – from a stage, all actors have to overact to get their message across to the back of the room, and any acting is more than most people hearing a speaker expect to receive. If you are talking about something big, mime ‘big’ with your hands – or with your body. If you are taking about something small, mime small with your hands, or crouch down into a little ball.

Now the audience – and you – are not just hearing your presentation, they are beginning to feel it.

If you’re counting “There are three things you need to know” then show people one, two three on your fingers. If you have a choice between this and that, then this is on one side of you and that is on the other. You can move between the two spots you show your audience as you talk about them.

And thats just the beginning. If you feel it, do it.

You’ll always have a few bad habits. Me, I bunch my hands into fists. I punch with them to make my points. This can be a good thing in small doses, but I do it too much. Just be vigilant to what actions you repeatedly make, and try to control them the next time you talk to a crowd. In time, you’ll gain control over your body, and your presentations will gain from it.

# Your Performance : Using Your Voice

You use your voice to speak, and the heart of your presentation comes from what you say. So your voice is very important.

It isn’t all about projecting your voice – these days microphones mean that vocal projection isn’t as important as it used to be – but projection is still a skill which is worth exploring, as knowing how to project your voice gives you lots of opportunities to alter how you use your voice – and to make your presentation more memorable.

The way to project your voice is like this:

1. Stand up straight.

2. Feel yourself breathing. Try to breath from deep down, blow your chest. Imagine the air is coming in and out of your belly button. Breath slowly and feel the breath. Feel your stomach rising as you breath in and falling as you breath out.

3. Smile. This raised your cheekbones, which gives the inside of your mouth more volume, and lets your voice echo inside – we all know we sound better singing in the bathroom – the echo adds a tonality to your voice which makes it sound richer.

4. Look at people at the back of the audience, your voice is going to have to carry to them, so make sure you are connecting with them

5. Wait until you have breathed all the way in, and your stomach has risen, then begin talking. When you talk, imagine your voice is coming from inside your stomach.

6. Speak clearly. Annunciate every syllable of every word.

This doesn’t take much practice. Follow these instructions and your voice will carry better the next time you speak.

Now people can hear your voice, lets look at the things you can do to make it sound better. First, lets consider speed. Many people speak too fast. Much like the use of the body, speaking quickly is something you have to notice if you’re guilty of, then slow down. As a tip for most speakers: if it sounds like you are speaking too slowly, you’re probably speaking at the right speed. Slow, careful diction sounds considered and will thought out, whereas the fast ramblings – even of the genius mind – sound distant and confusing. As you have more practice speaking, try varying to speed at which you speak. I go faster when I want something to sound complicated and technical – or when I want to sound very excited, and slower when I really want to ram. a. point. home.

Now you need to consider the tonality of your voice. There is nothing more boring than listening to someone speaking to an audience in a monotone (well, actually there is: someone reading there speech to an audience in a monoton). The monotone makes whatever you say lack humanity and emotion. To avoid this, really try to emote when you are speaking. If you are happy smile, if you are discussing something sad, scowl – your voice will carry the emotions with you. As with your body, don’t be afraid to overact.

You can also adapt your volume. If you are following the advice I gave earlier on projection, it is quite possible to speak quietly and still be heard at the back of the room. You can use this to share secrets (its the old stage whisper), to show humility or fear. Speaking loudly adds confidence, and switching from quiet to loud can scare the audience – making them jump and take note of what you’re saying. Its a trick countless head teachers have used in school assemblies (and of course, along with stand up comics, teachers are some of the most practiced public speakers you will come across)

The are to sounding good when you speak is mixing up all of the techniques above, matching them with the things you have to say. You can plan this in advance, but also, you can do it on the spot, taking in what you feel from the audiences reaction. If you both feel what your audience feel, and you also feel the meaning of the words, and then you bring this feeling out when you speak, you’ll have created a sound people want to pay attention to.

# Your Performance : Using Other People

Having looked at yourself – how you use the stage, your body language and non-verbal gestures and even the tone of your voice, its time to think about one more part of your performance, one you might not have considered:

Other people.

When you perform – when you present – even when you talk to someone else, there are always more than one person involved. You may be there presenting, but everyone else is there listening. A great presentation – a great performance not only delivers the message to them – it engages your audience and mankes them take the message in.

How does one do that?

We’ve talked about lots of the tricks and techniques of speakers in other articles – but a good example is one I’ve just given. Ask your audience a question. Asking a question is simple, but anyone who hears the question begins – automatically – to come up with a response. They are not just hearing what you’re saying, but listening to it. A rhetorical question is a great start – and perhaps easy for people who are nervous of their crowd, but better still can be to ask for a show of hands – something that really makes people stand up and pay attention (and – if you want, you can always ask people to stand up rather than raising their hands – that really makes them pay attention)

A lot of speakers like to keep their audience by making them laugh. While the art of humour in speeches would require a book on its own, I’m sure you’re used to the experience of telling a joke – and then not getting the laugh you want. Don’t be afraid of this, every audience is different. and as a speaker you have to get to learn the sort of crowd you are playing to. If a joke doesn’t work, tell another. A small titter is enough, once a crowd are laughing, they wil carry on giggling more and more as you continue. And because they are being entertained, information is sneaking into their heads without them noticing (which is, perhaps, the aim of the most cunning presenter). Feel you audience, read their laughs, and, if after a while the jokes arn’t working, go onto something else.

Try to shock your audience. Do something they don’t expect. If you need to jump in the air, to shout suddenly, to hit yourself, or to fall to the ground, don’t be afraid. If you think your audience are fearing your presentation is going to be dull and boring, make sure they’re wrong. Use things out of context – talking about going to the pub in a work presentation can really shift the mood. Telling a story about someone else, then revealing it was you that the event happened to can make a room full of people side with you. Sharing something from your history that most people would keep hidden is an easy way to grab attention (and sometimes sympathy) – I started a presentation with the phrase “I escaped from the mental hospital fifteen years ago – and so far I haven’t been caught” – the speech was about overcoming depression, but the opening sentence certainly drew the crowds attention.

Finally, as well as considering your audience, consider the other people that will have been speaking to them. I’ve seen a lot of people speak in a lot of different contexts, and I’m sure you’ll agree, most people who speak – even some professional public speakers – are pretty terrible.

Your job is not to be the best public speaker in the world. It isn’t even to be the best public speaker at an event. Your job is to be in the top quarter. The top twenty-five percent. And this is easy. A little practise and the information I’ve provided is enough to get anybody to this level in almost any situation. On’ve you’re in the top quarter, people will compare you to the other speakers and be so glad that you’re someone who knows what they are doing, someone who appreciates that performance is as importance as information content in a speach, that they will listen to you – they will want to be your friend.

Entertaining your crowd will get them on your side. And once you’ve got the crowd on your side, you really can’t lose. You will make a presentation everybody wants to talk about.

# Dangerous Distractions

In most social situations, the last thing I want to do is draw attention to myself – such is the curse of shyness. I already feel – secretly believe – that people pay far more attention to me than they really do.

Public speaking isn’t like that.

When you are performing in front of a crowd, speaking in public, presenting to the board, what you want is for people to hear your message. And that means you want people to pay attention to you. In previous articles I’ve written about grabbing the attention, and using stagecraft to keep people interested, but there is one more thing we need to do – and that is avoid anybody, or anything else becoming more interesting that you.

There are a variety of things which will distract people. Phones are distracting – not just because they buzz in someone’s packet causing that person to (hopefully) leave the room in order to take the call – but also because the ring tone can irritate others in the room, and because these days phones are themselves attention magnets, allowing the crowd to text, tweet, and surf the web. So where it is possible, please encourage to set phones to silent and put them away.

In other settings, it is increasingly common to see people using their laptops while you’re talking. And if your crowd are anything like, me, they will soon be drawn away from the ostensible use of note taking, to surfing the web. This is why I always try to make sure people are aware that full notes will be available after the session.

The notes are available after the session, because notes are distracting too. If you hand out notes before you speak, not only will people be tempted to annotate them, they’ll also choose to read the note rather than actually listen to what you’re saying. So while a handout is important, handing it out after the session (but making sure people know it will be available before you start talking) is a must.

If notes are bad, so too are slides. The moment you put slides up on a screen behind you, people’s attention is grabbed away from what you’re saying and onto whatever you’ve written. We can’t help but read. If you’ve filled a slide with bullet points, or covered it with text, we are going to read everything – and we’ll certainly read it faster than you’re going to say them. We’ll miss any extras you’re adding – and we’ll be borded by you, because we’ll always be ahead.

In short, don’t write things on slides.

Sometimes you can’t avoid slides. And sometimes a lack of slides will make you look unprepared. So my solution is simple: Think of your presentation like a magazine article. Only use slides where a magazine article would put something that isn’t in the main body of the text: perhaps a graph. Perhaps a title. Maybe, if you really have to, a quote. Photos are great. If you can find a photo (or take a photo) which illustrates some aspect of what you’re talking about, put it up there, then ignore it (other than maybe to say who the photo shows) – after all, if you’re telling a story with a hero, there is nothing wrong with letting people get a picture of what the hero looks like.

Diagrams can go on slides – sometimes diagrams can be really useful to help explain what is going on – and you have the chance to animate things, which helps further. But when you’re done with the diagram, get rid of it. And make sure you recapture the crowds attention.

Beyond slides, there are other things that can lose the attention of the audience. Technical problems are the most frequent – so be prepared – make sure you’re not relying on technology. If you’ve followed my advice about slides, everything will work, even without them, so you should be fine. If you’ve followed my advice about speaking, you should be able to project your voice so a microphone won’t be necessary. Sometimes you have to rely on technology – in videoconferences and webinars, for instance. In these cases, get everything checked out before you start. Have a test drive. When technology fails, you’re not just wasting your own time, and losing all the benefits you have gained from cleverly designing your speech, you’re also wasting the valuable time of all of your audience. In my view, that isn’t just lazy or incompetent behaviour, it is outright rude.

If you are using technology, also, get somebody else to control it (except for the slide clicker, which you should never let anybody control – as telling someone to change to the next slide is also very distracting). You should rehearse your presentation, so that the person controlling the technology knows what to do without being told.

One time I failed to do this, I was demonstrating a piece of software, while also controlling it. I had failed to realise I would be speaking with a hand held microphone. So there I was, on stage, mouse in one hand, microphone in another. I was thinking about the microphone and mouse so much, and worrying about what was on the screen to such an extent, that I forgot to look up and engage with the audience. Right there I learned my lesson – please learn it too, so that you never make the same mistake.

# Answering Questions

I like to leave questions to the end of any presentation I give – or, in a long presentation or training session I like to leave questions until before a break. I let the audience know this ahead of time, as I genuinely want them to think about things and ask me the things they need me to expand on – if for no other reason, than this helps me work out what I need to spend more effort on next time.

For an introvert answering questions on stage can be daunting. But personally I find it easier than answering questions in a one-to-one setting – here is why:

When you’re on stage, you are in control. You can decide how you want to answer a question, and how you want to frame it. The person in the audience generally won’t be interrupting – they’ll wait for you to finish saying you piece before asking any further points. This lets you take the question where you want to go, and explain everything you can about it before you need to fear another question. Moreover, the questioner won’t be able to come back and ask more and more detailed questions too often – the other members of the audience become irritated with someone who is asking too many questions – and having everyone else on your side reinforces you’re ability to take charge of the situation.

The best way to answer questions is – I find – to follow the formula below:

1. Stand up straight, pause and take a breath. Think about the question.

2. Repeat the question. This is often important if you’re being recorded (because the questioner is likely not to have used the microphone well), but more important if you’re not using a microphone (because the speaker may not project their voice well and even if they do, they are unlikely to be projecting it towards the audience). While you repeat the question, you have more time to think about how you will answer it, and also, you are ensuring you’ll be answering the question that was asked. (it is easy to think you’re being asked a different question, and then not pay attention to what the questioner actually says)

3. Remember to be in your speaking personality. I at least, differentiate between my speaking personality and my usual day to day personality. The speaker is someone I become when on stage. I have to actively remember to be the speaker when I answer questions, it is too easy to slip into being my less confident, less skilled self.

4. Treat answering the question as a mini speech. Try, if you can to structure it. The rule of 3 is a great thing to use here. Even if you don’t know exactly where your answer is going, you can start off by saying “There were three factors which led to our decision:” then go through three important factors one at a time.

You might also want to consider telling a brief story of what happened in a meeting, or what led to a decision if one springs to mind. Even if the story isn’t totally relevant it will give you a structure to hang your answer off.

5. Don’t be afraid to pause briefly and gather your thoughts. These pauses will feel like an eternity to you, but to the audience they feel brief – and make you look like you are calm and in control.

6. Don’t take things personally – if you’re taking about your work, or even about someone else’s work, you might feel it is your jod to defend it – or worse that people asking questions are attacking you personally. This isn’t true, your job is to explain the background, and why you’ve made the decisions you made, and to understand any problems the questioner might have so that you can address them in the future.

7. Be prepared to suggest meeting after the presentation to talk about something if you don’t feel you’ve managed to satisfy a questioner and want to move on.

You will often find people wanting to talk to you after a presentation. For some of my extravert friends, this is the reason why they give presentations – so they can be the centre of attention. For me, its not so good. Once a presentation is finished, I tend to feel overstimulated. So I try to keep post-presentation chats short, and instead arrange times later in the week – if possible – to discuss matters in more depth.

# Coming Back To Earth

Introverts are more easily stimulated than extraverts, thats why social activities are so tiring, we have to manage so much more stimulation and excitement than extraverts. Public speaking of any kind is therefore likely to leave most introverts in a state of hyper-stimulation. When I feel this, I feel somewhat detached from reality, with adrenaline flowing and everything feeling very fast and very big.

It is a tiring state – and while it seems to be a valuable state when it comes to speaking in public, it isn’t a state I would want to stay in for too long following a presentation – I worry it would lead to me making snap decisions and using poor judgement. Moreover, the longer I spend being hyper stimulated, the longer it takes me to come down, and the more tired I get.

So following a presentation, and perhaps spoken to all the people I need to speak to afterwards (and perhaps got their contact details, so I can follow up with them later), I like to take myself somewhere quiet – where I’m not going to be found. A toilet cubical is a very good choice, as is your car (though I wouldn’t recommend driving straight away). What you want to do is calm down, so I suggest the following exercises:

Mindfulness – when preparing to speak, I suggested paying attention to your body, and everything it was feeling. Not trying to suppress, or deny any feeling, but just noticing it, and noticing the physical affects it is having on you. Also notice the other sensations you are feeling (which can include the feeling of the toilet seat underneath you, and the smell of the bleach blocks in the urinals if you are hiding out in a WC). This is a very useful first thing to do to calm down, when you’re heard is beating, or your brain is rushing too fast because of how stimulated you are.

Breathing. Once you have taken control of yourself through mindfulness, slow breathing is very calming. Again, be mindful of your breathing, feeling the sensation (it can be shockingly pleasurable – even sensual). Breath in for a count of three, hold your breath for a count of three, then breath out for a count of three, and repeat for as long as you need.

Centre yourself. Imagine all the physical feelings of nervousness and stimulation flowing down from your head, through your body and out of your feet. If you need a bit of help doing this, stroke yourself from your face, down your chest, over your stomach and down your legs to you feet, imagining the feeling is a black liquid, washing all your stresses away.

Once you’re done with this, and calm, go and find something to eat and drink. You may well have dehydrated yourself slightly and you’ve certainly used up a decent amount of energy (especially if you’ve been jumping all over the stage, like I recommend), so if you have to treat yourself to a chocolate bar, feel free. You deserve it. Some people like to treat eating as another grounding ritual – it is certainly worth eating slowly and mindfully rather than just gulping it down to quench any emotional eating urge you may have.

Finally, go and find somewhere quiet to be, and do something non-stressful which doesn’t involve people for an hour or two. Something you enjoy is best, alone. Reading, perhaps writing or listening to another speaker, but not communicating.

Recovering from presenting can be hard for an introvert – and this isn’t unusual. Because of this, I would seriously suggest that it is a bad idea to have too many speaking engagements on the same day. If you do, you want to keep them next to one another with no gap, so you don’t hit the second speech while you are on the way down from the hyper-stimulation of the first.

# Taking Your Speaking Forwards

Once you’ve given your first presentation or speech, you’ll be looking to find out how to improve, so that your next presentation goes even better, and you’re ideas can be spread further and wider.

My first suggestion is to practice. Practice Practice Practice. It isn’t only how you get to Carnegie Hall, it is also how you get to be better – at speaking or almost anything else you may care to think off. As you’ve read some of the stories I’ve told, one way you learn is through making mistakes. Where possible, it is nice to make those mistakes in a friendly, forgiving environment. And while your workplace is probably more friendly and forgiving than you might imagine, it is worth looking for other places to practice speaking.

One suggestion is to take public speaking lessons – either one to one, or as part of a small group. My recommendation is to find a teacher who encourages everybody to practise as much as possible during the training, rather than someone who simply teaches from a presentation deck. I’m biased here, but I would recommend you contact

adelina@presentinggoodpractice.co.uk

and see how she is able to help you take your public speaking forwards.

Alternatively, for regular practice, repetition and notes on how to improve your speaking, you can’t beat going to meetings of Toastmasters International. Toastmasters groups have helped millions of people, all over the world, improve their public speaking and presentation skills. There is almost certainly a toastmasters group near you who will long to have you as a member. And the pricing is shockingly reasonable – far cheaper than most presentation training courses. You can come out of Toastmasters not only with improves speaking skills, but with widely recognised qualifications and a new group of friends and business contacts.

see

www.toastmasters.org

for more details.

Beyond practicing, you can also look to see how your messages can be carried further. In a very short time, you can get a reputation for writing good speeches – so much so that other people will ask you to help with theirs. This is a great opportunity, as it lets you influence what they are going to say and allows you to communicate with an audience without having to exert yourself socially.

For many introverts the role of being the power behind the throne is much more desirable than always being in the spotlight. So if you can find yourself one or two extraverts who long for the limelight, but don’t like to spend the time researching and writing their speeches, encourage them to work with you. You’ll get a lot of thanks, and you’ll get to do the sort of work you love while remaining peaceful and quiet.

Finally, don’t take on too much. Right now it is possible that you are excited. Your speaking is going well, you are progressing in your career faster than ever before. Everybody wants a piece of you. Remember to relax. Remember to honour your energy. There is only one of you, and you can only do so much. If it means rejecting things, saying no, turning down offers in order to keep your sanity, do it. You are more valuable than your speeches, don’t let yourself get burned out.

And enjoy yourself.

Public speaking can be a pathway to success for introverts, and you’ve taken your first step.

My second NaNoWriMo attempt, after The Principles was another piece of teen fiction.  A follow up of sorts.  Based loosely on something which had happened to me a few years earlier.  Though all the names, genders, locations and ages and actual events were changed to protect the innocent.

This was a failure – I never reached the end, and never felt the urge to continue with it.  Not that I don’t think it might be worth continuing, but it never got to the end, and I don’t remember right now where I was intending the story to go.  I certainly can’t find any record of any planning about what was going to happen next.  For anyone who chooses to read on: if I recall, it was going to pretty quickly turn out that Gee and Eugene were the same person.  There was going to be a romatic triangle (sort of thing) where Dervla wanted Eugene, Eugene wanted Ronni, Ronni wanted Todd, and all the while everyone was confiding in Mia (especially after Dervla and Eugene’s history came out.  Not that I remember much about their history or why it should matter)- which was difficult as Mia also wanted a piece of Eugene (This is where the title came from). Finally I think the end of the story must have involved Mia and Cormag winding up together (Cormag doing his Mr Darcey act in the scenes that I got around to writing).

Jetty Holy Isle Arran

I think, at the time I wrote this, I had recently been on holiday in Arran.  So when I was writing this, I was specifically thinking about October in Arran.  So when you’re picturing the bright, sunny, ice-cream filled beach holiday that the beginning of this story creates, remember that I was picturing a grey, blustery, ice-falling-from-the-sky holiday that I had been on.

Also, this is an unfinished first draft, so the spelling is awful.  I fixed some formatting errors (which were due to the text editor I wrote this in), but there could well be some remaining.

 

Stuck In The Middle Without You

Chapter 1: The Best Summer Ever

Mum was just standing there. I knew what she was thinking, behind her eyes rolling ever so thoughtfully towards the heavens she was trying to find the perfect way of dashing my hopes of a memorable summer. Pleading with her wouldn’t be any good – once mum had made up her mind about sometyhing, that was it, settled, set in stone. And she had obviously decided my fate. There was know way on earth she was going to let me go. I’d heard it all a tousand times before ‘you’re too young, what if you go into trouble’ ‘I’ll be lying awake allnight wondering what you’re getting up to’ ‘If you think I’m letting you spend a week in the company of that Gordon girl, you’ve got another think comming’.

She’s probably right about that Gordon Girl, about Ronni. Mum never really liked Ronni, not since Ronni convinced Dervla and me to skip school and go clothes shopping at the mall. We would have probably got away with it if we wern’t ten years old and wearing our school uniforms.But even then Ronni always had this big thing about looking perfect, ‘keeping in touch with the changing directions of the tornado that is fashion’ she calls it now. But really its about looking good for guys, and, when you put it to her in those words she won’t deny it either (though if a guy said that too her, she would probably giggle then tap him playfully on the shoulder). Mum’s always saying that Ronni is going to find herself in big trouble one of these days, but ROnnie leads a charmed life, she can find her way through anything, and, when the problems do get too much for her, theres always a queue of men willing to give her a helping hand… often quite a lot more than a helping hand… but I digress

I think mum thinks of herself as the stern but fair matriarch, the sort of woman you respect because you knew everything she does, she does for some higher reason. In the movie of her life, Mom probably thinks she is played by Judy Dench or (some equivalent american), but when you see her from my perspective, you realise thats not the way things are at all. Think about the opening scenes in star wars, luke was all up for adventure but his uncle and aunt tried their hardest to avoid him getting in the slightest bit of trouble because they were worried. That is what Mum is like, too caught up in thinking of the worst that could happen to let me even slightly live my own life and make my own mistakes.

Now, granted, Uncle Owen knew Luke was Darth Vader’s son, not to mention a prince in waiting – and really, there isn’t much chance of it turning out that I’m a princess: that only happens in the sort of books Ronni reads, and, hello, they bear no relation to life at all: girls go through them completely unaware of their surroundings while boys throw themselves at their feet, and the girls, too caught up in their own problems, never seem to notice. I tell you, if a boy was throwing himself at my feet, I would notice… but then I would probably point him towards Ronnie, because it would have all be due to some sort of mistaken identity thing. No, I really don’t go in for Ronnie’s romances at all: I prefer films, after all, whats the point of reading about hot guys sweating in tight white shirts when you can see them ten times life size, every bicep bulging, looking straight at you as if they were reading your mind

‘well?’

Mum was saying something. I’d zoned out. Too much thinking about Keanu Reaves. Dervla says I need to stop building myself imaginary relationships and focus on building a realistic inner life that reflects who I am. Dervla doesn’t have much time for fiction at all, she reads books baout self improvement. Personally I think having Keanu Reaves on my arm would be a great improvement over the lack of men hanging off it at the moment or, well, ever in the past. But Dervla just tutted and rolled her eyes, a bit like Mum, when I told her that, so I never did tell her that my imaginary life was a lot better than the real life where my opresive mother kept me locked up in her comfort zone. Actually, come to think of it, Mom was probably played by one of those guards from prisoner cell block H (though she was a lot prettier – at least after she had the chance to put on some makeup).

‘I thought you’d be pleased, dearest’
‘About what?’ I asked. Mom was smiling at me. It unnerved me slightly. I had read in school that smiling isn’t about being nice to people at all, its actually just the human equivalent of dogs bearing their teeth. whn you smile at someone it doesn’t mean ‘I like you’ but more ‘back off buster, this is my territory’
‘Havn’t you been listening to a word I’ve been saying? Really Mina, you live in a world of your own sometimes. I’ve decided that you can go on this holiday if its really so important to you’
‘Pardon?’ Alien cloners must have replaced my mother with a stand in, or perhaps mum had just lost all understanding of the english language and was stringing together random words
‘Well, you’re sixteen now, and even if Ronni Gordon is going to be coming along with you, I’m sure Dervla will be able to keep the both of you in check’
I hearby take back every bad thing I’ve ever said about my mother. Which is pretty much every thing I’ve ever said about my mother – at least for the last decade or so. But you see, underneath everything, my mother really is quite well meaning, and I s’pose I have to like the way she wants to keep me wrapped up tightly in her arms. And she was there for me the time, after the school dance where I had plucked up the courage to ask Tom Spiers to dance, and his rejection had crushed me down to the size of an underdeveloped gnat in front of the whole year, offering my cups of tea and busicits and telling me that there were plenty of other men out there, not just spiteful little boys.

Though had I taken her up on that offer, she would have come down on me so fast…

I throw my arms around my others neck and plaster her face with kisses ‘Thankyou thankyou thankyou you wont regret it I’ll have a wonderful time and I wont do anything stupid or go near any boys or get in trouble or listen to Ronnie you’ll be so proud of me thankyou mummy I love you’

Mum just stands there, holding me tight to her chest, a tear welling in the corner of her eye. ‘Havn’t you got some people to tell?’ she asks. And by the time she has finished that sentence I have wrestled free from her grasp and am running out of the front door towards Ronnie’s house.

***

We always meet at Ronnie’s house, so there was no reason to be shocked when Dervla opened the front door. I was still buzzing with excitement from mum’s shock decision

‘I’m sensing something’ Dervla says, looking deep into my eyes

‘mom-says-I-can-go-with-you-to-your-summer-house-on-holiday’ I begin to babble. Ronnie has been attracted to the door by my high pitched screasms of joy and general jumpinaroundness. In fact have the neighbourhood have been attracted to their front doors by the same sound. As derver packs me off inside I’m sure I can hear Ronnie’s nextdoor neighbour, old Mr Watkins shouting something about hearing an air-raid siren going off.
And while Ronnie has joined me in my happy shakey jummping singing frenzy, Dervla remains her calm collected self

‘Listen Ronnie’, Dervla says, ‘I think Mina is trying to tell us something… yes she is… little Timmy is trapped in the well, no, wait, its not that at all, shes saying – yes shes saying Mina can come with us on the holiday’

And Dervla is smiling, so, given I’m in a good mood I let the lassie reference slip and rush though the hallway and up the stairs to Ronnie’s room.

You don’t know Ronnie as well as I do, so Ronnie’s room really needs to be explained. When Ronnie was younger her parents had decorated it in bright barbie pink. Now, Ronnie has grown up a little since then, and all mentions of the word Barbie have been removed, but the pink remains. Its all a little more tastefull now, there are spanglyt glittery frames with pictures of me and Dervla in them hanging from the walls, and her wardrobe and dressing table have taken on far greater significance but overall you are left soley with the impression that you have entered another world where the only colour that has been invented is pink. The weird thing is, it matches Ronnie so well that you don’t think to question it. Just like Ronnie can still get away with having her hair tied back in little pigtails – they make her look cute and niave (which Ronnie is, of course, anything but) but also give her an edge of danger. If I was to do that, I would just look like I had mistakenly taken leave of my senses and ased my Mum for hairdressing advice.

Dervla claps her hands together in order to get Ronnie and me to pay attention. Dervla isn’t the sort of girl who people in school notice (other than when she gets better marks than you in practically every subject) and she certainly isn’t the sort of girl who tries to be the centre of attention, but around Ronnie and me it’s Dervla who does the organising, pulling my head out from the clouds (which is a perfectly nice place for my head to be, mind you, it just doesn’t help when you’re orgnising important things like holidays, trips to the cinema or what clothes we are going to be wearing to the end of ter?m dance tomorrow.

‘Today’ Dervla begins ‘is a very important day. It seems that we three are going to be spending the best summer of our lives together at mum and Dad’s beach house’
‘Hear hear’ Ronnie choruses. She’s been doing that ever since Dervla made us sit down and watch the Budget on the parliment channel, on account of Dervla thinking we could do with some knowledge about current affiars. I tried to tell her I didn’t need any knowledge abotu current affairs, what I needed was a current affair of my own. But Dervla just said somethig about men being from mars and me neading to have a special place in my heart that would open up to them. I didn’t see how the Budget was going to help with that, but Dervla got all huffy and turened the volume up, so the discussion ended there.
Dervla continues ‘But first things first. We have a school dance coming up, and Ronnie suggested that she would give us ultimate man catching attire’

Ronnie eyes us up and down ‘so who is it you want to catch the attention of then chickitos?’ She winks at me conspiritorially ‘Not Tom Spiers still’
Well, thats just about it. I pick up a pillow and throw it straight at Ronni’s head. Unfortunately my pillow throwing is woefully undeveloped and it falls embassaingly short, just managing to knock the toe of Ronni’s shoe
‘Rage, good, we can use that’ Ronnie laughs. ‘And Dervla, since Gene isn’t going to be there…’

‘We can only hope’ I say, and Ronnie and I giggle. Gene is this boy who fell for Dervla last summer. Dervla had decided that she didn’t need a man to complete her, and certianly not Gene, so she let him down gently. What Devrvla didn’t realise was that this would send Gene psycho, he started writing her notes, and getting flowers delivered. The letters were quite sweet, I suppose in a ‘I’d quite like a stalker of my own’ kind of a way. We used to read them out over lunch, with Ronnie doing one of her dramatic over-the-top accents while Dervla tried to get the letter back from us.

‘Ow’ I complain, realising Ronnie has just elbowed me. Ronnie shoots a look towards Dervla. Dervla isn’t laughing. Thoughts are gooing through her brain. She gets a glased look when she is thinking deeply. Normally this means that Dervla has figured out the answer to some big problem we are having, like an imminent chemistry test that we havn’t revised for, but somtimes the corners of her mouth edge down and her skin pales from its normal red to a shade of white identical to the little statuettes Mu brought for our mantlepiece.

After a few seconds of silence Dervla notices that we’re both looking at her (did I mention that we’re not the most subtle… well, I’m quite subtle on my own, but frankly when Ronnie is around there isn’t much point)
‘He’s going to be there isn’t he?’

Ronnie slaps he head dramatically, and I slide over to where Dervla is sitting and put my hand on her shoulder.

‘He’ll be over you Dervla, its been a whole year’ Ronnie says.

‘Yeah’ I cut in ‘You don’t know that Gene will be hanging around the beach again this summer’

‘Anyway, he’s probably found someone else to stalk’

‘Well, gee, thanks Ronnie. Way to make a girl feel good about herself’

‘it’s not my fault if men have like a too second attention span before they forget what girl their meant to be dating. They get easily distracted’

‘Ronnie’ I say to her ‘we don’t all have two distractions jutting out from our chest like you do’

‘Well, then’ she replies, ‘you’ve come to the right place’ She swings open the wardrobe door and begins to rummage through her dresses ‘Lets see what we can do’

***

I had arrived at the school half an hour before the dance was due to begin. This wasn’t ut of any special school spirit, nor any desire to be away from the place for as little time as possible, but rather because Ronnie had agreed to meet me here and bring my outfit. Mum, bless her wonderful, can do no wrong in my eyes, heart would have had a fit if she had seen what Ronnie had decided I needed to wear if I was going to finally make the guys in my class (or even better, in the sixth form) sit up and take note. The t-shirt was two sizes too small, and the skirt was closer to being a belt

‘Are you absolutely sure?’ I ask, but I don’t wait for the answer. In my head, I’m the girl at the end of the teen comedy who has let her hair down and is finally going to get her man at the prom.

Why don’t we have proms? All we have are a few trays of peanuts and soft drinks in the cafeteria while someone’s big brother plays at being a DJ. Things would work so much better, it would give us something social to aim at as well as the academic element of school. And there could be a proper band and everything. And Jude Law could arrive, sweep me off my feet and carry me back to his mansion in LA. What? It could happen. If our schools had proms. The lack of proms is practically the only reason why I get nowhere near to having a love life. Someone really ought to write a letter to the education secretary. Perhaps Dervla, she’s into politics: she probably even knows who the education secretary is.

‘Are you done or what’ Ronnie and Dervla were waving their hands in front of my face. I straightened my hair and began to walk towards the school entrance

‘Hold your head up high’ Dervla whispers into my ear. ‘They say that if your body acts like you’re confident and sexy then it’ll trick your brain into acting that way too’

Anything is worth a shot. I point my chin into the sky and strighten my back. I grin a grimicing smile and try to forget about the quantity of flesh I’m putting on display. ‘I’m sexy, attractive and wonderful I whisper to myself over and over again’. I sneak down to glance at ROnnie every so often and wonder if she has to do the same. She seems to be strolling casually with a sping in her step, just like she always does. More fool her. She doesn’t have the secret of Dervla’s book smarts. As I climb up the school steps I notice several appreciative stares aimed right at me. ROnnie girl, the tables are turning. If only poor Ronnie were to be whispering confident self-affirming phrases to herself, but no shes blowing it buy wandering straight over to that group af boys and saying ‘hello’. Poor foolish Ronnie.

The problem with school dances is that you know everyone there. They’re either in your year (in which case you know them to well to ever consider finding them attractive and anyway, they’re all too obsessed with their playstation IIs to really know how to treat a woman – a woman who isn’t Lara Croft anyway), or they’re in the year above you (in which case they’re far too cool to be seen with the likes of me. No wait. I’m confident. They must be gagging for the chance to spend time with me. Why is it that whenever I follow Dervla’s advice and afirm the beautiful inner me, my internal dialogue always sounds so sarcastic?), or they’re in the year below you, which would be sort of like dating Ronni’s younger brother Toby – which is just to horrid to even be considered. Plus none of them wash. And they all have playstaions too. The only other people at school dances are boyfriends from elsewhere who have been snuck in, but theres this whole social taboo about getting off with someone else’s guy, even if the person is that bloody Mary Stewart who it would be so good to see taken down a peg or two, and is with a totally hot guy (and letting everyone know that she knows it) or are teachers.

I want to point out that I didn’t give a reason for not trying to pull a teacher because I thought it was mindblowingly obvious, not because it was what I was planning on doing. Credit me with some restraint. Except perhaps where Mr Holland is concerned… but seriously, that isn’t going to happen, so don’t go there. We can’t have a small quantity of fantasy lust of a teacher get in the way of the full blown fantasy lust I have for Ewan McGreggor, can we?

By now, as you might have guessed, I have been stending here, my chin in the air, smiling, while all around me people are milling about and the DJ is desperately trying to urge people onto the dance floor. I suspect soon he’ll resort to ‘Last Train to Clarksville’ but untill then, its boy shopping time. Or it would be, but Ronnie hasn’t returned yet, and Dervla is talking to some of her friends from the computer club. And while the boys from the computer club are occasionally managing to snake glances at my ever so hot thanks to Ronnie bod, I seriously doubt they would be able to manage to say a whole sentence to me without choking on their own tounge or something. Hey, Dervla was right, this confidence thing really does work. And on top of the world, absolutely certain of myself I walk out onto the dance floor, find the closest bloke who’s even vaguely reasonable and walk over to him.

‘Hiya’ I smile at Luke Bradshaw, who scubs up a lot better out of uniform than he does in school
‘Hmm’ he mumbles and looks at his feet
‘Do you want to dance?’
His face reddens, bless him. I grab his hand and lead him out onto the floor. I’m sure somewhere behind me Dervla has noticed new confident Mina and is sending vibes of encouragement my way. A Britney Spears song starts playing and I begin to boogie on down. Normally only teachers and middle aged parents at parties who have had one too many boogie – most people dance, mosh or sway, but rhythm isn’t quite my thing. Normally I’m to embarassed and hang around by the snack table (leading to serious problems with my incredible inflating thighs), but today confident Mina is in charge, and I strut my stuff like I’m forty two and have been knocking back the sherry for hours. It’s onyl after baout a minute of serious stuff strutting that I notice Luke has walked back to where he was. I shoot him a look, but he is far more interested in his shoes.

Seriously, the nerver of that boy, turning down something like me. Whats his problem, anyway? I stride over to demand an explanation (and also to grab a sneaky glance at his arse, which the tight levis he is wearing are really showing off well)

‘Where’d you go?’ I ask, giving him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he thought the song had finished
‘I errm. Here.’ eye contact boy! How are you ever meant to ask me out if you don’t make eye contact? Not that I actually want to go out with you, you’re just first dance material (though the arse is seriously growing on me… and wow, those shoes are nice, no wonder you keep looking at them)
I put my finger under his chin and raise his face so that he looks at me. I didn’t know boys could go quite the colour of beetroot, but Luke was doing a fairly stirling impersonation. He’s so sweet. You know if he did ask, I think I would go out with him. I could take him to a romantic comedy, and begin to teach him how to act… we could progress through to action heros and by the end I’d have my own little Bruce Willis, only younger. Actually, Bruce Willis is pushing it a bit, with some eye liner he could make a fair Jonny Depp. Then I look a bit more closely. Luke already has eyeliner.
‘It’s not that I don’t like you Mina’ he says, ‘its just that I’m, well,’ he rubs one of his shoes (armani if I’m not mistaken, this boy has class, but I’m beginning to guess why. I’m nothing if not perceptive) against the back of his other leg and scratches his forehead ‘I’m not so much into girls as boys’

The music stops. Everyone in the room turns round. My face has turned a vivid scarlet, and then everyone begins to laugh and in my mind I shrink down into a tiny little person, that all the rest of the school, giants, around me are looking at, pointing and geering. It’s horrible. Truely horrible. I turn and run, all the time telling myself ‘nobody heard that but you, and lots of women go out dancing with gay male friends’ but sounding totally unconvincing. I keep running until I get to the clockroom, where, beneath the coat hooks, in a corner cordened off by lockers I’m able to sit on my own and think about what an idiot of myself I’d just made. How could I have not noticed the Luke was gay? shurely there would have been a crowd of girls fawning over him if he was available. Stupid stupid stupid! I knock my head repeatedly against a coat rack, but the physical pain does nothing to calm my emotional torment.

‘I don’t think those are meant to stand up to that sort of violence’ Dervla is standing over me, quite concerned about the dent my forehead is making in the metal, by all accounts.
‘I’m going home’ I tell her, which is patently untrue: I don’t have the faintest idea of where Ronni is, and she’s got my clothes.
‘What happened? We just saw you run out’
‘I made a fool of myself. There’s no way any boy could ever fancy me’
‘Well, not luke. He’s gay you know’ Dervla says, conversationally
‘Arrgghhhhhhhhh!’ I scream in response. ‘Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!’
‘Do you know just how many brain cells you lose each time you do that?’
‘I havn’t got any brain cells. I didn’t even notice Luke was…’
‘Ohhhh. That explains the running and the headbutting’ Dervla runs her fingers through my hair. She’s been told that physical contact helps bond friends together, and I appreciate the effort, even if she is undooing all the work ronni put into it. We begin to laugh about things a little. Just a little mind. Trying to figure out who it is Luke actually has his eye on.
‘Probably Mr Holland’ Dervla says. I then proceed to explain how she couldn’t possibly be any more wrong, because Mr Holland has a really hot motorbike, and its a well known fact that Motorbikes are a sure sign of hetrosexuality.
‘Wasn’t there a motorcycle cop in the Village people?’
‘He was just lying to himself. He probaboly wanted his gran to feel better about him’
‘We probably ought to go back in to the cafe’ Dervla suggested ‘The only people out here are making out, and given your recent brushes with confused sexuality the rumours that could start about us would do nothing to help you get a man’
‘Dervla?’ I looked at her pointedly ‘with all those books you read, have you learned nothing about the male mind. Marsians want to see nothin more than some hot venusian on venusian action’
‘Speaking of which, I wonder who taht is over there’ Dervla pointed some coats which were arranged as if to hide the people behind them very poorly. The coats were moving back and forth and the occasional arm was thrust up above where they were hanging.
‘I think thats just you’re everyday marsian/venusian action’
‘Lets find out who it is though. A little juicy gossip never hurt anyone’

Dervla and I walk close to the coats, but neither of us can quite bring ourselves to pull them aisde an see who lurks behind. So we wait until the amore dies down a little, which takes an excessively long time if you ask me, they’re just showing off. COuldn’t romance be spred around a little more equitably – on a timeshare basis or something? Eventually the coats are pushed aside, and I’m a little shocked to notice the man who I like to think of as Mr Jerkface McJerk Tom Spiers emerging. He spots us and looks a little embarassed as he shuffles past, but not to embarassed to look back at me and shoot me a ‘bet you wish it was you’ grin. Which I don’t. At all. In his dreams. But he certainly has that whole self image thing going for him.
We continue to wait to see who comes next.

‘I bet its that bitch Mary Stewart’ Dervla says in hushed tones
‘No, she was here with that hot mechanic boyfriend of hers’ I reply
‘Who has Spiers been getting Jiggy with then’
‘She’s coming, so we’ll find out. And while we’re at it, I seriously advise you to never use the phrase ‘getting jiggy with it’ in public.’
‘Whos getting Jiggy with who?’ Ronni askes, stepping out from behind the coats.

I set about explaining that we didn’t know who was getting jiggy but that ronnie must have seen who was behind tose coats when it occured to me what she was doing there.

‘what were you doing back there’ I ask, proving that sometimes I do exhibit some degree of subtlety

‘Well, I was just having a little fun with Tom Spi… Oh… Mina… I really thought you were over all of that’

‘I am’ I say. But my eyes are watering, which probably makes Ronni suspicious even though I am indeed totally over Jerkface.

‘I didn’t mean…’ and now Ronni is about to start crying. I look to Dervla for support, but she has gone silent, and entered one of her ‘thinking about things’ faces. Which means there is a good chance she’ll start crying soon

‘don’t worry about it, Ronni’ I splutter

‘but I should have realised. I shouldn’t have even gone near him’

‘Jerkface’

‘Yes I am a jerkface’

‘No he’s a Jerkface, Ronni, you’re my friend’

‘I’m not a good friend. Its okay, I won’t see him again.’

‘Well duh!’

Dervla clapped her hands together, and Ronni and I turned to see what she was about to say.

‘It think’ Dervla says slowly and thoughtfully ‘that we need to have an extraordinary meeting. We have already established that this summer is going to be the best summer ever’

‘Hear hear’ Ronni say, but her heart isn’t in it

‘but recent events seem to indicate we’re going to need some ground rules. I’ll suggest the first one:’

I nod and Ronni opens her eyes a little wider.

‘Rule number 1′ Dervla says, ‘for the duration of the best holiday ever, there will be no boys. This holiday is about us, and boys only get in the way’

‘I’d pay for boys to get in my way’ I say

Ronni is speachless. Its like this whole concept of boylessness is entirely alien. We wait for her to speak, but she just sits there in silence. Eventually I nudge her and say

‘Ronni?’

‘No boys?’ she asks ‘Hows that going to happen?’

I laugh. No boys happens to me without any effort whatsoever.

‘I suppose I can manage that.’ she conceds ‘and it’ll give you a good excuse if Gene comes calling’

‘I don’t need an excuse. I’m secure in my freakedoutishness’ Dervla replies. ‘now, does anyone have any suggestions for rule number two’

I look down at my legs and inspiration strikes

‘No fatty foods. We are going to spend the entire summer being healthy and wholesome’

‘Wholesome?’ Ronni moans. Ronni has been known to eat whole chocolate cakes and not put on a pound. This adds weight to me belief that she probably is evil, like my mum suspects. Nevertheless, if the embodyment of evil is hanging around at your school, its probably a good idea to be one of her best friends.

‘I’m secure in my self-image’ Dervla says – she too is infeasibly skinny – ‘but it can’t hurt. I have a book called eat right for your type, which tells you what foods to eat depending on your blood group’

‘Just no fatty foods’ I tell her. I’m tempted to add that chocolate is a vegetable, and thus acceptable, but a moment of wholesomeness, or conscionce, or one of those irritating things (like a mother in your head) stops me.

‘We have two rules. One is mine, one is Mina’s’ Dervla says ‘Ronni, do you want to suggest a third rule’

Ronni doesn’t: she never was a rule folloing kind of girl, but after some taunting, and then a few threats of physical violence and introducing rules banning the colour pink she aquieses

‘How about: rule number 3 – we don’t lie, at least not to one another. We have no secrets, we keep everythign in the open. That way incidents like tonight can’t possibly happen’

I smile ‘I think we have all our based covered.’

Dervla nods sagely ‘If we keep to these rules nothing can possibly go wrong’

‘This is going to be ‘ I say and everybody else joins in ‘the best summer ever’

I don’t know about you, but if I was to hear that at the beginning of a film, I would expect the film to be a complete disaster where through either obeying or breaking one of the rules after another everythign goes hideously wrong. I don’t want to say thatsa what happens, but… well… I credit you with enough intelligence to make a good guess, after all, you bought this book didn’t you? Dramatic irony can be a real bitch when it bites you on the arse.

Chapter 2: Boys

Dervla’s beach house is perfect. Dervla’s parents must have way too much money if they can aford to live in their house and own this too, but all the time I’m benefiting from their oodles of excess cash, I’m really not one to complain. The house is white and quite small, with a sitting room, kitchen and extension containg a bathroom on the ground floor, and three bedrooms (each equpped with a double bed on the second floor, which is built into the roof, giving all the rooms loping ceilings on which you regulalry bump your head. The long front garden leads down diretly onto the beach, though beach is a bit of a generous term, since it consists entirely of pebbles, and doesn’t have a single person lying on it. In the morning sun shines through the flimsly cotton curtains, acting with more vigour than any alarmclock (though the sound of Ronni coaxing the antiquated water heating system into life for her morning fifty minutes in the bathroom also helps get you out of bed)

Nevertheless, the house is perfect, mainly because it is indisputably, entirely ours for the next three weeks. A place that will be dedicated to giggling laughter, earnest discussion, heated debate and absolutely no boys, secrets or fatty foods. As I look out of my bedroom window and gaze at the sea, I think to myself how wonderful and free I feel, the first morning I’ve ever been truely my own person. And about time too. I’ve been doing the whole devoted daughter thing for sixteen years, it was about time I got a bit of a break.

I wait contentedly for Dervla to finsih in the bathroom (seriously, what is there to do in a bathroom that takes fifty minutes? I swear that girl must have invented whole new forms of beauty treatments to fill in the time. Or perhaps she uses the runnign water to record secret messages into a dictaphone safe in ther knowledge that with all the running water no bugs will be able to pick up her conversation. Its unlikely, I know, but by occams razor I think we can count out the possibility that it might take fifty minutes to shower, so it is the only possible explanation. Oh god, I’m living with a spy.)

Ronni finally exits the bathroom while Dervla and I are sitting drinking tea. We glare at her, she beams at us, and its hard to feel angry at someone with eyes as big and as round as her. Its like kicking a puppy because it wants to wag its tail (not that I object to kicking puppies, per se, since I have been a cat person ever since the unfortnate incident when a dog mistook by behind for its lunch. It’s not even that my behind looks like a bone – quite the opposite in fact, unfortunatly. I mention this to the girls, and ROnnie suggests that there are times when I look like a dogs dinner. I suggest that she might want to avoid saying things liek that if she wants to wake up tomorrow morning, but it is her considered opinion that the sun coming through her bedroom window would wake her from the dead, so there isn’t realy a problem. If Ronni had studied matters further she would realise that the recently deceased only come back to life during the night… Here I am a mine of knowledge about horror movies and the boys still want to go to them with Ronni, I really don’t understand the world)

While I wasn’t looking, Dervla got into the bathroom. I really must learn to pay more attention to my surroundings.

Eventually I manage to get a minute of time in the bathroom, and pull myself together into something that looks less like a dogs dinner and more like a huamn being. I realise, however, that if I am living with a spy, part of her mission is clearly to avoid Dervla and I getting any of the hot water. We are seriously going to have to have words with Ronni.

I sit on the sofa in the loungs, and sink down, envelopped in it. Old though the furnature is, it is certainly comfortable. Dervla and Ronni are opposite me. I clap my hands, Dervla looks up but Ronni continues talking about the time she broke into Mrs Kenedy’s car so she could place her book there and claim Mrs Kenedy had forgotten to mark it, rather than that she had forgotten to hand it in. I clap them again to no avail. Dervla claps and Ronni stops. I swear that girl must have mystic powers.

‘We said no secrets’ I say

Dervla nods and Ronni says ‘No hiding anything at all’

‘I had a problem this morning, Ronni, you were in the bathroom for hours and you used up all the hot water’

Ronni rolls her eyes ‘You sound so much like my mother’

‘I was just saying, thats all. If we’re going to live together, there are things we’ve got to get straight’

‘like my hair, in the morning’

Well, at least I knew what it was she was doing now.

‘can you at least make an effort to be quick, or keep some water for us?’ Dervla asks, ever the peacemaker

‘I suppose so. Its not like there’s anything to make myself look wonderous for, not with the no boys rule’

I splutter into my cup of tea ‘You’ve only been here forteen hours. How many boys have you seen?’

‘well, there was one who looked me over when we got off the ferry, and the guy in the supermarket was kind of cute and, don’t you just love the accents?’

‘so, we’ve established that you’re going to be tormented for the whole of the holiday. Me, I plan on finding something to do. Anyone have any ideas?’

‘I was just going to read this morning’ Dervla says, holdign up her copy of ‘Emotional Intelligence’

‘if I go out, you’ll just shout at me for looking at the boys. or thinking about boys. or thinking about lookig at boys’

There was no point in arguing, Ronni was getting in one of her moods. Ronni’s moods were nothing to worry about, she always got over them in a few hours (though I have to admit, we hadn’t tested if she would get over it when enduring a forced abstinence of men). While ronni was seeing red (or more likely pink, in her case) there was no way of arguing or reasoning with her. Even Dervla had learned to let her be and stop making useful suggestions when Ronni started being negative. The funny thing was, asking around, Ronni only ever did it in front of us, and in front of her Mum. Everyone else in the world thought Ronni was the same highly charge bundle of energy all the time. We knew better, bt that didn’t help us. And being in a tiny house with her wasn’t going to help me

‘I think I’m going to go out for a walk. Anyone want to join me?’

Ronni gives her response bu studying the carpet, paying extra special attention to the bits where me feet arn’t, and Dervla murmers a quiet ‘no’ from behind her book, and turns to the next page, so I put on my jacket and shoes and walk down to the beach.

***

At least when I’m on my own on a beach I can clamber over the rocks and make my way to those places that other people who stay on the coast paths never get to see. I can look in caves and jump over rockpools without people lookang at me and thinking how childish I am. I’ve never quite got over the whole beach holiday thing. It isn’t really something Ronni would understand, she would be too worried that the heal of her new shoes would break (Ronni would never consider wearing the correct type of footware, afterall, there might be potential dates in the long deserted caves… in fact, if you left Ronni in a deserted cave, I’d lay money she would come out with a date anyway. Men are pretty much spontaniously create around her)
Dervla, on the other hand would either prefer to be sitting on a beach reading, or cycling around the island looking at sights. I’ve never seen the point in sights, surely once you’ve seen one hill, you’ve seen them all?

I spot an outcropping of rock in the distance and decide that the best course of action would be to just see what was on the other side of it, then, if it wasn’t interesting, turn back so I could join the girls for lunch. Non fatty lunch, that is. So I set off towards it. Is is only when I come up to it that I notice not only is this outcropping bigger than I thought, it is also going to be quite tricky to reach the top. Hovever, Mina Bennett is not a girl to give up on her dreams (which is why I have so many of them. Mostly about movie stars wearing very little in the way of clothing) so I press onwards and upwards. though I make little progress in either direction. It turns out that Chris Bonnington will have little to fear from me usurping his crown. I am about to give up, when it all begins. At first all that happens is I hear voices above me. This is most upsetting. When you make it your aim to conquore uncharted teritory, the one thing you don’t want is for other people to be there. Other people make the whole being on your own thing really hard, unless they are exceptinally well behaved. And since the voices I could hear were male, the chances of that were fairly low. But what they were saying struck me as interesting

‘You’ve got to get over it, you’re imagining things’ the first was saying

‘I told you I’m not. And anyway, I’m totally over it.’

‘But they’re not comming, you know that, you read the letter yourself. Cool it man, you’re not going to be the victim of a psychopathic axe murderer or anything’

Unfortunately, thier discussion was taking much of my attention. Whatever it was that boy b was claiming to be totally over, he wasn’t. He was protesting too much. Unlike me, because I actually am totally over Tom Spiers and don’t protest about it at all. In any event, I was considering going up to them and explaining this (though the propsect of psychopathic axe murders deterred me a little), but the stones where I my foot gave way and I slipped. Which on its own wasn’t too bad. It was just my other foot caught in a hollow in the rock, causing me to do the splits. Somthing years of school gymnastics lessons never got me to achieve. Luckily I can live through any amount of pain, even agonising, school gym lesson quality pain like this. What I can’i quite cope with is when the back my head hits hard against a rock surface and I black out for a couple of minutes.

Chapter 3 : Fatty Foods

‘Do you think she’s goint to be all right?’

‘Chill G-Man, it was just a little knock. Look she’s coming round already’

‘Shouldn’t she go to hospital or something, get her head examinined?’

‘I’ll check. Hey lady’

I assume the tall one is talking to me. Lieing on my back I can only really make out two people, one tall and with wavey blonde hair hanging down onto his shoulders, and the other shorter, but with the cutest nose you’ve ever seen and eyes to die for. Not that death was on my mind. I was far more interested in remaining alive. Remaining alive and not hurnting

‘She’s not answering. I’ll go and call for an ambulance’

‘No no’ I say ‘I’m fine. Sort of. Ow.’

It hurts to talk, I think I must have the mother of all bruises on my upper jaw. The sort of bruise that makes all the other bruises stay at home, and phone if they’re going to be out after eight. I think I might be delerious.

‘hey lady’ the tall one says to me. ‘d’you think G-Man here is good looking’

Well, he is. Did I mention the eyes. And also the way his shirt wraps around his chest. But mainly the deep blue eyes with these little flecks of green than I can make ouw when he bends down close to me. The sort of eyes you just want to drink up, or perhaps lick… But these are stange men, and anyway, boys are strictly off limits.

‘No’

‘see, dude, she’s fine. No brain damage or anything.’ the tall one turns back to me, and I begin to sit up ‘lady, how many fingers am I holding up?’

‘three?’

‘You’re going to be fine’

He offers me a hand and helps me to my feet. Then the short, dreamy, one hands me back one of my shoes which must have come loose during my fall. Its like cindarella, only I don’t think cinderella wore rebocks or had a purple jaw.

‘Hi’ he says to me, once I’ve taken the shoe ‘I’m Gee and this here is Todd’

Todd raises his hand to greet me and I smile back.

‘I’m Mina’ I say ‘and I supose I must have looked like a total idiot back there’

‘Well, you got zero points for rock climbing, but 10 out of 10 for artistic interpretation’ Gee laughs ‘and we all amke fools of ourselves from time to time. Don’t sweat it. Is there anything else we can do to help – Todd could carry you back to wherever you’re staying’

I’m tempted, but that would be such a big violation of the rules that I put it out of my head striaght away

‘I could do with something to drink’ I suggest

Gee looks over to Todd, then back at me

‘We were going to go get some ice cream, would you like to join us’

‘Yes’ I say decicively. This isn’t a date at all, oh no, this is medicinal. Doing anything else in my condition would be practically suicidal.

Rather than attempting to climb over the rocky outcrop, we walk to the other side along the coast road, which given the pain running through every inch of my body, is the preferable option.

‘Nice Ice is a cool place’ Todd tells me. Gee winces in pain at the pun but Todd seems oblivious ‘What G-Man? Tell me dude. Oh forget it. Its a seriously cool place, Mina. Most of the tourists never find it, which means its actually somewhere we can hang without loads of people talking about how gorgeous everything is. No offecne meant, of course’

‘None taken. So you come from round here then?’

‘Born and bred, us two.’

Gee opens the door for me and I walk in. Nice ice is quite an experience. The impression is of an american diner, only rather than wood and chrome, Nice Ice has plastics in the pastal shades of ice cream. Loud rock music was playing through speakers which distorted it, making it sould like it was coming from an ice cream van. i’m not surel if the effect is intentional, or just down to really cheap technology. And, as Todd promised, the place is empty except for the guy behind the counter, a studly sort, perhaps eighteen dressed in a leather jacket with heair creamed back. his features were tough and rugged, but his face bore the scar of cynicism. He looked up from his and grimaced after taking in Gee and Todd’s faces.

‘you two are back then? why can’t you leave me to read my paper?’

‘Thats no way to treat paying customers. Anyhow, we’ve brought a friend’

His eyes peer straigt at me. I look back at him. I feel a spark of electricity as our eyes meet. Unfortunately the spark is rather painful static electricity coming from the metal edges of the table. I jump in shock and he laughs

‘so, whats her name. oh, and you should warn her to look out for the statical electricity, it builds up in where, what with all the plastics’

‘thanks’ I mutter

‘Her name?’ Todd says ‘Dude, she told us didn’t she?’

‘This’ G points to me ‘ is Mina. She fell for me the moment we met’

‘The moment before we met’ I correct Gee, rubbing my face

The guy behind the counter puts on a dramatic wince as he hears my voice ‘you two always coming in here hassling me for ice cream is bad enough. But no, you had to do better, you bought a tourist. She’ll be off home telling people about this place and before we know it it’ll be a neverending stream of people. I won’t have time to do anything. So, did you come here just o make my life that little bit less bareable, or were you planning on buying some ice cream’

‘This is where you come for ice-cream?’ I say to Gee

‘No, this is where we come for personal abuse and humiliation. The ice cream is an added bonus though’

‘The ice cream is, like, fantabulous’ Todd concurs. ‘Give us 3 full fat double chocs’

I know, I know, the fatty food rule was my idea, and by breaking it I suspose I am being a bit disloyal, but you have to consider that I had just fallen off a high rock and hit my head. If I didn’t get sugar, fat and 70% cocao solid choclate into my system immediately I might start halucinating like that guy in ‘The Singing Detective’, and then Gee would probably start undressing as he gave me an extra sensual sponge bath, and that sort of thing was far less allowed than fatty food. And also Ice cream isn’t real fat, its practically a vegetable: what I meant was no sausages or bacon.

Gee handed some money to the ice cream guy and was rewarded with three tall classes of frozen chocolate heaven. I reached for a spoon, but Gee stopped me.

‘Mina, you really havn’t told us anything about who you are, what you were doing, why you were so deperate to join us on top of that rock. In return for the ice cream, I want details.’

‘In return for that spoon, I’ll tell you anything you want. Gimmee’ I snatch the spoon, my hand brushing against his as I clasp it. His skin is surpisingly smooth and warm. But in life there are men, and there is ice cream. Somewhere on the internet, I’m sure you can find a list of reasons why ice cream is better than a man. So I dig in, speaking inbetween mouthfulls I begin telling him about the fact I came here on holiday with my two oldest and closest friends. Good god this ice cream is good, it’s like there’s a party in my mouth and all the guests are made of the best chocolate ice cream in the world. I tell Gee about the rules. I tell Gee about the argument I had this morning. I tell Gee about how I like walking along the beach.

‘Arn’t you totally breaking all the rules as we speak’ Todd asks
I look at Gee and smile ‘its worth it’

When its time to leave, Gee asks if they’ll see me again.

‘Sure’, I say, ‘how about we meet here tomorrow afternoon’

‘D’you want to bring your friends along?’ asks Todd

‘And let them know about my contempt for the rules. Nah, you’re going to have to stay my secret for the time being’

Chapter 4 : Secrets

As I approach the front door of our holiday home, I’m singing and dancing, giddy with happiness. I didn’t ever think I would have cause to say the word giddy, but it sums up exactly how I feel. I’ve made new friends. New, hot, friends. And discovered possibly the best ice cream on the planet (I hear they have good ice cream in italy, but what are the odds of an italian man being as good looking as the guy in Nice Ice? Possibly quite high. Perhaps I ought to stage an expedition to italy. I wonder if they have rocks I can fall off in order to attract men. Maybe thats how Ronni does it, whenever my back is turned she probably stumbles on her high heals, knocks herself out and gets a man to revive her.)

‘You’re looking happy’ Ronnie beams. See, her mood gone, the argument forgotten about. What did I tell you. This is one of the things I love about Ronni, it really is hard to make her mad with you for any length of time. She lives in happy Ronni world where everyone is nice.

‘The sea breaze does wonders’ I say, wondering if she has noticed the bruise on my face

‘We saved you some lunch, Mina’ Dervla calls out from the kitchen where she is washing up ‘chicken salad: all very healthy, no skin or anything’

I blush. Do they know. How could they possibly know? Did they follow me? If htye did, why didn’t they help me when I fell off the rock? No, they’re just being nice.

‘I’m kind of full’ I reply ‘I got some, err, ‘ I pause. What sort of health food do they sell near beaches? Everything is full fat. Ronni is looking straight at me waiting for me to finish my sentence, she must have noticed that I’ve completely stopped talking by now. I can feel my face redded

‘sandwiches?’ Ronni asks ‘from the shop?’

‘Yes. sandwiches. Healthy sandwiches’

‘I’m surprised I didn’t see you there – I popped in a while back to get the chicken’ Dervla walks over to where we are standing

‘Well it is quite a big shop’ I say. Dervla looks puzzled. Perhaps it isn’t a big shop, not having been there I don’t know. ‘ a big shop for a village like this one, anyway’

Dervla still looks a bt puzzled, but she nods her head and lets the subject drop. I notice that I havn’t actually taken a breath for about the last four minutes, and breath out heavily. A bead of sweat runs down my forehead and I wipe it away. Most unladylike, but I think I got away with it.

I head upstairs in an attempt to escape any further inquisition.

***

The next day is as bright and breezy as yesterday. And I too am also bright and breezy. No bruise has developed on my face after all, the sun is shining and I have a date. Which is to say I don’t have a date, obviously, I have an appointment to meet with two friends who are concerned about my health after my accident yesterday. It just so happens they are male, but the mature manner in which they handled the crisis makes them anything but boys, so in many ways this isn’t so much a rule of ours that I am breaking, as a diplomatic mission.

Plus, they are boys who want me to spend time with them which must be a world first or something.

Unless this is all some big set up, like the thing with Tom Spiers. They probably saw a clumsy girl fall from the rocks and thought ‘How about we humiliate her further’. Or perhaps they’re gay. Ohmigod. They are so gay. They’ve were on an isolate rock together. They probably just want me to be a friend to go shopping with, and perhaps wath the occasional episode of Will and Grace. How welse would they know where to find really good ice cream? They probably cook in their spare time (when they arn’t designign clothes and being camp). It so disheartening to realise either of them would have a better chance of pulling Luke Bradshaw than me.

Did I say the day was bright and breezy, actually, its unseasonably mild, and I think there might be a depression coming in fromt he south.

But a deal is a deal. I agreed to meet them, and so I shall. After all, it is possible that two hot boys might want to spend their afternoon in my company. Don’t laugh. It is possible. Just highly unlikely.

I am joined, just as my face has fully finished shifting from smile to frown, by Ronni and Dervla who are talking animatedly about some waterfall Dervla has heard about. Apparently, there is water. Which falls. This is meant to be a big deal, despite the fact I’ve seen the niagra falls on TV, which is both bigger and has the added bonus of men in barrels (or at least it should have. if I find I’ve been lied to about this, I’ll be most dissapointed)

Dervla claps her hands together, and we turn towards her

‘I propose today that we go out to find the waterfall’

‘Er…’ I say ‘why’

‘why not?’ Dervla answers. And by answers, I don’t mean she actually gives me an answer, or a reason, or even a rationalisation as to why waterfalls might hold the slightest bit of appeal to a growing girl who has a secret date with two hot (if almost certainly gay) guys. There are days I would sware she is my mother in disguise.

‘I think I’m going to be sick this afternoon’ I say, looking embarassedly towards the bathroom. You might think this is a somewhat weak excuse, but it has freed me from the tyranny of about fifty percent of my gym lessons, so its worth a shot.

‘If you don’t want to go, just say.’ Dervla says. Great, now I’ve annoyed her. All I wanted to do was deceive her. Why does this girl have to be so emotional. Doesn;t she have books to stop that sort of thing?

‘Won’t you be bored on your own?’ Ronni asks.

‘I’ll manage. I’ve been wanting to read this anyway’ I pick a book fromt he coffee table at random ‘Feel the fear and do it anyway?’

Dervla brightens ‘Oh yes, you should read that. Susan Jeffers is a marvel. It has so much good advice’

Again, we have rules against lieing, I’m aware of that. But I do fully intend to read the book some day. Perhaps even today. I’ll take it with me to the ice cream parlour, and, if I get bored discussing the music of Elton John and… you know, I really know absolutely nothing about gay culture. Perhaps Todd and Gee will enlighten me. Shirley bassey! Elton John, Julie Andrews and Shirley Bassey. I’m a cultural chameleon, much like Leonado DeCaprio.

Once Dervla and Ronnie finally leave to find the waterfall, I begin the process of prettying myself up. Not, I repeat not because I intend to pull Gee. No. It is because I know gay men can be harsh critics of style. I’ve seen documentaries (or perhaps lifestlye programmes. I forget. I was only watching them under duress from Ronni) And, once lunchtime has passed (i eat the remainder of the chicken salad, which proves I am not ungreatful, nor entirely reliant on fatty food for my nutirition) I return to Nice Ice.

It is always nice to be greated by a smiling face. Unfortunately, since the only person in the parlour as I enter is the guy behind the counter, that is not to be. I’m not even sure he hears me enter, but as I cough loundly to attract his attention, he looks up.

‘Oh. Its the tourist. Come here for more of our world famous ice cream. Or do you just hate me’

‘Actually’ I say ‘I just wanted some more of this scintillating conversation’

He almost smiles. But I assume he remembers himself and returns quickly to his bored glare

‘Have you seen…’ I begin. he does his best to look hurt

‘so you didn’t want me at all. You were looking for Todd and Gee? I’m heartbroken’

‘Have you seen them?’

‘This morning, yeah’

‘And? Did they say they were coming back?’

‘I don;t know whether I should say’

My heart drops. It literally shatters and falls to pieces on the linolium floor. And by literally, I mean figuratively. My eyelids begin to droop and I can feel tears welling forth

‘Oh don’t cry. Look, they’re just not the most reliable sorts. I’m sure they didn’t do it on purpose. Its just they were in here, and there were a couple of girls with them.’

‘I don;t suppose, by any chance, Todd and Gee are gay?’

‘you, Mina, are seriously messed up’

‘Oh. So you remembered my name?’

‘Its etched on my list of things which make every second of my life more painful’

‘You never told me your name, you know’

He points to a badge on his chest. I read it out

‘Cormag? Thats a name?’

‘It means son of defilement’

‘I’m not sure you should tell people that, Cormag’

‘Or possibly son of the charioteer’

‘What charioteers do in their spare time is their own business. Now, since I’m going to be incredibly dissapointed, I’ll be needing you to give me the biggest ice cream this parlour sells’

‘Comming right up’

Chapter 5 :

I ate an awful ot of ice cream this afternoon. Cormag was awfully nice about it in a surely, sarcastic sort of a way, and gave me quite a lot for free. On the condition that I don’t tell anyone and ruin his reputation. I told him he was a sweetie and he scowled at me. As I left he shouted ‘And don;t come back’ which has a whole different sort of a ring to it than ‘have a nice day’ Refreshingly honest in a way. I walk up to the front door of the house and am seriously beginning to wish I hadn’t had quite as much to eat, on account of the stomach pains. Perhaps Cormag is a forward thinker and plans his torture methods well.

Ronni and Dervla return a few hours later. The door bursts open and they are practically screaming in shrill high pitched voices. Laughing, joking and hitting one another playfully. Ronni sees me and her face drops. Seconds later Dervla too is deadpan. What have I done to upset them? Well, apart from the whole betraying them for boys who didn’t exist thing. They don’t know about that. Or do they? How could they have possibly found out? They exchange a brief glance with one another, then join me sitting in the lounge

‘how was the water fall?’ I ask

‘Oh. It was water. It fell’ Dervla says tersely.

‘Yeah. Falling water.’ Ronni replies. Now I know Ronni is mad at me. She can rave about practivcally anything. There is only one possibility. They must have seen me today, going into Nice Ice. Breaking the fatty food rule. I quickly try to think of a way to explain my actions, but ultimately there is no way to explain why I was there. It isn’t even as if frozen yoghurt has reached backwoods places like this yet. High fat ice cream is al that was on offer.

‘What did you do with youself’ Dervla asks, each word tripping over the other to get out of her mouth as quickly as possible.

‘Oh, nothing much’ I say, hoping htey won’t press me any further ‘just sat around not doing much. What do you want to do tommorow?’

Please note the speedy change of subject. I like to consider myself something of a master in such matters. But I find that the subject isn’t so much changed as killed. Ronni and Dervla just sit in cold stoney silence, not saying anything. Best holiday ever? I’ve lost both my friends, been stood up and put on about a thousand pounds through eating comfort ice cream. I ponder my feet, avoiding eye contact for what feels like hours and eventually take refuge away in my room.

This, it seems, is what Ronni and Dervla have been waiting for, as, the moment they hear my bedroom door shut, and are convinced I am safely outside of listening range, they begin to talk. THough Ronni and Dervla don’t recon with the aging piping system which transfers the words of their conversation to my room with crystal clarity.

‘we should just tell her’ Dervla says

‘No. We made the rules. Breaking them is serious. Things like this can ruin a friendship.’

‘but honesty is the best poilicy. We should bring things out into the open’

I can just imagine Ronni shaking her head in disbelief. We are all old enough to know how much I’ve betrayed us, put it behind us and work towards a new trust, built on the firm grounds of undhakeable friendship. Discussing it would only open wounds, give us a chance for reciminations. It could be fatal. Moreover it could involve me having to ‘fess up.

‘Dervla’, Ronni says and I wait for her repost (which is likely to be ‘why don’t we forget our troubles by baking a nice plate of cookies’, but will get the drift across) ‘I suppose you’re right’

No Ronni. Bad Ronni. Go with the cookie plan Ronni. DOn’t go with the humiliating mina plan. Thats a bad plan. There are footsteps on the stairs. You sometimes hear them in horror films and you begin to sweat because you know the monster is getting closer with each creak of a floorboard or thud of a shoe. And as the footsteps get closer you get more and more afraid, because you are trapped and are ultimately going to sucummb to the inevitable demise. Unless, that is, that you’ve been totally innocent throughout the film up until this point. If you’ve been innocent and nice, then you might be able to overpower the beast for long enough to get down the stairs and flee into the night.

And I’m innocent. I’ve not done anything wrong. I have a chance to escape. Who am I kidding. I’ve just been made mayor of betrayal city. I’m doomed. The footsteps stop ominously and there is a knock on my door.

I straigten up my back, wipe the hair from my face. Hold my head up high and say ‘come in’

There is a pause. A moment of tense anticipation, then the door edges open and Ronni and Dervla walk in. Dervla’s face is as grim as I’ve ever seen it. She doesn’t make eye contact, her mouth is a little pouting line as she mites her bottom lip. Ronni has lost all sparkle from her eyes. I think I can see a tear welling in one.

‘Look guys’ I say ‘ I know what this is about’

‘you do?’ Ronni says, her face now more glum than before

Devla nodded ‘I wondered if you had realised’

‘We can get over this, right?’

‘Right.’ Ronni nods ‘No need for anyone to get angry. Not where boys are concerned’

Up until this point, I have to admit I had entertained the notion that perhaps we were speaking at cross purposes. Perhaps Dervla and Ronni had used up all the cereal or somthing and were anaccountably ashamed of their actions. Hearing the word boys struck my heart like a dagger. Todd and Gee hadn’t even been there today. They must have known all along after all. The whole show this morning must have been there way of trying to get me to prove loyalty to them, to the rules over some half with boys who didn’t even show up.

Dervla takes my hand in hers and presses her thumb tightly against my palm

‘Mina’ she says. Her voice is wavering and her eyes are about to explode into a flood of tears ‘I’m sorry we broke the rules’

‘I’m sorry too’ I say, and hug Dervla. I feel Ronni’s arms warp around both our shoulders. Dervla and ROnni are sorry. Everything is fine. We can go on as friends. THis could still be the best holiday ever.

Dervla and Ronni are sorry? They broke the rules?

‘Do you want to tell me what happened’ I ask, pulling out of the hug.

Ronni looks down at the feet, blushing a shade of pink which matches her jumper.

‘We were going to go to the waterfall, but on the way to hire bikes, we ran into Eugene and one fo his friends’

‘Eugene? Stalker Eugene from last year?’

‘Yeah. Well. Perhaps we were a little harsh on him. He is sweet, I suppose’

My eyes widen. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. This boy pestered Devla for the best part of six months and now shes hanging around with him. And deceiving me.

‘So why did you say you went to the waterfall? Why didn’t you just tell me?’

‘The no-boys rule was mine. I didn;t think I ought to break it. You seemed to like the idea of us being here for each other. And its not like I’m going to see him again. I made that totally clear’

‘She did’ ROnnie says ‘she told him at least three times that she wasn’t going to be able to go out with him. He seemed to take it quite well, all things considered.’

Well. They had betrayed me. But, I thought, given the circumstances, I could overlook it. Perhaps now would be a good time for me to confess too. For me to share what I had done and accept their forgiveness, after all, at the moment it looked liek I was being the kind one, and that Rooni and Dervla were the lepers asking for my salvation (Yeah, film references are good and everythign, but possibly, just possibly, comparig myself to Jesus in Quo Vadis is going a little far. Never the less, I think I would make a good messiah: I might not have the looks for it, but I would so be able to do the beautific assension thing. And I could probably cope with the not being appreciated in your own village thing too. Noone appreciates me as it is). If I am going to appologise, now is the only time to do it. Any later and I’ll come over as incinseer. I take a deep breath

‘Ronni, Dervla?’ I say ‘ Who wants to go to the waterfall tomorrow?’

***

‘Dervla, We have been walking for two hours now. Mostly uphill. We have seen two waterfalls, both from the bottom and the top. You still ahvn’t explained to me why we need to see waterfalls from the top in the first place. After all, the water all comes down tot he bottom in the end, and you don’t have to climb to get there. But more over, in all this time while we have been walking, I don’t think you have said a single sentence which hasn’t sterted, endeded or otherwise contained the word Eugene somethere within it.’

‘You’re exagerating. I might have mentioned him one or two times, but eugene was really nice yesterday’

Ronni turns to me and rolls her eyes conspiritorially ‘Dervla, you are so obsessed with that boy’

‘I’m not’ Dervla’s walking pace quickens, and I have to Run to keep up. Ronni hangs back, her heals not being ideal footwear for the earthy path we are walkign on. ‘and anyway, If I was’ Dervla shouts back to where Ronni is currently removing one of her shoes to check the heel ‘I wouldn’t have told him three times that I didn’t want to go out with him’

‘It wasn’t like he asked three times. It wasn’t like he asked once’

‘He probably thinks we are still going out. I thought I ought to get the point accross to him’

‘Anyway, Mina keeps saying she in’t interested in Tom Spiers and we know thats not true’

I decide no to rise to their baite. The world is full of men better in every way than Jerkface. At least Todd and Gee didn’t decide to humiliate me in front to the whole school. They just humilited me in front of Cormag, and, since he always treated me as if I was humiliating myself with every woord I said, that wasn’t really mcuh of a loss at all.

Ronni catches up with us, and we decide to rest and drink the thermos of coffee we brought with us

‘These rules’ ROnni says, looking over towards Dervla, who is dreaming about something, or more likely some one, and not noticing that I am tring to pass the flask to her ‘Do you think they really are all necessary?’

‘You think we should drop the restriction on boys? You shock me Ronni. I thought you were far to puritanical to ever let such a sthought enter that sweet little mind of yours. Oh, and by the way, did you make this coffee, it seems to have bit of a kick of Baileys to it’

‘Well, maybe half a bottle’ Ronni admits. ‘But given that Dervla has found somebody’

‘And that you want to find some bodies too’

‘I don’t just llok for their bodies’ ronni pouts. ‘I look for the things they clothes their bodies in, too

‘Lets see how things go’ I say and stand up, readdy to start walking again. After all, I might be able to get an explanation out of Gee and Todd. Or at least an introduction to some of their friends. Think positive, Mina, you know it makes sense.

Chapter 6

The next day is going to be the first day of the rest of my life. Except it rains. I try valliently to urge Dervla and Ronni to come out of the house with me, but Ronni insists that she has washed her hair, while Dervla is intending to wait for Eugene to call on her. Not that she has told Eugene she might be willing to go out with him after all, or even that anything has changed, its just that Dervla is currently subscribing to the ‘treat them mean, keep them keen’ school of relationships. I can only assume she replace one of her books with one of Ronni’s copies of cosmo by mistake, nevertheless it worked with Eugene last year, so I suppose it has a chance.

I however decide to brave the wet outdoors, my intention, to find Todd and Gee and find out precisely what they thought they were doing leaving me waiting all afternoon. First I walk to the rock outcrop on which we first me. I don’t expect to see them there, but I think it is fitting saomehow. The sea is billowing under the heavy wind, and the rain falls heavier from the sky. I am the only person out on the sea front, and the rain and strong winds are the readon why. I struggle to keep dry under my umbrella, but I fight a loosing battle against the wind. And there is no battle to win – Todd and Gee are clearly not foolish enough to be out in conditions like this. I could, perhaps, imagine Todd taking the opportunity to go out surfing, but not Gee.
And, given the weather I become dishearted about the only other place I can think of finding them. Why would anyone ever want ice cream in this weather, I can’t imagine. But it is the only chance. And I don;’t mean any disrespect, I mean we’ve already established that you are a discerning sort, but you havn’t tasted Nice Ice ice cream: its something special I tgell you.

So I retrace my steps towards Nice Ice. Looking in through the shopfront windows that line my route, I see people sitting inside pitying the poor fool who has decided to go outside. Eventually I reach Nice Ice. My hair is sopping weps, drips of rain water fall from it onto the floor. My clothes are equally drenched. Even if Gee and Todd were inside, I couldn’t face them looking like this. Defeated I turn to leave, but my exit is blocked by a big leather jacket, a big pair of jeans and inside them, Cormag.

‘Hi’ I say and try to edge around him, but Cormag stays in my path

‘Going somewhere?’ He asks

‘I thought you didn’t want me bothering you’

‘True. But hanging around dripping in the entrance. Thats almost as bad’

‘Well, if you’ll let me out’ I begin, but he interrupts me

‘Out? But you havn’t been in yet’

‘I’m too wet to go in’

‘You’re too wet to live, girl, but you’re not going to fix that by going out there’

‘huh’ I say and make another unsuccessful attempt to pass Cormag. He is right though, the weather outside is terrible.

‘I’ve got some stuff in the back you can wear if you’re worried about being more of a drip than usual’

Well, with clothes I could at least avoid looking like an idiot in front of Todd and Gee. And despite everything, I really could do with some chocolate ice cream – I’ll have to ask Comrag if he has any hot fudge sauce.

‘You do realise you’ve just talked me into staying’ I say, putting down my umbrella

‘I’ll live’ Cormag says, and smiles. I have a sneaking suspicion he has a reason for wanting me around, but I want food, and at this point am prepared to risk more or less everything, so I swing the door open, and stride towards the counter, behind which is the back room in which I expect to change. But I stop. Because sitting at one of the tables, staring directly at little wet me are Gee and Todd.

I drip on the floor and behind me, I hear Cormag laugh.

‘you bastard’ I shout and flick my drenched arms towards him, spraying water over his face

‘Waht was that for?’ he asks. I sence incredualrity in his voice, but I also sense incinserity. Really I don’t think he have ever been sinceer in his life. ‘There are still some dry clothes out back if you want them’

I follow Cormag behind the counter and he opens a cupboard marked staff uniforms

‘Uniforms?’ I ask

Cormag smirks. ‘Yeah. Not really my thing. But you’ll be able to pull them off’ He reaches in and removes a vision in pink and cream.

‘Urgh’ I say, holding it up in front of me ‘Ronnie would love it’

‘Pardon?’

‘Nothing. These’ll have to do I say’

Cormag stands there. I wait in silence. He stays there. I wait a bit longer. No movement.

‘What?’ I shout

‘Nothing’

‘Well, if you think I’m changing while you stand there’

‘Whatever’ and Cormag walks back out front.

I dress myself, and spend a few minutes trying to tell myself that it isn’t too bad. I call pull this off. I might not have the cute and dangerous Ronni look, but I have my own subtle charms. I look down towards my underdeveloped chest. Very subtle charms. Practically subvocal.

No.

Petite and fabulous and bedecked in colours reminiscent of a raspberry ripple. I hold my head up high, smile my brightest smile and stroll confidently out.

My confidence lasts for a good two seconds, then Cormag doubles over laughing. Todd and Gee join him in his merriment as soon as they look over to see what the commotion is about.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen. And when I say that, I’m referring to you two. I was lying about the Gentlemen. I present the latest member of the Nice Ice franchise, Mina Bennet’

‘huh?’ I turned to Cormag

‘Well, I could do with a hand. If you want a job for a week or two, you can have one. You fit the uniform, thats more than these two Nice Ice rejects ever managed’ Cormag gestured to Todd and Gee. Tod and Gee gestured back, but their gestures were a lot less friendly.

‘You could do with a hand? Theres never nayone in here’

‘You havn’t been here in the evening, have you?’

‘It gets busy?’ I ask. Visions of Coyote Ugly flash in front of my face. I’m really not sure I’m up to that.

‘We do alright, don’t we Todd’

Todd looks up, ‘This place is on fire after nine, man’

‘I’m goning to have to think about it’

‘Let me know tomorrow. I havn’t got that much time’

‘Will do. Now, while I’m still a customer, I want some ice cream’

‘Coming up’

I turn to Todd and Gee. They dodge my gaze. You can tell they still find the whole situation hilarious, but suddenly they’ve realised that they have something to be embarassed about, or at least somthing they feel they should be embarassed about. I hear it said they are pretty much the same thing to boys. I take my place at the table opposite them and we sit in silence. Cormag brings over my ice cream, and I begin to eat it.

I pop the cherry into my mouth and pull out the stalk between my teeth. When ROnni does that it always looks increditly sexy as she twists it around her pinky. Me, however, well it get stuck, so I tug the stalk harder. It stays stuck between my front teeth. I can’t push it back in either. I pull it harder, yank it. It comes free, but my hand slams down into the double fudge surprise sending the spoon flying 2001-like across the room.

‘I think you have some explaining to do’ I say through my furious blushes. I’m not convinced Todd hears me over his laughing, but Gee has enough composure to reply

‘About the other afternoon?’

‘Yes, about the other afternoon’

Gee looks pained

‘Something came up. I didn’t know how to let you know. Its not like I know where you were staying’

‘You could have left a message’

‘Well, Cormag could have told you’

‘He did.’

‘So, no hard feelings then?’

‘You stood me up’

‘Yeah, but with good reason.’

I recall the girls Cormag described ‘two good reasons, if I’m not mistaken’

‘You think. You think I didn’t turn up because of the other girls?’

I nod

‘I suppose you’re right. But it isn’t like it sounds’

‘Go on. Were these magic girls who shouldn’t upset me. Do they have special powers I should be made aware of’

‘One of them was an ex of mine. I hadn’t seen her for a long time. We had some catching up to do. Some appologising’

‘Appologising’

‘Yeah. I did some things to upset her. But I’m a changed man’

‘Changed?’

‘very much so. Now I rescue fair damsels in distress and feed them ice cream’

‘And your ex?’

‘Still very much in the past’

‘So’ I ask. I raise my voice’s pitch to sound a little more like Ronni when shes flirting ‘Do you have anyone in the present?’

‘Not right at this moment, no’

***

‘I’ve got a job’ I announce as I walk though the cottage door

‘A job?’ Dervla shouts back ‘arn;t you meant to be on holiday’

‘What are you doing’ Ronni calls

‘Its at a place called Nice Ice. I’m a waitress’.

‘At an Ice Cream parlour?’ Ronni asks

‘Only in the evening. We can still do stuff together in the day’

‘We’re gonna have to change our plans as far as fatty foods are concerned then’

‘Oh, they have a good range of fruit smoothies on late night’ Dervla suggests

‘You know Nice Ice?’ I ask

‘I’ve been here before, remember. This is my summer house’

‘When did you go there’

‘Its where I hung out all of last summer’

‘You think I’ll be alright workign there’

‘You’ll be fine. Cormag will look after you’

‘Cormag can sit and spin for all I care’

‘Yeah. He does that to you’

‘Comming down tonight’

Before Dervla can answer ROnni jumps in ‘You bet! If we’re breaking the rules, we might as well do it in style.’

I can feel my ultimate holiday slipping out beneath my feet. At least Gee and Todd will be around for moral support.

***

I had never seen Nice Ice at night, so I have no idea of quite what to expect. The floodlighting came as a bit of a shock, as did the music blaring out. Mor Coyote Ugly flashbacks ran through my mind. I wasn’t a struggling but gifted shy musician. I was a struggly but gifted shy nobody. If I got over my shyness all that would happen was I would become a nobody. plus there was no way I would do any near naked gyrating on the bar: well, not unless the icecream got especially good in the evening.

This is a story I wrote for a NaNoWriMo many years ago.  It had an interesting origin.  I knew I wanted to write some teen fiction – I had been vaguely thinking about something steampunk-y.  But before I started I did some research.  I found myself loving the books of Meg Cabot, and remembering that in my preteens I had developed a bit of a passion for teenage romance books.  This is the sort of thing a boy should never admit to, clearly.

I also remembered a book – certainly in the humorous teen romance genre –  which my uncle had bought me, a book which I believe had been a bestseller in Singapore (indeed, I think a film was made of it – a film which I would dearly love to see) but was unknown in the UK – ‘The Teenage Textbook’ by Adrian Tan.  I was able to find my copy and reread it.  And having reread it, I placed in in the ever growing pile of books on my bedside table.

Santi di Tito - Niccolo Machiavelli's portrait headcrop

Shortly before NaNoWriMo began, I managed to knock all the books on my bedside tabel flying.  When I bent over to pick them up, I noticed that lying on top of ‘The Teenage Textbook’ and ‘All American Girl’ was a copy of ‘The Prince’ by Machiavelli.  Now, my teen years were not all smiles and laughter.  I’m a firm believer that if you were to take all the evil in the hearts of mankind and somehow personify it, it would probably take shape as a thirteen year old boy.  And it occurred to me that while the concept of ‘The Teenage Textbook’ (a teenager’s life is changed when they are given a book which humorously guides them through the trials and tribulations of teenhood) was fun, it would be much better to be guided through your teen years with a book that taught you to conquer your enemies through deception and guile – what if a nerdy, needy teenager was given not ‘the Teenage Textbook’ but instead a copy of ‘The Prince’ adapted for the schoolyard.  I named the book ‘The Principles’ after the popular self help book ‘The Rules’ which was doing the rounds at the time.

I’m actually reasonably pleased with this.  It’s clunky, but not awful for a first draft.  Every so often I come back to it, thinking I might be able to whip it into shape.  However ti has aged badly.  Mobile phones would change how the story works, and I use possessing a MiniDisk player as a sign of being spoiled (whereas now it would be… I don’t know… something modern teens would have to ask their parents to explain.  And then laugh at.  We’ve come a long way in the last decade)

 The Principles

Chapter 1 – The Boston Hot Chocolate Party

 

 

I thought I was happy in Boston.  I didn’t know I was happy; you never really realise that sort of thing until Bamn! – the happiness is gone and your life is left in a million and one tiny pieces waiting for you to pick them up, or hide them under the carpet.  Which is what happened to me last august.

 

 

Dad came into the room.  This was an event in itself, during the day you normally had to surgically remove Dad from his computer in the study.  Dad had a tendency to loose track of time while he was working, to find himself in a kind of daze, unable to notice anything except for the mouse and the keyboard.  Sometimes this included lunch, pretty much always this included me.  Don’t get me wrong, Dads great when you get him away from the computer, he was the one who got me interested in Medieval history, reneicence fairs, that sort of thing, but once he starts working you normally have to spend real effort to get him to stop.  Which is why seeing dad outside of his office during the vacation let me know he wanted to have A Talk.  The way dad said “A Talk” you could hear the capital letters.  Normally it meant that Dad wanted to explain to me why it was fundamentally important that I don’t get pregnant (as if!  The best form of birth control known to man is the invisible field which surrounds me and causes boys to run away screaming in terror) or take drugs.  Dad stuff.  But today I knew the “A Talk” was going to be a bit more serious, because a minute or two after Dad came into the the room, Mom followed, carrying three big mugs of hot chocolate.

 

 

Hot chocolate was moms answer to everything.  If you fell over and grazed your knee, hot chocolate would make it better.  If your best friend at school decided that by cutting you and talking to miss popular Jennifer Caprelli at recess she would have a better life, then when you got home in the evening, hot chocolate would alleviate the torment.  I’m fairly certain that mom’s reaction to hearing that thermonuclear war was imminent would be to start boiling milk.  Mom was obsessed.  It wasn’t like it was normal hot chocolate – mom got her sister, mad aunt gladys from England, to send parcels of english hot chocolate over.  Did I mention that mom was obsessed?  With all sorts of things.  All sorts of minor, trivial things.  Like the hot chocolate.  Like making kneelers for the local church.  Like reading holiday brochures and planning world spanning jaunts – despite the fact we always ended up going camping with Dad’s brother, Uncle Hugh. But apparently Mom had a new hobby.  She was going to wreck my life.  Yay mom!

 

 

Mom passed me a mug of steaming chocolate.  Her hand touched the back of mine as she gave it too me, and lingered just a second too long, tenderly.  Which did nothing to ease the tention.  I knew there was something important they were going to tell me, why did they have to draw it out with this ritual of caring and concern?  Why couldn’t they just get it over with?  Dad looked at me, made eye contact, broke eye contact amost immediately and eventually settled at looking somewhere an inch or two above my head.  Which as far as dad goes is good people skills.  Really.  Dad isn’t the best at interacting with others, and I sort of get that from him.  I tend to shrink away from stangers and people I don’t know really well by hiding myself in a book.  Just like Dad hides himself away with his computer.  How dad ever plucked up the courage to talk to Mom I don’t know.  It must have been one of those quirks of fate that only happen once every thousand years.  Which means it’ll be a millenium before I ever manage to ask a boy out.

 

 

“Loren…” Dad said.  I should have introduced myself, Hi, I’m Loren Grossman, nice weather we’re having and so forth.

 

“Loren…” Dad said again.  Repeating himself, like he always does we he’s nervous or has something really important to say

 

“Loren…” Dad was sweating, I watched a bead of perspiration roll down his forehead and nestle in his bushy left eyebrow

 

“Loren sweety” That was Mon.  And it was Mom who was going to have this conversation, because when Mom and dad spoke, what actually happened was Mom spoke and dad murmered consenting noises. “you know your dad’s project was coming to an end?  Well he’s finished”

 

That was a good thing, right?  It would mean Dad would be out of his study more, able to spend some of my vaction with me?  So why were they looking so serious, so concerned?

 

“And sweety”  I can tell you now, if Mom called me sweety again, I was going to throttle her “you know the computer job market is a bit tight at the moment?”

 

I did.  It was in the newspapers and the trade magazines Dad left lying around the sitting room. I nodded.

 

“Well, Dad’s been given an opportunity – a really good one”

 

I nodded and smiled.  Mom tried to smile back.

 

“Its in Cambridge”

 

I nodded.  Across the river.  No big deal.

 

“We’re goign to have to move there.  You’ll have to change school”

 

“Why?”  It didn’t make sense.  Dad could drive to work, Cambridge isn’t that far.  There was no need to upset our life, no need for anything to change.

 

“Its a good job.  Really good.  And it’ll be nice to spend more time with Aunty Gladys”

 

“Aunty Gladys?”  Now I was confused.  How did she fit into this.  She halfway round the world in England.  In Cambridge, England.  Halfway around the world.  We were going to be moving to England.

 

“No!” I shouhted. “how can you do this to me.  I’m finally manageing to make progress at high school.  I’m fitting in.  Things are going really well.  I’ve got friends and the teachers are cool.  Why the hell do you think you have the right to uproot me from everything I know and drag me to some godforsaken hole in England?”

 

Well, actually I didn’t.  Thats what I wanted to say, what I should have said.  Its how I felt.  What I actually said was: “I understand” and nodded.  Mum smiled.  Dad looked releived, and put his hand on my shoulder.  How could they do this to me?   Didn’t they realise they were ruining my life?

 

 

Chapter 2 – Common Ground

 

 

We had two weeks to make arrangements, or as Mom said “A fortnight, thats what you’ll have to start calling it now”.  And Morag was at camp, so I couldn’t even say goodbye properly.  I had to explain everything by email.She wasn’t best pleased,but what could i do?  Mum and Dad were rushing around, trying to find a way to pack up everything I owned into boxes.  I couldn’t take much more of it, so I escaped to the common to drink lemonade and watch people doing Tai-Chi.  But without Morag it wasn’t fun, it was just relief from the hubub at home.

 

 

I tried to sort things out in my mind.  Why was this bothering me so much?  Firstly, Boston was my home.  It was where I grew up.  Its what I know.  There probably isn’t a backroad I havn’t wandered along in the city centre.  Having to learn a new town with a different personality wasn’t something I wanted to bother about.  Secondly, Boston is where I went to school.  I’m not popular, I’m shy – I prefer to have my head in a book than listen to Jeniffer Caprelli telling me about the latest boy she has conquored, but theres Morag and a few of the others that I’m riendly with.  And thats taken time to develop – a year of effort and stress at high school and all my work is for nothing.  Even my school work won’t count for much – theres a whole different curriculum to contend with.  Mum showed mew one of her old history books – english history had more or less finished by the time the declaration of independence was signed, and I don’t know any of it.Then there’s Aunt Gladys.  Mad Aunt Gladys.  Shes alright in small doses, but living in the same town as her, seeing her almost every day, thats frightening.

 

 

I sipped my lemonade and shivered.  Aunt Gladys was so… full on.  She was loud and brash.  Whenever we went out for a meal, even to a Pizza Hut, she would complain about the tiniest thing, a speck of dirt on a knife or too much ice in a glass of coke.  Whenever she was making a fuss, I would try to shrink back into my seat and avoid being noticed, but Gladys would just turn to me and say something like

 

“You don’t need to be embarrassed, its not you whos being embarassing, its me”.

 

 

This, I belive, is proof that, despite my mothers assertions and photographic proof to the contrary, Aunt Gladys had never been a teenage girl.  But Gladys wasn’t the thing making me shudder, it was Gladys’s daughter, my cousin, Julia.  Princess Julia.  Popular Julia.  Always dressed immaculatley in the latest fashions while I prefered comfortable jeans and t-shirts.  Always on the phone home to boys whenever she came out on Holiday.  It was mom who pointed out we would be able to go to school together, that we would be in the same year.  She said I’d be at an advantage knowing someone as popular as Julia, but she doesn’t know modern girls like I do – I’ll be in Julia’s shadow, always being compared to her, unable to ever really find people who like me for who I am.

 

 

I walked home past the swan boats and looked at the couples canoodling in the afternoon sun.  I had always had this romantic dream that one day i would be sitting in the boats, a gorgeous hunk stuck to my lips and tangled in my embrace.  It hit me that now that was unlikely to ever happen, even my dreams of the future were being wrested from me.  And Mom and dad didn’t even seem to care – or even realise what it was they were doing.  How was it possible to start all over again?  I slupred the dregs of my lemonade and thew the cup in the bin.

 

 

Back home, Mom was harranging dad for not packing according to the sceme she had carfully planned out.  Patiently pointing out what would go in the container and what we would take with us on the plane.  I checked my email, but Morag hadn’t written.  Mum came up behind me and massaged my shoulders.

 

 

“It going to be good, Loren, an adventure.  Theres so much about your roots, your english roots, that you don’t know.  Trust me, you’ll love it there”

 

 

Dad wandered past and added

 

“It’ll be cool, Loren” and grinned that charming grin from behind his beard.

 

 

There was no point in  complaining, I realised that, Dad seemed to be excited about his new challenge, mom clearly wanted to be back in her home with her family.  What right did I have to ask them to put all their plans on hold just because I wanted to stay at my school.  Maybe I’d fit in better at Julia’s school.  It was a possibility.  A fresh start where nobody knew me.I smiled.  For a few moments I had almost managed to convince myself that everything might turn out good.  I had a hope to cling to, and that was enough to let me cope with the remaining days of insanity.

 

 

Chapter 3 – Coming From America

 

 

Before I knew it I was in the airport, then on a plane and finally landing at London Heathrow.  I hadn’t expected it to be quite so busy, I don’t know why I had sort of expected somethng smaller out in the middle of the countryside, surrounded by green rolling hills.  Dad had hired a car to take us there.  It was a stick shift – a manual – which caused us some ammusment as he bunnyhopped out of the parking lot, but he got the hang of it after a few minutes. I hadn’t expected to spend the next few hours in a traffic jam, edging slowly towards my new home,staying with aunt Gladys until we found somewhere to live.  I did get to see the countryside as the car finally reached escape velocity and broke free from Lonon, but it was flat.  Dead flat.  Lots of grass fields and not much else as faar as the eye could see.  Mum explained that the area had all been under water until the sixteenth century when dutch immigrents drained it, just like they had drained the netherlands.  I wondered what sort of influence immigrants like Dad and I would be able to make.  Would people look at the results of what we did five huindred years later?  Would people care what I did next week?

 

 

Gladys had a house on the edge of the town.  Well, I call Cambridge a town, but technically its a city – which is odd because its tiny – I could walk across the whole thing given an hour or so.  Compared to lots of the other houses packed side by side in the narrow streets, Aunt Gladys’ house was huge, but by the standards of the burbs it was a bit pokey, certainly not up to providing a place for the six of us to live.  When we arrived, and pulled into the curb to park, Gladys was out waiting.  She screamed with joy at seeing Mom and rushed over to hug her, before mum had even been able to get out of the car.  Mum struggled for freedom but eventually gave in and joined the lovein wholeheartedly.  I quietly removed myself from the back seat and headed towards the open door.  A few minutes lated I noticed dad had followed me.  Insude, in the hallway princess Julia looked up from her telephone call to see what the disturbance was, befor falling back into a gabbling conversation.  Dad raised his hand and mouthed the word “Hello”, I just smiled a hopeful smile.

 

 

After an age of standing around and waiting awkwardly, dad with his hand holding my shoulder, rubbing gentle rubs of encouragement, Gladys and Mum burst into the house laughing and talking a bit too loundlky.  Gladys grasped the telephone from Julia’s hand and hung it back on the wall.

 

 

“Mum” Julia moaned “That was Davey.  You’ve just Hung up on Davey.  He won’t talk to me for weeks, how could you do this to me?  Now I’ll have to call Chris or someone”

 

As if Julia could actually differentiate between Davey or Chris or whoever.  Gladys just laughed

 

“You’re beautiful Jules, if Davey can’t cope with being hung up on he really isn’t worth it.  And anyway, your auncle and aunt are far more important than any boy”

 

“But Mum” but clearly Julia knew her mother, she just jumped up and trudged off up the stairs to her bedroom.

 

“Sorry about Julia” Gladys said

 

“No, don’t wory about it., girls are all the same.  This one’s been moping about the house for weeks, havn’t you?”  mum ruffled my hair, and I tried to duck to get out of her reach.

 

So mum had noticed that I was upset.  I thought I’d kept it from them, let them think I was hapy with the whole move, but they had known how I felt about it and gone aheads anyway.  So much for the loving parents who care about their daughter’s wellbeing.  So much for any hope I had of adjusting.  And just when things couldn’t get any worse, with just a few words,

 

“Loren darling, you’ll be sharing a room with Julia” Aunt Gladys sentenced me to a fate worse than death.  Now I knew why Julia had glared at me quite so harshly.  As far as she was concerned, I was invading her space, I was making her life as big a hell as my parents were making mine.  And I couldn’t do a thing about it.  I smiled, said “fine”, and lugged my suitcase up the stairs.

 

 

***

 

 

When I got into Julia’s room, she was sitting crosslegged on her bed, eyes closed, listening to a discman, a camp bed had been placed in a corner for me.  I rested my suitcase against it, an wondered if I should try to get Julia’s attention, but she was blanking me.  I unfastened my case and started sorting my things out.  Now for Julia, not having an acre of closet space was probably a matter of life and death, but since I preferred jeans and comfortable t-shirts, I was content to sling them over a chair.  Then I pulled out some books.  Running out of bookcase space, now that was a real problem, but I’d hardly been able to bring any of them with me – they were all being shipped over in a large container and wouldn’t arrived until mom and dad had found their own house.  I looked around to see what Julia had, but aside from a few magazines scattered on her dressing table, I didn’t see anything to read at all.  Julia just carried on sitting there, bobbing her head ever so slightly in time with the silent music.  I sat down on by bed and started to read.

 

 

Downstairs Mom and Gladys eventually settled down a bit and stopped screaming at one another.  I don’t think I had heard dad say a word since comming inside.  I felt a moment of pity for him, Mom and Gladys would gang up against him, like they always did.  I was about to wander down and offer some moral support then Julia opened her eyes and noticed me sitting there.  She poped her headphones out of her ears and struck up a conversation in the way only Julia can

 

“Hey”

 

That was it, just “Hey”.  I didn’t know if it was a “Hey I’m glad to see you” sort of a hey or perhaps a “Hey you’re invading my privacy hey”.  Maybe it was a “Hey I can see a wrecking ball behind you about to crash through the wall and kill you”, but she didn’t seem to be smiling enough for that to be likely.  I opted for saftey

 

“Hey” I said.

 

“you never been to England before?”

 

“once, when I was three.  I don’t remember it really”

 

“oh.”

 

and then she put her headphones back on, put a new CD in her player, then hesitated and threw the box at me

 

“You heard of them”

 

I looked, it was by ‘the classix’.  They were a Boston band, independent but people talked about them, they played around the clubs a bit.  I’d never seen them, or even heard their music.  But I knew who they were, and it was worth making an effort.  “The Classix?  Yeah, they’re from back home”

 

“Cool”, Julia flicked me just the slightest of smiles.  You could see why men threw themselves at her feet with a smile like that, then she returned to her own world of music while I returned to my book.

 

 

Chapter 4 – Mack 1

 

 

When I finally came downstairs, I lingered outside the sitting room door before joining my parents.  They were talking quietly, a little too quietly, as if the subject of their conversation was a little taboo.  Of course I paused rather than revealing myself – there are benefits to being quiet and not very noticable at times.  Gladys was speaking:

 

“he’s been writing to me recently.  I told him you were coming to visit”

 

“You didn’t?  You know how I feel about him”  that was dad, he sounded tense, angry almost.  It wasn’t like Dad, he was one of the most laid back people I knew, normally just taking whatever the world threw at him.

 

“It’s been sixteen years” Gladys said “and it all worked out for the best after all”

 

“No thanks to him” dad answered, suprisingly firmly.  Mum agreed with him.

 

“I think Mack just wants to say that hes sorry, to make it up to you”

 

“Its a bit late for that, isn’t it”

 

“Oh come on” Gladys urged “You’re making a new start over here, why don’t you give him the same benefit”

 

“Hmh” – that was a dad noise, it meant something like “I can’t be bothered with this discussion, and secretly I know you’re right, but I’m still objecting”

 

“Gladys might have a point, love” Mom said

 

“Hmh”

 

“He’ll be coming over later on this week.  You can be in or out, as you choose.”

 

“Hmh”

 

“We’ll be here” Mom told Gladys.  “Agaisnt my better judgement, we’ll be here”

 

“Thanks”

 

“Does Julia know Mack’s comming?”

 

“No”

 

“Good.  It’s probably best if Loren doesn’t find out – at least until we know where we stand.  What she doesn’t know…” Mum said

 

“Can’t hurt her.  Sure.” Gladys assured her.

 

 

So not only was I being forced to live here, being made to look like the enemy to Julia and having my life wrecked in the process, Mom and dad were keeping secrets from me.  I opened the door and walked in, all noise ceased, and dad, under his beard, showed signs of acute embarassment.  I chose to ignore them and sit myself down.

 

 

“Lori” Aunt Galdys said “Lori swetheart, we were thinking of going out for a meal tonight.  How do you feel about that?”

 

I yawned.  The jetlag, and the exhaustion of flying all night was getting to me, but I wouldn’t have a chance to sleep without expelling princess Julia from her own private domain – which didn’t seem to be the most sensible of maneavers at this point.

 

“Too tired, sweetie?”.  I grimaced.  “Lori” “Sweetheart” “SWEETIE” arrgghh.  Now I knew where mom got it from.  But Gladys was smiling, she honestly thought this would ingratiate herself with me.  Well I’m not her little princess, I’m Loren with an ‘e’ and an ‘n’, I told her.  There never has and never will be an ‘i’ at the end of my name.  I am nobodies sweet anything, I’m me damn it!  And if there are things going on that could potentially affect me, like, I don’t know planning on moving to another country or people called Mack who I’m not meant to know about, well I should be told about them straight out, not have to listen through doors or be bribed with hot chocolate – hot chocolate which, incidentally is porobably soley reposibible for the size of my thighs, and thus indirectly why no boy would ever consider me datable in the slightest.

 

 

Actually, I didn’t quite tell her that.  What I said was:

 

 

“No.  Its a nice idea.” and managed a small smile.  But the rest was implied.  After all, at dinner Mum and Gladys would drink, and something about Mack would be sure to slip out if I directed the questions appropriately.  And they wouldn’t have to be embarassed if I made a scene – after all it was be being embarassing, not them.

 

 

Chapter 5 – Dinner Nobis Pacem

 

 

We walked into town for dinner, the first time I had been to the center.  Mum and Gladys pointed out various old builings and told me what colleges they were.  I listened, but didn’t take anything in.  They tried to explain why “Magdalen” was pronounced Maud-lin, but from a country whhere people pronounce aluminum ‘aloo-min-ee-um’ and chips ‘crisps’, I didn’t think it was much of a surprise, really.  Julia wasn’t listening at all, diskman on her side she was just following along.  It was probably all stuff she knew anyway.  Gladys turned and climbed down som steps into a cellar restraunt.  There were places like that in Boston, just off the common.  Everything reminded me of home.  And of course Gladys hadn’t booked, and there wasn’t any space.  Which idn’t stop her from haranging the Maitrede until he found somewhere for us to sit.  I could have died from embarassment, but Julia’s face just showed grim resignation.  I suppose when you live with Gladys all your life, you just get used to it.  Which is just one of the reasons why i want to get out of ths house as soon as is humanly possible -  nobody should ever find Gladys’s behaviour even close to tollerable.

 

 

We sat at the table, Julia, Dad and I silent while Mom and Gladys continued to yap.  I would have tought by now they would have managed to discuss absolutely everything that had happened to them since they last saw one another, but apparently not.  Julia had, at least, removed her headphones.  Every so so often, Mom or Gladys would ask me a question, ususally precced by calling me sweetie.  I remained civil.  Civility was the only thing that separated us from the animals… well, civility and using our knife and fork at the same time, in different hands – which Mom and dad ha explained was the correct way to do things over here.  I tried my best, but i detected a brief flicker of ammusement on Julias face when I resorted to scooping up my peas at the end of the main course.  At no point did they mention anything that sounded like Mack.  I gave it a few goes:

 

 

“Mom, are you planning on seeing any of your old friends?”

 

“Some dear, but not until we have our own house so I can entertain them properly”

 

And then Gladys joined in pointing out that her home was our home and we should treat it as we liked-  which was obviously already nowhere like being the case.  It was foreign ground on foreign ground.  Foriegn ground squared.

 

Later on I offered up a “Why did you and dad ever leave England”.  I knew the answer, Dad was from Boston, they met when he was on holiday over here, and after a while Mom followed him back, but I wondered if there was another story, one that Gladys would offer.  There wasn’t.  Gladys accepted Mom and Dad’s story and didn’t feel the need to make any comment.  Which was suspicious, Gladys normally feels she has to make her comment on almost everything anyone else says.

 

 

The sweet finally arrived.  I know it sounds childish, but desert is why I like eating out.  Mom and Dad never have anything sweet in the house “You’re sweet enough already” was not so much a compliment as a cliche back home, so eating out was my only opportunity to each ice cream or death by chocolate.  Julia seemed to have much the same attitude, except I bet she didn’t have to spend the next week or so worrying that the death by chocolate would also mean death to any vague chances of having a love life.  This was probably my last chance to find out what they were hiding from me and I suspected Dad might prove a better target for my interrogation

 

“Dad?”

 

“Yes Loren”

 

“Won’t you feel strange no knowing anyone over here?”

 

“I know a few people”

 

“But all your firends are back in Boston”

 

“Loren…”

 

and then he repeated himself

 

“Loren…”

 

“Loren…  Yes, but there’ll be the people I’m working with here”.  There was something bothering him.  I was about to push him further, when gladys rushed to hs rescue

 

“Are you worried you don’t know anyone, dear?  Julia will introduce you to her firends and show you around a bit, won’t you jules?”

 

I awaited an explosion, or at least an indignent silence, followed by lots fo silence directed at me for the next few days.  What I didn’t expect was Julia’s reply

 

“Yeah, cool, Loren, I was going to hang with the guys at the grafton centre tomorrow, do you want to come by?  We could grab a coffee then see a film?”

 

I was dumbstruck.  Everyone was beaming at Julia, and she was looking directly at me.  It must have come as a shok to everyone: it was quite possibly the longest sentence Julia had ever managed without speaking into a telephone.

 

“Loren?” Julia asked, looking at me with a little sweet upset puppy dog wanting attention kind of an expression.  Wat choice did I have?

 

“Yeah.  Whats a grafton centre?”

 

“A shopping centre… a Mall you’d call it”

 

Oh my god.  I had just agreed to become a mall rat.  Next thing I knew I would probably be pointing at buff guys from the saftey of a coffee bar and sniggering with the other girls.  But despite everything it appeared Julia wanted to be a friend.

 

 

Chapter 6

 

 

The weather forcast had said it was going to be sunny at first with rain later on, so Julia decided we were going to walk to the mall.  She had become a little more talkative, not much, but I had managed to establish that she absolutely loved ‘the cyclix’, thought school was for nerds, but there were some cool people there, especially Mr Andrews the art teacher who as quote dreamy and really easy to talk to unquote.  Of course, having been to Boston to visit Mom Julia knew everything about me – or at least enough to let her say “Oh yeah, I remember that” when I told her about some of my old haunts.  She told me there were going to be a whole crowd of people there, and reelled off a list of names.  I didn’t see much point in remembering them – it might be easier when I had some faces to put to them.  Or perhaps not, I’m not good with names at the best of times.  As we crossed the river Julia pointed out the rowers and we laughed together.  There is something about athletic men flexing their muscles while clad in only skimpy lycra which creates a bond between girls like us.

 

 

When we arived at the grafton centre I my first impression is that it wasn’t something we would call a Mall back home, more like something we would think of as a downmarket annex to a Mall.  It was just a bunch of shops inside and tiny, you could walk your way through the entire thing in about ten minutes : which is exaactly what we did in order to get to the coffee shop where Julia had arranged to meet ‘the gang’.  There were only two of ‘the gang’ there when we arrived, and Julia introduced me to them, Carrie and her twin brother Sam.  Carrie was a vision in sweatpants, beclothed in jogging bottoms, sneakers, and a T-shirt that instructed me to “Just do it”.  Not that I suspected Carrie had Just Done anything, here hair was neatly sprayed and her clothes far too immaculatly arranged.  Sam was keenly averting his eyes from Julia and me, trying to pretend he was suddenly desperatly interested in something across the other side of the concourse, in a shoe store.   I looked over there and saw nothing of note – unless you have a fascination with great savings on hush puppies and other major brands.  I was introduced and then Julia changed.  it was like seeing a butterfly released from a cocoon, no wait it was more like an alien burting out of a chest.  Julia was no longer a sweet, silent princess, but a chatty boisterous people’s princess.  She was with her people, and quickly began to hold court.

 

 

As each of her subjects arrived, they were given the same introduction to me, and offered the chance to say a few things about themselves, or ask me a question before falling back into rapturous worship of their leige.  A little unfair, perhaps, it wasn’t quite like that, but julia lead the conversation and it certainly all centered around her.  I tired hard to keep up with the names and faces which were being thrust towards me

 

 

Harriet, had very pale skin skin, almost translucent like alabaster.  She spoke softly and looked at you like she was slightly suprised by every sound you made.  Nevertheless she was incredibly pretty – model pretty.  Kim was a brunett and slightly chubbier, but in a way which excentuated her body’s curves.  She was very straight talking and I got a sense she was a bit of a tomboy, certainly she spent lots of her time talking to Michael.  Michael was thin with spikey hair and a freckled face.  He was, I was told, Captain of the year’s football team.  Which confused me for a moment before I realised they meant soccer.  Then came Rachel, who’s long air ran down the length of her back and ended somewhere slightly below her knees.  Rachel, I was assured, was a bit of a brainiac, but otherwise totally cool.  I suspected there was a possibility I might be able to get on well with her, but I wasn’t happy, these were clearly beautiful people, and here i was, a stranger who hadn’t even made the second tear of the beautiful people from my country and with a brash uncultured american upbringing to contend with.

 

 

The film we were planning on seeing I had already seen two months before, but that turned out to be no problem.  We were, apparently waiting on Antonio.  Noone seemed to have noticed that I didn’t belong amongst the beautiful people, so I decided to ride it out and enjoy their company until I met people more of my own level on the social ladder.  As Antonio steadfastly failed to arrive, and frantic phone calls suggested that he had left home to meet us, there was healthy debate as to whether we should go in now, or wait for him to turn up.  The argument was finally settled when we noticed that we had lost track of the time and that the film had started four minutes previously – we were too late to get in.  Julia, slightly annoyed decided to get more coffee and change the subject of our conversation to boys.  This gave sam a chance to escape as the boys settled to discuss whatever it is boys find interesting – cars, computers, whatever.  Kim explained that Michael was about to break up with his girlfriend and that she was waiting to jump in to fill the gap.  It all seemed a little manipulative to me, especially when I had heard her telling him that she thought he needed “some time to breath, without her around” only moments before.  Rachel was attracted to money, she imagined herself with a dot com millionaire – I didn’t want to burst her bubble and let her know they were all scrabbling around for any job opportunity now, just like my Dad.  Harriet pointed out a group of boys waiting to get a burger, in particular a tall dark haired guy wearing a leather jacket – biker chiq, despite the fact she would brumble and fracture anywhere near a real bike and Julia- well Julia returned to dreaming about the rowers.  I tried to remain out of the conversation, I mean my real answer was “anyone, preferably male with at least one head” but they wouldn’t understand my level of desperation, not when they had boys throwing themselves after them, but as Julia began to extert pressure on me tot alke, I saw him.

 

 

The rowers were good, granted, but they were a bit blond-haired, blue eyed identikit arian for me.  I wanted a bit of charma bit of mystery, a latin temprament and the swarthy chiseled goog look to match.  I wanted a man who would grab me in his finely tones arms, and embrace me so tightly that I couldn’t feel where I ended and he began, so that we were one.  And I could see him, on the other side of the mall.  I pointed, subtly, so he wouldn’t notice, you understand, but clearly that each and every one of us turned our eyes towards the delicious morsel who was coming towards us.  “That is him.  That is perfection.  He is the man I’m going to Marry – or at least live with”

 

“Err Loren?” Julia said, trying hard not to laugh.  The others broke out into a fit of giggles which made me turn a bright shade of red.  “Loren, ” she wvaed her and at the object of my affections. “this is antonio.  Antonio” she shouted, “this is your future wife”

 

 

And so it was, the first time I saw antonio, my face was the colour of a london bus, and all chance I had of ever speaking to him had vanished into a puff of smoke.  I couldn’t look anyone in the eye, there was nothing I coulsd say, any sound I made would just make me seem like more of a moron to everyone.  I sat in silence for what seemed like hours, as they continued to chat, laugh, joke over me.  Eventually I couldn’t stand it any more.  “I’m going to the toliet” I said.  But I lied, I headed off in that direction, but took the first door out as soon as I could.  I rushed home, tears straming dowwn my cheeks.  I knew I could always claim I had got lost and couldn’t find them if I was challenged, but they clearly didn’t want a loser like me aorund tem anyway – this way everyone won.

 

 

Chapter 7 – Mack 2

 

 

There was a strange man standing in my garden.  Now for all I knew he might be a perfectly normal man, and to be fair, this wasn’t actually my garden, It was Aunt Gladys’s garden.  It was likely that any of Aunt glady’s male friends would be stange. Actually the strange man didn’t look streange at all.  He was tall, but well groomed, every hair on his head was perfectly placed, his glasses had a small, but noticable, Armani label, his suit was tailroed to his body and his grin showed perfectl white teeth. Had he been twenty of so years younger I might have fancied him.  As it was I was a stupid girl in her mid teens with my hair in a mess and tears pouring out of my bloodshot eyes.

 

 

He bent down slightly and looked at me thorough his deep brown eyes.  His glasses magnified his pupil’s size, I could have looked into them for hours.

 

“you must be Loren”  Well, I suppose it would be stupid to consider that aunt Gladys might not have talked about me.  But still, full marks for managing to pay attention to her for more than a few minutes-  its more than I could ever acheive.  I didn’t quite know what to say… I assume strangers in the UK are as likely to bundle me into their car with propisies of puppies and candy, just like thet are back in the states.  I just stared, unsure of what to do.

 

“Perhaps I ought to introduce myself”.  He smiled his prize winning smile.  ” my name is Mack”

 

He paused, dramatically.  So this was the mysterious Mack, well, if it was OK for my parents to conspire to meet him in secret, it would be fine for me to talk to him. I relaxed slightly, perched on the garden wall and wiped some of the tears from my eyes.

 

“Mack Grossman” he said.

 

“Grossman?”

 

“Grossman.  Loren, I’m your Dad’s brother, your uncle.”

 

“but dad doesn’t have any…”

 

“Brothers?  None that he sends christmas cards to, certainly, but I can assure you, Loren, that both he and I have the same parents.  There was a bit of a spat befor eyou were born.  We havn’t spoken to one another since.  I came today with an olive branch, but he still isn’t ready to make up.

 

“What happened?”

 

“Not my place to say, Loren, really, you should ask your dad to tell you.  He owes it to you.  But, hey, that isn’t the thing thats causing you to be all tearful.  he was right, my eyes had started to water again.

 

“The wind” I said.  It was a humid, breezeless day.  As lies go, this wasn’t my finest moment.

 

“Yes.  Indeed.” He handed me a handkerchief.  “If you want to talk about it.”

 

“Its hard.  Thats all.  I don’t know anything about where I am or who I am any more.  My parents are keeping things secret from me and I’ve got to start at a new school.”

 

Mack nodded.  e was incredibly ewasy to talk to.  SOmetimes its easier to tell your innermost secrets to someone you don’t knoe

 

“And I think I’ve just ruined any chance of ever having any friends.”

 

“You know, Loren, this could be the luckiest day of your life”

 

“Hardly.  Do you know what I’ve just done.  I’ll be an outcast from day one.  Even chess club members will spit on me”

 

“Quite the contrary.  By all accounts you are a bright girl.  Top of your class, never had a ‘could do better’ on your report card?”

 

I nodded

 

“Well, being popular is just a matter of mind games, and you have the advantage of having a mind.  Think about it, Your aunt Gladys, she does well because she has the gift of the gab, but put her on the spot and she wouldn’t be able to think her way out.  Your dad, now he was always a brigt spark, but never figured out that you can program people just like he can program his computers.  I on the other hand applied myself to the situation I found myself in, and came out on top.  Thats the real reason why your dad and I couldn’t get on, he was jealous of me.  Still is by the look of things.”

 

“So what do I do”

 

“Well, normally I would teach you myself, but I think if your dad caught you talking to me, you would be grounded until your eighteenth birthday – which wouldn’t help you at all.  But as I said, the stars are shining on you toay, because I happen to have another way of showing you what to do.”

 

Mack put his briefcase on the wall beside me. and flicked it open.  Amongst the papers was a small hardbacked book.  He handed it to me

 

“My book.  Everything you need to know.  And my card” – he handed me a business card.

 

Mack Grossman, the card read, Author, Businessman, Teacher.  Then it listed his pone number and email address.

 

” If there is anything else you need to know, just shout.  Look, I had better skidaddle.  Buck up, you’re going to be a star before you know it”

 

He vaulted over the wall, snapped his briefcase shut and strode up the road.  MAch turned around and blew me a kiss.  I looked down at the book.  It was smalled tan a paperback and thin, with a hard black cover.  On the fonrt in gold lettering were the words

 

 

The Principles

 

 

A Primer For Young Ladies in Less Civilized Times

 

 

By M Grossman.

 

 

I rushed inside and up to my, that is the say Julia’s, room and opened it up.

 

 

Chapter 8 – The prologue

 

 

You have good taste.  You may not know it yet, but you do.  How do i know this?  Well, you’re reading this book, and as far as I am concerned, that shows you’ve a lot more taste in books than the majority of the population.  It also shows that you are smart.  Being smarter than the rest of the world isn’t hard, it just involved having the ability to tell the difference between soap operas and the real world.  If you can do that, all well and good, you’re on your way to world domination already (I can think of certain presidents of the united states of america who would have trouble with that one), if you can’t I’ll show you a simple trick, run up to the next person you see and say

 

“I’m pregnant with my brothers baby”

 

If theme music starts playing, or you cut to an advert, your a character in a soap opera.  If people just look at you strangely, then you are in control of your own life and noone can stop you from succeeding.

 

 

All you have to do is use your smarts.  Just like you can learn maths or history from a textbook, social success can also be yours.  All you have to do is master a few simple steps, which I call “The Principles”  In the next few pages I will show you how you, yes you, can make friends, work your way up social ierachies and stop anyone from pulling you down.  How you can set your eyes on one man and beat off all competition, crushing them into the dust.  And ponce you have that man, what do you do?  If you’re absolutely happy, you can stop their.  If not, well trading up is still a possibility.  its your choice – everything from now on will be your choice.  No longer will you feel constrined by other people’s views, you’ll realise they are just trying to keep their own humdrum lives from becoming as cool and exciting as yourws will be.  Why do they do that?  For the same reason they watch daytime TV – because smart people like me – and soon you – have got them to lower their expectations to make it even easier for us to rise to the top like the cream we are.

 

 

So, you’re thinking, this all sounds a bit greedy, a bit self interested.  Well I’ve got news for you.  If you don’t take you own interests to heart, aint noone else going to do it for you girlfirend (I confess, I got that phrase off daytime TV, hey, I was tired, there was nothing else on, know they enemy and all that – it was better than the Love boat rerun on the other channel)

 

You see, when it comes down to it, how you behave is being judged by other people all the time.  If you are a sucess socially you are judged as having behaved well (after all, noone would befriend someone who behaved badly), but this doesn’t mean people who behave well are socially successfull – quite the opposite, they are seen as goodie-goodies and trampled upon.  What you need is to be perceived as behaving well – quite a different thing.  And the good thing about this is noone other than you will be any the wiser.  So – what is the solution… well, frankly if i told you tat now, there wouldn’t be any point in writing the rest of the book, and I’m not going to mak emomey by selling a load of blank pages, so you’re not getting it that easily.  What you do need to do, however is make everyone believe you  are acting in their best interests, or at least everyone that matters.

 

 

So, where from here.  You have a choice:  if you want to carry on, worrying from day to day about what other people think of you, they hey, its a free world, and I’ll thank you for making my life easier when I’m looking for a convenient towel girl to wipe my hands on.  If you want to tell others what to think, and make them suffer if they don’t live up to your expectations, then you, girl, should carry on reading.  You’ve already got what it takes, and you’ve shown that you can successfully read my writing without too much trouble (which practicly makes you MENSA material in ond of itself), so what ar eyou wainting for?  For me to stop talking?  You’;re wrong, take your destiny into your own hands and turn over to the next chapter before i tell you its OK.  You are now in control.

 

 

Hugs

 

 

Mack Grossman

 

 

P.S. Still reading?  Good, you didn’t do what I told you to – way to spt the double bluff, but frankly I can’t write prologues for ever, so hold on, its going to be a wild ride.

 

 

Chapter 9 A question of spite

 

 

Well, it was differnet, I had to admit that.  A textbook for social success.  I flicked to the back to see if there was an answer section.  There was, of sorts, it read

 

 

ANSWERS:

 

 

1) No there arn’t any easy answers, but well done for coming here.  Its the sort of approach you need.

 

 

I wasn’t sure that I wanted a book that encouraged cheating, but then, socialising has always been a game where noone has explained the rules – maybe I have to cheat to get onto an even level with the oh-so-perfect julia and the her hoard of hyenas.  I looked at my watch, apparently while I had been reading the book ours had passed – I had been so immersed, reading the text, trying to argue with it, then finding that Mack had preempted my arguments that I had totally lost track of time, just like Julia did when listening to her diskman.  In fact she would be coming home soon.  I thought me best bet would be to try to laugh off the whole incident.  I went across the landing to the bathroom, to wash my face and do my hair.  After a few minutes I was presentable, which was lcuky, beacuse on leavig the bathrom I heard Julia’s key turning in the lock of the front door.  and ten her footsteps coming up the stairs.

 

 

“Oh there you are, we were worried sick”, Julia began laying into me “where did you get to?”

 

“I… I… I got lost, couldn’t figure out where I was, or how to find you.  In the end I just got myself out of the Mall and found my way home. Sorry”

 

“we looked all over for you.  You missed a lot.  We ribbed toni so much”

 

I laughed.  It was a false laugh.  My drama teacher would have never let me get away with it, but if Julia had fallen for my getting lost story, I could probably have told her that I had been abducted by aliens and not have been sussed.

 

“well, come on, we;ve got lots to talk about” Julia hurried me into her… our room ans shut the door conspitorially behind us.  Sit down, sit down.

 

I sat on my bed, noticing ‘The Principles’ lying on my pillow, I thought it best if I knocked it onto the floor, where Julia wouldn’t otice it.  The one thing worse than being a social outcast was being a geeky social outcast with a book about self improvement.

 

“So…” Julia said “Antonio, Carrie and Sam are going to be coming over tonight to watch videos”

 

“Antonio?”

 

“You’re not still embarassed about that are you?  Gawd, Toni know’s he’s a bit of a looker, you don’t want to give him too much of an ego boost, we’ll never hear the end of it.  Anyway, I reckon he thought you were cute”

 

“Never”

 

“well, he asked who you were”

 

“I’d just predicted our martial bliss”

 

“Whatever, he noticed you exist, it took Carrie weeks to get his attention.”

 

“Are carrie and antonio?”

 

“An item?  Sorta, I s’pose, you never know.  Its not like its serious.  Not like you and Toni”

 

She grinned.  What I wanted to do was puch that smug, oh so perfect dental work out of existence.  What I actually di was give er a vague smile

 

“Thats the way to go, Loren.  Anyway it’ll be a good night, I rented ‘the runaway bride’”

 

Ah.  So that was it.  I thought Julia was just self obsessed.  turns out shes evil and sadistic.  Something had to be done and fast.  I waited until she had gone downstairs to clear borrowing the video with aunt Gladys, then I picked up ‘The Principles’ and rushed to the bathroom for some guidance

 

 

Chapter 10 First Things First

 

 

Principle 1 : Know Thyself (but don’t go blind…)

 

 

Self delusion, its a powerful drug.  We all delude ourselves aboiut who we are.  Well, everyone except me.  I know I’m perfect in every way, its a curse sometimes, but on the bright side it means I have great teeth.  If you are looking to succeed socially you need to figure out precisely which of the following categories you currently fall in.  The way I see it there are several places in the school social rankings

 

 

Outsider : You have no friends.  I presume this bothers you, otherwise you’ve wasted an awful lot of time reading this book.  This might look like a difficult situation to win from, but you actually have a lot of advantaged.  Noone knows exactly who you are – the screaming hordes share every little secret, point out every extra pound they’ve gaine, whereas you have an innate mystery about you.  Now you’ve got to exploit it.  It isn’t goint to be easy, but that’s what mack is here to helpt you with.  You also probably don’t like the beautiful people who perade their popularity infront of you.  This is your key advantage.

 

 

Straggler : You arn’t one of the beautiful people, but you fall in the mainstream.  You might not get the respect from the inner core that you think you deserve, but aat least they don’t cut you entirely from their lives.  This may be the trickiest situation to be in: outsiders have nothing to lose, stragglers often place a lot of importance on their relatively minor positions : its a lot like how your school secreatry or caretaker can be more of a jobsworth than the teachers or headmaster – they have their domain to protect, and don’t plan on letting nayone get away with it.  The good news is, that, by now you sould realise that you don’t have anything to lose – if you let youself stay where you are then you’ve already lost.  You have all the tools to get to the top of the ladder, and you have the advantage that the key people will listen to what you have to say (even if they laug at you anyway)

 

 

The Inner Circle :  You probably think you have already made it, after all everyone wants to be your friend because you are friends with the lyncpin of the school social scene.  You go to all the good parties, you have your choice of the boys.  So why are you reading this?  Are you worried that it won’t last.  If you’re not, then your stupid.  Your entire social life depends upon the goodwill of one person, and there are hundreds of people who are jelous of you, who would do anything to be you, who might be reading this book.  If you stay where you are, your name could be mud within hours – and don’t think all those people who suck up to you will catch you on your fall: they are the people who hate you the most.

 

 

The Cool Clique:  You’re not one of the mainstream kids, your that group who have found their own way, a more radical and less dull way than listening to bubblegum pop and talking about good looking blond haired himbos called Corey.  Your clique is cool.  Fine, belive tat, everyone makes fun of you, question wheter you ever wash your hair and belive you and your trechcoat mafia will oneday go on a shooting spree (in fact, if anyone from the mainstream clique does try to befriend you, they’re probably only doing it to ensure they get spared when you do finally turn psycho).  There are two paths to success, you can either work your way into the mainstream clique, or you can try to change your clique so that it becomes the mainstream.  Both ways are plausible, both will require to realise that you and your friends are the only people wo think you’re cool.  Oh, and by the way, you’re wrong.

 

 

The Brains: Smart kids flock together.  Some people have a gene which makes them prefer chess to football.  Its a free world.  We should expect smart kids to be our rulers, after all they understand the deeper mysteries of double physics, and  probably have a fair idea of why anyone might want to use geometry (I found this out once, apparently its so that you can build pyramids, if you ever happen to be a space alien in ancient egypt… if you’re a space alien in the modern world, you just need a big cornfield and an oversized spirograph), so why is it we use them as a mechanism to get our homework done and extra lunch money?  The answer is that there arn’t any textbooks on social smarts.  Except for this one.  Well done, you’re on your way to success, but you’ve got to convince people to change their minds about you – and that might mean changing your mind about yourself.

 

 

So have you identified yourself?  No?  Well go back and figure out who or what you are.  You fit into one of these categories, be truthful about which one.  Right.  Now we are going to start working to change this.  The only way to becoming top of the school party food chain is straight through the middle – you can’t afford to have any personality oter than that exposed in teen magazines.  This isn’t hard, think about it, how many people know what you really think, who you really are.  Do your parents have even the faintest idea of the real you?  If you’re going to lie to people about who who are, it might as well be a lie that makes you life easier.  So what you have to do is think about being a new you.  Make sure you have some friends in the mainstream clique – it may be some of the stragglers will appreciate any friends, after all, they’re only bottom feeders looking for whatever scraps of friendship they’re offered.  They are your entrance ticket to a better life.  Do whatever you need.

 

 

Chapter 11

 

 

I hid ‘the Principles’ under my pillow.  What the hell, I thought,  it’s not like I’ve got anything to lose – I’m already a freak

 

there isn’t anything I can do that will lower my chances of getting on at school – I’d give it a go and put principle one into action, to see where it got me.  Right, well, it was pretty well obvious I was an outsider, noone knows how I feel about anything, and its not like Julia has even noticed that I’m like the complete opposite of her.  What could I do to stop anyone noticing.  I picked up one of Julia’s magazines and flicked idly through.  I laughed to myself, it was all a bit easy, noone publishes magazines on how to be an individual, but how to be an identikit fashion victim clone, magazines about them were all over the place.  “Fifty ways to breath life into your hair”, fifty photos as it turned out, clearly girls don’t get taught to read before they reach ‘sixteen years’, but it was a start: anything would be better than the current limp straggly mess which I kept tied back to avoid having to worry about it.  So I started flicking through the pictures, and after a while spotted something I thought I could pull off.

 

 

As for clothes, well, I was a bit limited by the size of my suitcase, and I tended towards the comfortable, jeans, t-shirts, things that went with everything.  Oh well, there was one skirt (not that i was sure I should show off my legs, but Kim seemed to get away with it) and I had a pink shirt that showed my navel that Mom bought me a month ago, it wasn’t like I could have gotten away without taking that.  It seemed Mothers did have their uses, even if their use was limited to buying clothes that only the new me would wear.  This would do, I was sure Julia would jump at the chance to go shopping with me later to increase the size of my wardrobe – there would probably nothing that would make mom happier than asking for money to get myself something ‘decent’ to wear.  When Julia came back into the rom I was dressed up, as the new me, move over princess Julia, the regin of queen loren was beginning!

 

 

“Looooren”, Julia screamed, her voice had risen by an octave.  “I love what yooou’ve done to your hair”.  She wa spractically clapping her hands and jumping up and down with excitement.

 

“I fancied a change”

 

“You fancy antonio”

 

I laughed.  Inside I was screaming and blushing and wanting to run, but the principles said I had to be the perfect little bland mainstream girl.

 

“Well, look, Julia, tell me something about the people who are coming tonight, so I know who i’m ealing with”

 

“You’ve met them, toni, carrie and sam”

 

“Yeah, but I don’t knooow them”.  I stressed the ‘o’ sound, and I hated myself for doing it, but I kept the fixed perky smile on my face.  Whatever, it did the trick.”

 

“Right, sit down, the gos…”  Julia sat on my bed and motioned for me to join her.  She swiveled her body so we faced each other and began to whisper conspiritorially.  Which made no sense, seing as how we were alone in our house, and Gladys probably couldn’t be bothered differentiating between Julia’s interchangable friends.

 

“Well, I’ve told you that Carrie and Toni are on the verge of breaking up?  Well, it going to happen and, to be honest, I don’t think Toni’s that bothere.  Carrie has been like my friend for years and years, but she’s just not quite as cool to hang around with.  And then theres her brother”

 

“Sam?”

 

“Yeah.  I don’t really know him, you know the sort, hes like there, in classes at school, but hes got other friends.  Still he doesn’t cause any major problems, but hes a bit quiet, not really all that much fun.”

 

“So why’s he coming around then?”

 

“He’s Carrie’s twin brother, I couldn’t like not invite him, he was right there at the shopping center”

 

“so… Antonio…”

 

Julia’s eyes opened wide and she moved her face closer to mine.  I mimiked her, it seemed the right thing to do.

 

“Well, he knows that he’s gorgeous, but is reall thing is his art.  I don’t think Carrie gets that, he’s always on at her to go with him to exhibitions, but she likes to hang with us.  If you want to get to antonio, tats te way.  That and his mama.”

 

“His mama?”

 

“Toni comes from a big itallian family, wouldn’t ever do anything that his mama didn’t like”

 

“So how do I get into her good books?”

 

“No idea… but carrie might know”.  Julia fell into a fit of giggles.  I joined her.  We laughed for a few minutes

 

“You said Sam and carrie were twins, they don’t look alike”

 

“Well, not identical twins.  But you look carefully and you’ll see a lot of similarities”

 

I nodded sagely, letting Julia think she had taght me something about twins.  It was quite a shock, being a fatuous ninny was actually quite easy – almost fun.

 

 

Chapter 12

 

 

Evening came, and so id Julia’s friends.  Cari and Sam arrived cluching vast quantities of popcorn and pringles.  Julia led them to our room where se ad arranged the video under her television set.  Aunt gladys had tried to insist that we use the television in the living room, but Julia had argued that my Mom and Dad would want to use it.  In fact julia wanted the privacy of her room.  She wasn’t quite as dumb as I had given her credit for.

 

 

The next time te doorbell rang, I jumped up.  I was just being polite, elpful, but it didn’t come across like that.  Carrie scowled, but Julia wistled, which made Carrie turn and scowl at her.  At te door stood Antonio, he we tall and silloetted agains t th elow eveining sun.  There was just a little growth of hair on is tanned dark skin.  I must have stared too long because he looked carefully into my eyes and said

 

“Loren… it is Loren isn’t it?  Are you alright”

 

alright, I was better than alright, I was looking at antonio.  mysterious. artistic, loving and caring antonio, and he was looking at me.  And so were Julia and Carrie who, apparently had followed me downstairs.  I blushed.  Sometimes there isno way to ide it, I mean if there was bluching wouldn’t be as important, as embarassing, would it?

 

“Hey guys” antonio shouted and threw a large bottle of Coke at Julia, who totally failed to catvch it and let it fall to the ground.  We tensed as it fizzed.

 

“You are going to open that antonio”. Julia pronounced each sylabble of antonio’s name seperatly like a chiding moter.

 

Antonio smiled, and looked at me in appeal before walking up the stairs.  My eyes lingered on his ass.  I think Carries eyes lingered on my eyes, but I didn’t care.  Antonio was going to be mine, there was nothing carrie could do about it.

 

 

Carrie and I followed Julia to her room, Sam tagged behind.  I looked at him slightly quizically and Carrie looked me in the eye sligtly dissaprovingly.  julia had pulled our beds out to make a makeshift couch, she dimmed her lights and turned on the TV.  “Its a Julia Roberts, she announced”

 

Sam looked down in disappointment, I realised his head had been pointed directly towards julia, as if her were carfully studying her.  Antonipo let out a more dramatic groan

 

“I thought we were going to be watching something good”, but nevertheless he settled down to watch.  he didn’t make any move to place his arm around Carrie.  I smiled at him, he grinned back.

 

 

After about half way through, Julia paused the video.  I hadn’t been keeping track of what was going on, I was more interested in studying Antonio’s reactions.  He wasn’t hugely impressed, but it certainly was affecting him slightly – he had smilled and laughed at appropriate points.  Carrie had been glued to the film, ignoring poor antonio totally, no wonder he was feeling undervalued in his relationship.  Sam was always looking slightly in the direction of Julia, I was beginning to get an idea about what was going on with him, and who knows, I might be able to use it to my advantage

 

“Carrie?” I asked, “Can you help me getting some more drinks”

 

“Yeah sure.”

 

 

we left Julia’s room and walked downstairs.  I didn’t wait long before starting the interrogation

 

 

“So, Carrie, whats up with Sam?”

 

“Ah, you noticed too.  I thought you were more interested in toni”

 

“Carrie, no!”  I feigned shock.  She accused me of bveing interested in antonio?  That couldn’t possibly be! “He’s your boyfriend, i would never even consider someting like that.”

 

She eased up.  I suppose when a girl starts professing a desire to marry your boyfriend you tend to be a bit stressed around them.

 

“So, I urged, tell me whats up”

 

“Well, I’m his sister, he never tells me anything, but”

 

I drew closer, like julia had drawn towardss me earlier

 

“Well, after seeing him at the shopping center, his insistance on comming tonight and the way hes acting, I tink out sam as a bit of a crush.”

 

“Yeah.  Me too.”

 

It was perfect.  Sam was a straggler, sure, but he would be an easy taarget to befriend, and if he had a crush on Julia and a friend in her inner circle, it was a great way of keeping me in the group.  Seducing antonio could wait for later (I wondered if their was a chapter entitled “principle seven : getting gorgeous italians eating out of your hand”), right now I had to get my foot in the door.  I filled five tall glasses with ice and lemonade and carried two up the stairs, while Carrie managed the oter three.  I handed one of my glassed to Sam and sat myself down beside him

 

“Good film?” I asked

 

“I didn’t think I would enjoy it,but I keep noticing my mouth laughing, so I suppose I am”

 

I laughed, and julia started up the video again.

 

 

Chapter 13

 

 

I had to go shopping if I didn’t want to keep turning up wearing the same t-shirt and skirt.  Julia, however, was too busy to join me – apparently she had left all her homework until the last minute, and school was starting up again next week.  School, the thought made me shudder.  I had to have started my play before then, I couldn’t be around these people for seven hours a day without giving myself away if they hadn’t already fallen for my charade.  The charade.  Right.  Shopping.  I’ve never really enjoyed shopping.  I know I shouldn’t say that sort of thing, they would probably take away my rigt to call myself a teenage girl if they heard me.  But really, whats the point?  Clothes always look different under the brigt lights of a shop and just when you have had a good look and come up with some idea of what you want, a shrill assistant jumps out and asks if you need any help.  Them?  Help me?  Like I want to end up with clothing advice from people that arn’t trusted by their own shop’s managment to make fashion decisions.  Although the more I think about it, we’re talking shrill girls who work in clothes shops – they probably know exactly what Julia and er cronies would want.  Hmmm.  I can’t belive I did what I did next

 

“Can I help you?”

 

“Yes”

 

I felt so dirty.  You probably don’t want to hear about the process of my choosing a new wardrobe.  You might find it mun to imagine a montage of scenes where I hold up clothes to mirrors while te assistant nods and shakes her head, and perhaps a few scenes showing my coming out of the changing rooms in weird and wonderful costumes, while all the while an upbeat piece of poppy music plays in the background.  By all means do so, my life isn’t actually like a hollywood film, but it can’t hurt to let you think it is.  However my shopping trip went, I left exhausted, somewhat worried about the amount of Mom’s meny I had blown on things that, if all this didn’t work, I wouldn’t be seen dead in and carrying several rather full plastic bags.  I stopped for a coffee and planned my next maneuver.

 

 

The target was Sam.  We seemed to get along well enough last night.  He was even funny in an odd sort of a way.  Now I needed an excuse to make friends with him properly.  Everything I thought of doing seemed so false, so calculated.  Now, there was a good reason for that – it was all phoney and calculated but I was sure there must be a good reason to get to know him better.  What did I know about him?  Surprisingly little.  He was Carrie’s brother, he was good at school (which is pretty much social suicide if you’re not someonle like rachel), and of course he had a crush on Julia (I was pretty certain of that one).  It was no good, it wasn’t like I could set him up on a date – Julia would never consider spending her time with a lesser moral like Sam, not where there were boys like Antonio for her to pick ad choose from, no it had to involve me.  Why would Sam want to spend time with me?  It would bring him closer to Julia, especially if it involved comming to my house.  That was a good start.  But how could I lure him there?  Julia, Carrie, School.  School!  Of cousrse, hear I was, a poor ignorent american with no idea of the school work I should be ready to do.  Of course, if i cared, I could look at Julia’s books and start working from there,  but if I were to invite Sam over to work with me…  He wouldn’t refuse, especially if he thought Julia was going to be around.  My deviousnes astounded even me, wo would have thought that sweet little new england girl had it in her?

 

 

I gave Sam a ring and, before he had a chance to think about it, convinced him to come over this evening and go through what I would need to know about for history lessons.  TO be fair, he didn’t take much convincing, he practically jumpped at te chance to be in the same house as Julia.  Who could blame him?  he was only attempting the same sort of trick as me, only witout the benefit of a guide.  A guide which I turned towards for further inspiration!

 

 

Chapter 14

 

 

Principle 2 : Befriend the unpopular, undermine the others.

 

 

You’ve read the title of this section (or at least I assume you have… its possible you just read random chucnks of tect without applying any context, but just as you should be taking a wholistic approach to your life, keeping eachg and every aspect of it under control, you choul take a wholistic attitude to this book too.  Every word is as important as the last, if you miss even one word – even one syllable of one word, you could be dooming yourself to life as the kid that the special ed kids laugh at.  The power I wield to fulfil my own sense of self importance).  HAving read the title you know what to do.  Of course it isn’t sensible to let anyone know what you’re doing.  You don’t want to stand on the roof of a building and point out each and every flaw the beautiful people have, you just want to position yourself.

 

So, were should you stand?

 

 

Well, you want to make the unpopular tink they are going to grow in social status through being your friends.  These are people used to being used, so you’re going to have to deliver on your promises.  When their are parites, make sure they get invites. When you go out – whereever you’re going make sure they get to come along – but also make sure your cooler firends are there too.  The one thing you don’t want to do is make you’re sad and loney firends think you are dumping them as you make your grasp for to top of the pile.  Bring them some of the way with you, and you’ll have everlaasting grattitude from the people who form the foundations of your popularity.

 

 

Now, here is the secret to popularity:  Popularity isn’t anything to do with

 

how cool you are, what you wear or what you listen to.  It is one thing and one thing only- how amy people want to be around you.  Its a numbers game, by definition.  Now, having cool firends makes other pople valuer your friendship more, which in turns makes making more friends easier, but this is only one method, and its one that relies on dangerous grounds: your propularity with eveyone depends upon you being liked by your initial contact.  If your cool friend tires of your company, then you’ve lost that cache which made you oh so likeable.  You’ll fall to earth with a bump, and there iwll be noone around to catch you.  If, on the other hand you base your popularity on having a good number of less cool friends, if one finds a new idol to hand with, well hey, the rest will still be there.  Its logic.

 

 

So, what about those people who are more popular than you?  Again, you have to ask yourself, who is it they are popular with.  Damn right!  Your new friends.  Even better, they don’t realise this, they see themselves as being somehow special and distinct from this hoi-poloi.  Yeah right.  Now they have nothing that you don’t have, you can begin masterminding their fall from grace.  In this I must pass on precisely two rules:

 

 

Do not rely on the support of anyone more popular than you.  Youve go to do this yourself.  On your own merits.  With my help.

 

 

Give credit where its due: help those who are less popular than you,  Bring them into your inner circle.  They’ll enjoy the rise in social status and they will be loyal.

 

 

Use this wisdom wisely friend.  And if you can’t be wise, at least have fun!

 

 

Chapter 15

 

 

“Mum”

 

“No”

 

“Dad?”

 

“don’t you go asking your dad.”

 

“Your Mum said no”

 

“But”

 

“But me no buts young lady”  mum turned her head away from me.  Her decision was final.  ‘but me no buts?’  What does that mean.  It doesn’t even begin to make sense.  The mysteries of parents.  One day Mom will realise that the television isn’t a radio and she’ll start to watch her favourite programme rather than listening to it.  This is the difference between Mon and aunt Gladys.  Both are mad and obsessive, but at least Aunt Gladys doesn’t impose herself on you.  Sure Aunt Gladys can be overbearing, but she is right that if you ignore her, pay her no notice, she really doesn’t get in the way.  Mom on the other hand makes me hot chocolate and stanbds over me while I drink it, or moves me to another continent or insists we spend some family time together.  Tonight.  Whe Sam was due.

 

“Sam was going to come and go through my History work with me”

 

“Sam?” dad asked

 

“Sam from last night sam”

 

“I don’t think I met sam from last night sam,.  Would this be a femal Sam or a male sam?”

 

“i don’t see what that has to do with”

 

“So by history, what you actually mean is biology”

 

“Dad!” I was shocked.  Parents shouldn’t know about that sort of thing… well actually its pretty fundamental that they do know about that sort of thing, I suppose, but they shouldn’t demonstrate it

 

“i do not fancy Sam” I shouted.  Which was precisely the moment Julia chose to come through the front door.

 

“You were sitting close to him last night” Julia chimed in.  Lets play taunt the looser.  20 extra points to whoever can make her walk off in a huff.

 

“That was because of carrie”

 

“You didn’t want her to see you looking at antonio”

 

“So Sam has competition” dad smiled at me and winked.  I suppose it was pretty funny, for dad.

 

“And you were worried about making friends”

 

“No I wasn’t” I almost shouted, to avoid julia guessing how pathetic I really was

 

“Well…”  Mum looked at dad.  Dad nodded… “Oh, OK, we’ll do the family thing another day”

 

Phew.  Making me blow off Sam could have seriously upset my plans.  I left the room with Julia, who probably wanted to taunt me further, but as I was leaving I caught a bit of te ushed conversation

 

“Maybe its for the best” Mum said

 

“She deserves to know.  Its not like we have any choice”

 

“he said he didn’t tell her”

 

“He’s said a lot of things.  You choose now to start beliving him?2

 

“good point, well made”

 

 

I turned around, Sarah was rummaging in the freezer.  She brought out ice cream.  I shook my head – do you know how many calories there are in a scoop of ice cream – even the vegetable fat stuff which deserves to be called less cream than corn that tey serve in the UK.  She ignored me, scooped out a large ball into a bowl and slid it over the table towards me.  I aquiesced.

 

 

“So” Julia asked “sam?”

 

“Just to help with History”

 

“you can’t con me with that.  Te-e-ell me”

 

“Look, I’m not interested in Sam.  And even if I was.  Which I’m Not.  He isn’t interested in me?”

 

“Sam fancies someone else then?”

 

“i think so”

 

“Who”

 

“I can’t say”

 

“rachel? Harriet?”

 

“No. None of them”

 

“Oh he doesn’t.”

 

“Doesn’t what”

 

“Me?”

 

I shut my eyes.  She had guessed.  Was I that obvious?

 

“Oh my god.  not Sam.  Urghh.  Thats…  You mustn’t tell anyone about this.”

 

“I won’t”

 

“Noone”

 

“I promise.”

 

“What’s wrong with Sam”

 

“You really havn’t talked to him much have you.  He’s a total loon.  He keeps saying the weirest things – the other day I heard him telling his friends how he had learned to count in roman numerals where he rplaced every V and I with the word dave”

 

“What?”

 

“Dave.  dave Dave.  Dave Dave Dave.  Dave Dave.  Dave.  dave dave. Dave Dave dave.  dave dave dave dave. Dave X. X. X Dave. X Dave Dave.”

 

“Stop.” I laughed “You’re mad.”

 

“No.  Sam is mad.  I was just reporting what he said”

 

but she knew how to count in roman numerals and Daves.  Wich, granted, is not one of those tings I would have guessed Julia knew, just by looking at her.

 

“Look, whatever you do, just don’t leave me alone wit Dave… I mean Sam… tonight” she pleeded

 

“I’ll protect you from the nasty Sam and his army of Daves”

 

Now it was julia’s turn to laugh.

 

 

Chapter 16

 

 

I had managed to make a bit of the room my own.  Cleared a space on Julia’s dresser to use as a desk, put a poster up – a dali print, rather than whatever grunge soo-rebellious-yet-strangely-signed-to-a-major-label band Julia wanted to align herself with (‘Heartache’ apparently – if you look carefully at the pictutre you can see that the lead singer, with his long wild hair and tattered clothes had perfectly manecured fingernails).  I had a few moments to flick through Julia’s history text book.  “Social and Economic history in the eighteenths and nineteenth century”.  It sounded dull. It looked dull.  Black and white pen-and-ink cartoons with unintelligable captions leapt out at me, along with words like “The agrarian revolution” and “hore hoeing husbandry”.  I thought about back home – we were going to be study renecience history this term, the itallian city states fighting one another.  Borgia, Medici.  So fascinating and romantic, just like Antonio, nothing at all like “Sir humphrey Davies”, who, I noted invented a safty lamp for miners.  Not so much history as a bunch of trivia which happened.

 

 

By the time Sam arrived I was feeling both bored and totally stupid.  It was a bit of light relief to talk to him rather than think about the work we were meant to be discussing.

 

 

“So this is you’re room.  It doesn’t look much like the sort of room you would have?”

 

“You were here last night!  I share it with julia.  Its her room really”

 

“That was here?  I didn’t notice, I just followed you. I’d switched my mind off to avoid paying attention to julia Roberts”

 

“You did what?”

 

“switched my mind off.  Tv helps.  its so weasy to ignore things you don’t want to see”

 

“I still don’t get it.  What are you on?”

 

“Well, I spend so much of my time thinking that sometimes I want to stop.  Normally I don’t, I isect anything I come across.  Its really frightening, have you ever trised aprising the poetry in a birthday card critically?”

 

“Err no”.  There was something about sam that was frightening, but I wanted to hear more.  It was like he lkived in a whole different world.  calling him mad was wrong, just a bit out of phase with our idea… well Julia’s idea of sanity.

 

“Someone once told me that what made something high quality wasn’t the fact it was any good, or particularly clever, it was the fact it did the thinking for you – gave you the whole unadulterated picture ready formed without requiring any effort on your part. “

 

“Sorry, you’vce totally lost me now”

 

“Well, when you see a julia Roberts film, they’;re like that.  You know, you can predict the plot from the outset – two guys one woman who has to choose between them… theres the one she fancies and the one that suits her.  In the end she realised the second onbe is best and everyone is happy.”

 

And then it hit me.  Sam noyt only wanted to go out wit Julia, he was convinced  he was destined to end up wit her.  What had I let myself in for?  Helping him was obviously what uncle MAck suggested, but it was going to be a losing battle.

 

“So anyway,” Sam continued, “we you know what s going to happen, you don’t really need to watch ythe story, you can just let go and drift wherever it takes you.  Its like meditation, only with richard gere as the object not the subject.”

 

“You what?”

 

“Ricard gere… hes budhist and likes to meditate, but he was in that film last night and so…”

 

“Ah.  Right, sorry, I think I’ve turned my mind off”.  WHich was a lie, my mind was elsewhere.  I was trying to figure out how to get Sam and Julia together.  WIthout either of them noticing i was doing it.  And with Antonio falling for me in the process.  It was going to be tricky.

 

“so History,” Sam was gabbling.  “the corn laws.  Corn prices were kept artificially high which encouraged farming.   The reason they were high in the first place was the napolionic wars, of course we’re not allowed to know the wars ever appnened because they were interesting and so cunningly hsaave been cut away from the syllabus”

 

“Is there anything good?”

 

“A politician gets run over by a train next term.  And they’ll probably throw in some grissly details about medicen.  History teachers seem to like that sort of thing”

 

“So nothing good then?”

 

“No.”

 

“We ad a war of independence and the wild west during that period.”

 

“I think british history stopped at about the end of the seventeenth century.  More or less everything after that is just current afairs”

 

I nodded sagely.  I’m sam world what sam was saying probably made sense, and sam world seemed like a very nice place to live, all told.  Better than here, anyhow.

 

“A poletician run over by a train you say?”

 

“Marmaduke Huskisson.  Never did anything interesting except for that.  it was the first run of the stockton and darlington railway.”

 

“And this comes up next term”

 

“I read ahead.”

 

“Why”

 

“Social and Economic history is a better cure for insomnia than nyquil”

 

I yawned.  Sam was right.

 

 

Chapter 17

 

 

The answer was, of course, Carrie.  She was the connection, where Antonio, Sam and Julia all met.  But carrrie was also a problem, she didn’t trust me around Toni, despite my protestations – which probably indicated by protestations wern’t as good as I had thought they were.  Luckily I had a way towards her throug Sam.  Sam who had suggested that I visit his house this afternoon.  But there were other concerns:  I couldn’t build my empire on Sam alone – there had to be others, and that meanbt more time with Julia and her friends.  I could live with that, hang with them and turn my mind off like Sam did during the video.  And I still had my parents to contend with:  What did they mean by “she deserves to know”?  they certainly

 

didn’t think I derserved to know that much – they didn’t actually tell me what it was I deserved to know, after all.

 

 

I picked up the phone.  I place the phone down again.  Could i really call her?  Would Carrie want to talk to me?  surely she wouldn’t suspect I had ulterior motives, not if I suggested we did something, someting which didn’t involve Antonio?  But it didn’t feel right…  I stared at the phone, wondering what to do.  it was stupid, the worst she could do was say no, blow me off – she would have to be polite too.  It wouldn’t be bad.  but I kept running the conversation over in my head.  it always went the same way

 

 

“Hi, Can I speak to Carrie please”

 

“Speaking”

 

“Hi Carrie, its loren.”

 

“Loren?”

 

“Julia’s cousin Loren.”

 

“Oh, julia has a cousin.  that must ave been the irriatating distraction that kept me from enjoying the film the other day2

 

“I was wondering”

 

“I’m not really that interested in wat you were doing.  you’re keeping me from watching MTV, be quick.”

 

“Do you want to hang out at  the Mall?”

 

“But wouldn’t that involve me being seen in public with the deceiptful hellbitch intent on stealing my boyfriend despite the fact he would never even consider lowing himself to your sub human level?”

 

“Oh, alrigt, bye then.”

 

 

Now, technically, I knew it owuldn’t be that bad.  Realisticially.  But that didn’t make it harder.  I stared at the phone, willing it to become sentinet and make te call for me.  i could feel my forehead growing red and hot as I became more and more nervous. Go on phone make that call, make it make it…

 

 

The phone rang.

 

 

Wich shocked me a little.  well, a lot.  At least I knew tat jumping to the hight I managed, I would be capable of making the school high jump scene.  Then I rubbed my eyes.  The phone was still ringing.  It was a fluke… it had to be…  there was no way it could possibly be…  I picked up the receiver

 

 

“Hello”

 

And then I heard the voice

 

“Hello, Julia”.  rich, exotic, itallian.  Antonio.  Not carrie, but as people go, not a bad second

 

“Hi antonio, it’s Loren”

 

“Ah, Loren.  Cool.  How are you?”

 

Antonio wanted to know how I was.  So manly, yet so considerate

 

“Cool.  you?”.  Cool.  Too right.  Cool as ice.  Miss unflappable

 

“Yeah, yeah.  What’s up”

 

“Not much, I’m, like, making the most of the rest of the vacation”

 

“You going to the end of freedom party?”

 

Not that I knew off.   Noone ad mentioned a party.

 

“probably.”

 

“You want to come with me?”

 

I dropped te phone.  That wasn’t what I expected.  “I’m going with carrie”, that might have been reasonable.  “Can I speak to Juli?” That was pretty much what I had tought was going to be said next but “You want to come wit me?”.  I picked th ehandset up off the floor

 

“sorry” I babbled, “I tripped and… what did you say?”

 

“Do you want to come to the Party with me?”

 

“What about Carrie?”

 

“Carrie and me are over, almost.  And she has to go to her grandmama’s that night”

 

I had to be strong, confident.  I had to take no prisoners.

 

“OK”

 

“Cool.  It’ll be fun.”

 

 

I was going on a date with Antonio.  Now how could i face Carrie.  I made my excuses and put the phone down.  I had to think.  Maybe the principles had something to say.

 

 

Chapter 18

 

 

Principle 3 : betrayal, and other virtues.

 

 

Betrayal…  it rolls off the toung.  A beautiful word which has received so much bad press.  It seems almost noone has anything good to say about betrayal, but really, if it wasn’t for betrayal we would all be living in harmony with birds chirping and flowers growing in the sun.  It would be dull as hell.  Betrayal is the spice which makes life worth living

 

 

Now, you probably don’t like being betrayed – so if you want to carry on living in a  fun and exciting world, its going to have to be you doing the betraying.  Which isn’t as easy as it sounds.  Imagine the situation:

 

 

John:  Could you look after my lunch money?

 

Jane: sure

 

 

later

 

 

John: Can I have my lunch money now?

 

Jane:  Who are you and what is tis lucnh money of which you speak?

 

 

You can be pretty sure John isn’t going to be trusting Jane with any more of his hard earned money.  Jane has made a profit of ten quid, but has lost any number of opportunities – bnecause Jon will tell other people what she has done.

 

 

Now imagine that Jane looks after the money, doesn’t tell anyone John’s guilty bed-wetting secret, covers for John when he is late for History and doesn’t make fun of his choice of a tank-top/sandles  combo.  John trusts her implicitly.  Which is good, because tat means he’ll let her know when he is about his populoar girlfriend’s stange sexual preferences… which is good when you want to embatrass her in front of everyone by drawing attention to her fetish for long toenails, and gain more credibility in the process.

 

 

of course, prelonging the exctasy is good, but there is the question of exactly ow you do it  Tis is what Mack has come to teach you.  There are three steps to any successful betrayal

 

 

Step one: gain the trust.

 

 

It isn’t betrayal if you arn’t already trusted, it is just what we in the self-improvement publising industry call “being a jerk”.  you don’t want to be known for being a jerk – people don’t want to make friends with jerk.  Oddly they do want to make friends with self-confident bitches.  This is because people are stupid.  Luckily they are also stupid enough to trust you without requiring you expend much effort.

 

 

Step two: Prepare the fall

 

 

This is the key.  if you betray someone and they don’t suffer and lose face as a result, you will lose face.  That isn’t good.  You want to claw people down to below your level.  So you need to find a way of making them crumble, in public while you reign in glory.  There are several things which make the fall work in everyone elses eyes (and to be clear, that is all that matters;  its all appearences, how other people judge you.  if everyone judges you as succeeding then you can do whatever you want… if you do the tings you want to do without being judged as a success, people will be limiting you at every turn, shitting on you from above).  First, the fall has to be big – don’t worry about personal gain when preparing hte fall, just make sure they are as discredited as possible.  Second, the fall has to be public – its not good enough discrediting someone in one persons eyes, unless that person is the key to popularity (and in that case, you’ll be riding on their coattails and just as likely to be te subject of a similar fall in the future, so think of a better plan if you want to get to the top).  Third, they mustn’t be able to pick themselves up – they will need other people to help… this is important – if they turn to oter members of the in crowd, who side with you, ten teir fall will be doublly urt.  If they rely on the support of the geeks and freaks, then thats what they will look like in your new friends eyes.

 

 

Step three :  climb up the ruins

 

 

Yea sure, people will notice you pulling them down to your level, but what goo is that if you don’t rise up to fill the vacume.  This sin’t hard, people will be wanting to make sure they arn’t seen as friends of a loser like the person you have just destroyed.  the result – new alliances will be made, the best of the rest will be picked up for the ride, given field promotions so to speak.  And, assuming you havn’t disgraced yourself, will  be the mostr visible, the cream of the dregs.  there is a path to success that you can take, so grab it.  Don’t worry about wat it is you’re asked to do.  if everyone is planning on sticking their heads in ovens and turning them on then so should you!  Peer pressure, succumb to it – its not like you have a life if you don’t!

 

 

Chapter 19

 

 

I call it my poker face.  I would be good at poker if I knew te rules because my face betrayed no emotion when I joined Julia at Carries house that evening.  It had been billed as a girls night in.  If we were younger we would have called it a sleepover, but we were mature sopisticates and such girlish thoughts were far from our mind.  There was one subject of discussion, sex.  It seemed that the brits wern’t quite as uptight as I had been led to belive.  Damn social stereoitypes and their inability to prepare us for every experience we would ever meet in another country.  I blame the media, noone ever did the “you’re so feeble that even english girls will get laid before you do” program, they just made jokes about bad teeth and posh accents.  The simpsons wasn’t even close to accurate.  I was preparing myslef to learn that austrailans wern’t all corse outback huntsmen, but one thing at a time.  At least I knew itallian men wetre exactly as advertised, and judging by Carire’s description, I would be getting to see the merchandise in full.  Which was a nice thought.

 

 

Julia was waving a hand in front of my face

 

“I think we’ve lost her”

 

“I think she’s lost herself with some man”

 

“So, you’ve found youself a bloke already, Loren?”

 

So, perhaps, not quite the worlds best poker face, but still pretty damn impressive – and Carrie didn’t seem to realise it was her man – or if she did, she was being remarkably nice about it

 

“So… ” carrie nudged me “tell us, who is it”

 

I sook my head

 

“No.  No secrets.  Not here.  Secrets drive us apart” Harriet said.  Her voice had a wobble as if that sort of thing really worried her.

 

“Well, there’s only one man I know that she’s interested in” julia shared a sideways glance at Carrie who started laughing

 

“What?” I asked.  I couldn’t see Carrie laughing at my impending romance with Antonio

 

Julia could harld keep her face straight while she blurted out the words

 

“Sam”, then every cracked up around me

 

“Sam?” I screeched, trying desperatly to keep my voice level and failing.  “hardly”

 

“Oh come on. Loren and Sam, sitting in a tree” Rachel teased

 

“F – U – C – K – I – N – G” Kim interjected

 

“Sounds anatomically impossible”

 

“not so.  Carrie ran upstairs, and brought down a copy of ‘Diana’ magazine and pointed to the position of a month

 

“I stand corrected” rachel said.  “Learn something new every day”

 

i just sat tere, glad of te distraction, hoping that the world would swallow me up and free me from the torment of being associated with Sam.  But Mack was right.  It wouldn’t do to tell everyone about Antonio, they had to see me rip her to pieces when I was good and ready.  in the mean time, perhaps there was a way of exploiting this.  Somehow.

 

Carrie and har magazines began holding court, wich held everyone’s attention but mine and Harriet.  We went out to the kitchen in orer to fetch more pringles.  Pringles and girl tak, what more could we ask for

 

“I said no secrets”

 

“Everyting about me is a secret Harriet – wat is there you really know”

 

“I know you don’t fancy Sam”

 

“How?”

 

“Most people don’t look, they just go with what seems fun.  Noone coul have had the expression you had wile thinking baout Sam.”

 

“You’re right there, girl”

 

“Not that sam doesn’t ave an inner beauty”

 

“You don’t?” I began.  iT couldn’t be possible that ariette had a crush on Sam, could it?

 

“Oh no!  I can’t quite see sam on a Triumph”

 

“Triumph?”

 

“A bike.”

 

Ah yes, I nodded.  Harriet the hog freak.  It would never quite mesh with me.  Cognative dissonance prevented me even considering Harriet, that timmid, tiny slyph of a girl, anywhere near a Harley.  It didn’t fit.

 

“But Sam isn’t a total freak.  A girl who saw what Sam was like inside might…”

 

“Fall for him?” I asked

 

“Precisely.”

 

“Harriet”

 

“oh, call me Harry.  I hate the way everyone insists on treating me like I’m some precious jewel.”

 

“Well, arry the, do you think we can make julia see that side of sam?”

 

“I don’t see why not, but se isn’t, that is to say Julia doesn’t normally look that far into a man’s soul. Why”

 

“I think Sam has a crush on her”

 

“Poor boy.  I think.  In fact yes.  lets help her”

 

we toasted our new plan.  I had an allie.

 

 

Chapter 20

 

 

The evening passed quickly, rumours of Sam and i subsided, Harry deflecting what few remained.  We fished a bit – Julia certainly didn’t have her heart set on any boy in particular.  She spoke of going to the party with a boy from te year above.  This drew a few raised eyebrows, not because of the age difference – that was generally approved of – but because the boy in question had shaved his head a few weeks ago.  julia’s heart wasn’t in it though – he was a makeweight, an excuse for a partner for the party, not a major life coice.  She had no delusions, she was just leading him on.  Carrie scowled troughout – she had been looking forward to the party, and her parents had forced her to go out wit them instead.  She was not best pleased, and after an evening of sharing our feelings about everything with each other, boy did we know it.  Carrie was like a little ball of pent up anger about her parents.  What did she know about parents, this was one party that everyone would have forgotten about in a week or two, I had been uprooted by two maniacs who thought it would be an improving experience of some sort.

 

 

I think I may have underestimated Harriet – never judge first appearences.  Hiding behind her hesitent, careful choice of words and sugar-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth looks made her subterfuge a work of beauty.  For the most part I just sat back and watched in awe as she began to work her special kind of magic.  It all started a few moments after we had returned to Carrie’s room, carrying our scavenged supplies with us.  I took a seat on the floor, but Harry wanted to make her play straight off.  She placed herself directly opposite Julia and offered over a bowl of chocolates.  Julia dithered – its nice to know she at least made a token effort to look like she had to worry about her weight.  She held a hazelnut in caramel in her hand and looked at it from all sides, as if perhaps she could find a face to climb which was lower in calories.

 

 

“So Harriet, who are you going to the party with?”.  I noticed a slight flicker of Harry’s eye’s as Julia called her Harriet.  Had she really been bearing a grudge about how she was treated

 

“I don’t think I am”

 

“Not going with anyone”

 

“Not going to the party”

 

There was a general murmer of surprise and dissapointment.

 

“Why?” Kim asked “Come on Harriet, it won’t be the same without you”

 

“I just don’t feel I really want to”  Harry looked at the floor.  If she was acting it was worthy of an oscar – well, at least an emmy,.

 

“Is it that you don’t have a date?” Rebecca asked “Thats not a problem, I’m going alone”

 

“Harriet could get a date” Julia jumped to Harrys defence.  A reflex to protect her vulnerable friend.  Harry just continued to look at the floor in acknoledgment that they had  hit upon the root of the problem.  I was about to say something, but Harry noticed and coughed.  She wanted me to keep out of this, to play her game her way.  For a moment or two I wondered if she had read Mack’s book.  If she had, she would turn out to be dangerous as I got closer to the end game.  Harry shook her head, it was barely noticable, but it had what I could only assume was the desired affect.

 

“You could go with one of billy’s friends.  Darren has a moped” Julia blurted out.  Billy was Julia’s choice of neanderthal accompaniment.  The thought of Harry being turned by a moped was ammusing, indeed I wondered whether Harry going to manage to to hold her own dismissive laughter behind  her mournful expression.

 

“Darren?”  Harry asked “Maybe… its just he’s not…”

 

“He’s not what?”

 

“Nothing”

 

“No secrets remember” Carrie butted in

 

“No. Maybe Darren is OK”

 

“Whats wrong.  Is there someone else?”  Julia put her hand on Harry’s knee.  Harry stayed silent.

 

“There is” Julia began to smile.  “Theres someone else”

 

“No.  Not someone who would every consider”

 

“Who?”

 

“No.  He’s out of my league”

 

Julia shook Harry by the shoulders “Tell me who”

 

Harry just shook her head.

 

“I’m going to find out.  By hook or by crook.”

 

“Its not worth it.  I’ll go with Darren.  Ask Billy to ask Darren.  Is it a good moped”

 

“50cc”

 

“Oh”

 

 

Chapter 21

 

 

As we were on the bus, Julia began to start her investigation

 

 

“You were talking to Harriet a lot last night.  Did she tell you?”

 

“Tell me what?”

 

“Tell you who it was she wanted to ask her to the party?”

 

“That?”  I exclaimed in a loud screechy voice.  I think everyone on the bus must have turned and looked at me, if only to find out who it was that was acting badly  “No…  she was just telling me about the Triage her dad was doing up”

 

“Triage?”

 

“A Motorcycle”

 

“Oh the Triumph”.  Triage, Triumph.  How could I be expected to know?  It was a bike, a big lump of metal that made loud noises.  Not really my thing, but at least it was an interest, something that made Harry a bit unique. “So nothing about who it shes waiting for?”

 

“No.  Not really.  I don’t think she was very happy, doesn’t think he would be interested”

 

“Well, you’re no good.”

 

“Whoever it is, he must be hot”

 

“Or have a good bike”

 

“No, it’s more than that.” I remembered what Harry had told me to say the previous evening. “She said there was a spark inside, something alive, something that all the other boys don’t have burning in his soul”

 

“Well, we’ll have to find out who it is then.”

 

 

I looked out of the window, we were on the top deck, and looking down on the people in the high street.  From up here we could see down the hill intot he centre of town, a combination of buildings built before America was discovered and flat featureless modern architecture mingled together in front of us.

 

 

“Somewhere down there” Julia said, pointing out towards the sprawl “Somewhere down there is the man that’s making Harriet go all soppy”

 

“You thinking of taking him for yourself?” I asked, my tounge firmly in my cheek

 

“I would never do that to Harriet”.  I gulped.  I had to get her to change her opinion on that, otherwise she wouldn’t be there for me when I finally pulled the rug from under Carrie’s feet.

 

“but if she doesn’t tell you who it is, and if she isn’t ever going to risk making a move, and if he is as hot as he sounds well perhaps you ought to”.  I played my hand a bit too openly, but she fell for it.  Completly and utterly.

 

“You” Julia turned to me and hugged me “you might be right.  I never had you down for the devious type, Loren”.  She didn’t know the half of it.

 

“And anyway” I said “I think it might be someone we know… I just got this feeling that she was talking about someone close to home”.  Julia became more animated still, she was fidgeting in her seat, excited, like a young child waiting to unwrap their crhistmas presents.  She had a mission for the last few days of the Holiday, I could tell.

 

“So, do you want to help me find out who it is?”

 

“Sam’s coming over, he’s going to teach me some basic french”

 

“You don’t know french?”

 

“No,  me habla espanol”

 

“You what?”

 

“spanish.  Its what they teach us in America”

 

“well, can’t you carry on doing that here?.  We’ve got a spanish teacher at school.”

 

That was a turn up.  Maybe I wasn’t going to be as far behind – I might even be ahead, I was good at spanish and had been learning it for a fair time now.

 

“Maybe.  Oh well, Sam’s coming over anyway, but maybe I can cut things short.”

 

 

Chapter 22

 

 

But Sam was fun to spend time with, I didn’t rewally want to cut it short.  Perhaps, I thought, if Julia could see that she might fall for him without our help.  Still, I was in a Cernaro De’ Bergerac mood… well a Steve Martin in Roxanne mood anyway, I hadn’t seen the original.  There was a more subtle approach, one that Harry and I had faith might do the trick anyway.

 

 

I slapped Sam on the back

 

“I can’t belive you.  You are an incredibly strange person”

 

“Me?  Strange?  I’m perfectly normal and well adjusted.  Its just noone has noticed”

 

“You count in roman Dave’s.  It isn’t the sign of a sane mind”

 

“Who told you about that?  Anway, I think it’s better if you replace prime numbers with edward”

 

“Edward?”

 

“Would he?  What would ed do?”

 

“Chuck wood?”

 

“Possibly.  Do you know why Edward woodwood has four ‘d’s in his name?”

 

“No”

 

“Because if he didn’t he would be called ewar woowoo”

 

I collapsed laughing onto his lap.  I think he was embarassed, Sam stood up throwing me onto the floor.  I continued to laugh until finally I ran out of breath.  Over the next few minutes I regained my composure.

 

“Are you OK?” Sam asked

 

“Yeah” I replied, keeping the smirk on my face from errupting into another marathon session of hilarity

 

“Sam,” I asked “are you going to thr party”

 

“Party? Nahh”

 

He dismissed it.  But I was not to be discoruaged

 

“I’m going with Julia” I hinted.  It obviously made Sam stop and think

 

“weeell” he said after a long pause, “perhaps”

 

“Look, come along, it won’t be as fun without you”

 

Sam blushed.  he was sweet, especially when he was embarassed.  He nodded and looked down at me lying on the floor.  He playfully kicked towards my head

 

“Maybe”

 

“You, Sam, are going” I grabbed his foot and started tugging it.  He pulled back “No arguments”

 

“whatever.  anything to get back control over my extermities”

 

“you what?”

 

“My” he have an almighty tug freeing himself from my grasp “Foot.  There, thats better, I was beginning to think I owuld have to ask your permission to walk anywhere”

 

He didn’t know he was already under my control

 

“You’re so sweet” I laughed

 

“Oh.”  Sam said.  He sounded dissapointed.

 

“What’s up” I asked

 

“You called me sweet.  Never call a man sweet, no man wants anyone to think of him as sweet.  Basically what you mean is ‘I like you, but under no situation would I ever consider sleeping with you’.  Really, I have an ego and every mention of the word sweet dahes it against a metaphorical pile of jagged rocks.  Still, it is better than you thinking of me like a brother.”

 

“Fine.  I won’t call you swet again.  What would you prefer.  Fuckable?”

 

“That’ll do”

 

“You’re so fuckable Sam”

 

he smiled a weak smile.  It was the best he could manage.  He had asked for it.  And he was sweet… I mean fucakable.

 

 

Chapter 23

 

 

Sam actually made a vague attempt to teach me some French in case Julia had been wrong about my chances of learning Spanish.  Not much, but by the time he had finished, I was capable of counting to twenty, tell him my name and age and even ask simple directions (not that I could understand the replies, but that was the least of my worries)  He also studiously avoided talking about the things I wanted to talk about, like who he was going to ask to the party.  Of course I knew who he would like to ask – he was only going to the party because he had heard Julia was going to be there – but she was out of his reach as far as he was concerned – I laughed to think of Harry’s charade the previous evening – if only he knew Julia had been happily calling him ‘hot’ or at least callng a potential him hot… well, it amused me.  I, however, wanted to get away, to join Julia in her manhunt (if only she knew that her quarry was already under her roof, sitting upon her bed) and to get Sam thinking in the right way

 

 

“Look, Sam, I Know you’ve got your eyes set on someone”

 

Sam stopped and cocked his head to one side.  He stayed slient for a second or two “Did you hear that?”

 

“What?”  I hadn’t heard a thing

 

“You stamping on what remains of my ego”

 

“I called you fuckable.  What more can you want?”

 

Sam didn’t say anything.

 

“Just give me a name”

 

“Marge”

 

“I don’t know anyone called Marge”

 

“You didn’t know me ’till last week.”

 

“Marge doesn’t exist, does she?”

 

“No.  But its the best answer you’re going to get”

 

“What are you afraid of”

 

“Rejection.  Getiing my stillbeating heart torn from my chest and held in front of my face while the surrounding crowd jears and scratches to pick up the scraps fo my dignity”

 

“So nothing important then”

 

Sam gave me his best I’m-not-going-to-even-dignify-that-with-a-response face, which was a response in itself, and therfore farily pointless.

 

“Look Sam, there are lots of people who would want to go on a date with you.”

 

“None that I’ve noticed”

 

“I can think of one person”

 

“Never.”

 

I smiled a knowing smile

 

“Who?”

 

“I shouldn’t say.  But keep your mind open to it.  Some girls just find you a little… erm”

 

“Insane?”

 

“Intimidating”

 

“Is that a good intimidating?”

 

“Is there any other sort?”

 

“Isn’t intimidating meant to be a bad thing?”

 

“Not as bad as being sweet apparently”

 

“You said you wouldn’t call be sweet.”

 

“Don’t change the subject.”

 

“Okay”.  Sam probably only agreed with me because I was holding him in a headlock

 

“You are intimidating”

 

“Right.  got you.  could you let me go now?”

 

He was going to be just fine.

 

 

Chapter 24

 

 

Aside from the time I ran home from the Grafton centre, I hadn’t ventured into Cambridge alone until I went to find Julia.  She had told me she was going to be at a Starbucks with a hastily gathered war council.  She was intent on finding out who Harry’s beau was.  But I wasn’t intimidated – there was no way Cambridge could be any worse than Boston, was there.  Apparently, yes.  I had a map, but it wasn’t much use.  Mom had explained how the streets were constucted not according to Logic and sensible town planning, but medieval streets which were built at the whims of the people that used them.  I began to doubt that it was possible the roads connected to one another int he way they did.  Every so often I found m yself back at the market square, convinced I had walked away from it, and certainly not walked around in a circle.  Eventually I was able to find the coffee shop, hidden away on the quayside beside the river cam.  Tourists were balancing themselves picariously on punts as they attempted to make their way zigzagging up and down the river, while men in straw hats were offering to do guided tours for those not quite so brave or dexterous.  The sun was doing its best to make me wither up under itas glare, it was certainly an iced coffee sort of a day.

 

 

Julia was propped up on one of the tables outside along with Rebecca, they were poring over an exercise book.  Rebecca had written out a list of boys names and there were notes jotted beside each one.  I scanned it briefly

 

 

“Sam – as if!”

 

 

It was Rebecca’s writing.  There was still hope, despite the dismissal they had considered Sam, and I only knew for sure that Rebeccahad rejected him.  There was a possibility that Julia might be persuaded she had a deep yearning for him yet..

 

 

“Parlez Vouz France?” Julia asked.  I smiled.  I didn’t parlez France well enough to give her a decent answer, certainly.

 

“Oui” I offered.  Julia vaguely made the gestures to do a half hearted clap while Rebecca added a few more notes to the book.  Aparently Richard was “hardly deep” – it didn’t surprise me: I hadn’t met richard, but I didn’t expect the sort of people Julia would be considering were likely to be deep.  I was surprised to see Harry come out of the coffee house carrying several classed of frappe.  Was Julia really that transparent thet she would ask someone who they fancied so that she could steel their lover from under their nose?  Or had she gone back on her plan – that is to say my plan – to set herself up with Harry’s mysterious hunk?

 

 

“Loren!” Julia called “I didn’t know you were here. I’de have got you one too”

 

“Not a problem – I’ve only just arrived.  And I’ve been wanting to try the service in one of your quaint british starbucks.”

 

Harry place the glasses on the counter and accompanied me back inside.

 

“so whats going on?”

 

“Well, Julia isn’t all that good at the whole devious thing.  She got us together and more or less bullied us into ranking every male we had ever set eyes on.”

 

“So why has Sam only got an ‘as if’?”

 

“Because she has to think I want him for myself.”

 

I turned to the girl behind the counter who had been waiting patiently for us to finish our conversation – “A frappe with vanilla please”.  She handed me a ticket and I walked over tot he collection point

 

“So what happens now?”

 

“Well, as far as they’re concerned, we have a secret to discuss – there is no other reason why I would have followed you in here again.  And the only boy you’ve had any contact with today”

 

“Is Sam”

 

“Precisely”  Harry smiled smugly, but I still wasn’t convinced

 

“But she wouldn’t make a play for Sam on that alone.  I mean he’s… Sam” there was no other way to describe him, well there was, sweet and a bit weird – albeit a good kind of a weird.  “And he’s Carrie’s brother” that was a point that had to be remembered, it was a very taboo area – at least where I came from.

 

“You’re right” Harry stuttered again, reverting from her confident expanation back to the timid girl I had first met “but they’ll be thinking about him, I mean they’ll see him as a possibility – in a different light perhaps.”

 

“And?” I prompted her to continue

 

“And, when we get them together at the party, if they can be alone, Julia might decide to make some sort of a move.”

 

“What about Billy.”

 

“Oh, I think I can handle Billy”

 

“You?”

 

“I’m full of surprises when I need to be”

 

 

I walked back outside, carrying my coffee.  It was obvious that Julia was watching Harry and me carefully.  As I sat down, I glanced at the book, Julia had been randomly doodling, but more significantly, she had doodled the excalmation mark next to Sam’s ‘as if’ into a question mark.

 

 

Chapter 25

 

 

I hadn’t really talked to Rebecca that much, which was odd, I could see a lot of myself in her.  Rebecca wasn’t a walking contradiction like Harry, and she wasn’t the darling of the school social circle like JUlia, she shrack back a bit, but I could tell she observed what was going on, digested it and had a good feeling for things others might miss.  That was probably why Julia had asked her to come here, an extra set of eyes, and a better brain to help her.  Nevertheless, a few iced coffees down the line I was buzzing slightly and glad to get a chance to talk to her alone

 

 

“Julia tells me you’re good at school”

 

Rebecca didn’t deny it, she seemed a little embarassed about the whole thing.  It was hardly surprising, to stay in with the in crowd, you really don’t want to boast about your academic acheivements

 

“Sam’s helping you with French?” she asked.  Well, it was a staement, but clearly the subject of Sam had piqued her interest a little.

 

“He’s making sure I’ve got a rough idea of where to start – the stuff you learn is so different from back home.”  I thought I might as well play myself down, if that was how Rebecca wanted to do things.

 

“Carrie was talking to me about Sam”

 

“What did she say”

 

“That he had a crush”

 

I nodded.  It was obvious.  Rebeccal loked at me expectantly.  Eventually when she realised I had nothing to say she prompted me to continue with a “well”

 

“Well what”

 

She looked at me conspitorially “are you going to do anything about it”

 

“I’m not onehundred percent sure what you mean”

 

“You’re obviously planning something, cooking some plot up with Harry”

 

it was the first time I had heard anyone else call Harry by her chosen name.  Rebecca had obviously noted that she preferred it

 

“Don’t worry about it”

 

“Are you sure its what you want.  I can see a lot of problems for you”

 

“For me?”

 

“It isn’t going to be easy to convince Julia that its a good idea – she thinks Sam is a bit weird”

 

So rebecca had figured out exactly what we were planning.  Smart girl.  A bit too smart.  What chance did I have if she was going to second guess my every move.  I needed her on my side, that was for certain.  My side.  A worrying thought.  Was drawing battle lines really what I wanted to be doing – or was this train of thought the sort of weakness that could cost me success and victory.  Victory?  Did I really want to be top of the tree?  Did I want to beg for the scraps of success thrown down to me by the beautiful people who got everything else easily.  There was no sensible answer that I could even begin to construct.

 

“A penny for them?”

 

That didn’t make any sense.  Rebecca was staring at me intently, a slightly concerned expression coating her carefully applied makeup.

 

“A penny for your thoughts?” she explained “What are you thinking about”

 

“Oh nothing.”

 

“You know what Harry would say to that”

 

“She says a lot of things – I’m not quite sure I get her”

 

“If you think that, you’re probably closer than most.”

 

“I’m certain I don’t get you”

 

“I have a certain air of mystery?”

 

“Something like that”

 

“Cool.  But I like to think I’m straightforward”

 

“To everyone?”

 

“To people who understand whats going on around them.”

 

“Ah.  So not to anyone?”

 

Rebecca laughed.  Then she looked around carefully to ensure neither Julia nor Harry were anywhere near.

 

“You get me.  I sit back and watch.  I’ve watched you, and I think we are a lot alike.”

 

I nodded and smiled.  She did not return the favour but instead continued to talk.  Her change of mood had thrown me.

 

“I’m not sure that I like the way you’ve been behaving, you already have secrets, you’re sitting there making alliances.  Julia has you down as a carbon copy of her, Carrie thinks you’re a freak like Sam, Harry sees you as another chemeleon or whatever the hell she is.  I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you’ll never hold up all these different personalities.  I’ll be watching you like a hawk – these people are my friends, if you so much as consider hurting them, I wil make your life hell”

 

“Pardon?” I really couldn’t belive my ears.  Quiet, reserved, Rebecca was threatenign me.  And not in a way I could use against her – she had my actions down to a tee.  WHen you hear someone observing imparitually like that it really gives a jolt to the view that you’re in control.  Was Rebecca really able to see through me so easily?

 

“Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it.” she repeated herself.  I just sat there in stunned silence, staring at a spot in mid air about a foot above her forehead.  Rebecca smiled sweetly, then just as I was considering standing up and going to find where Julia had got to Rebecca began gabbling excitedly:

 

“You really don’t know much about the town do you.  It has so much histry, that chuch, just down the road is norman, built a thousand years ago.  and then theres Peterhouse college, that was founded not long after some religious refugees from Oxford decided to set up a university here where the old school of pythagoras used to be”  It took me a while to realise what had caused Rebecca to decide an impromptu history less on was appropriate – at first I wondered if it was some sort of multiple personality thing, I don’t know sort of a good side, a bad side and an incredibly boring side, but it was Harry tapping me on the shoulder that cleared everything up.  I looked into rebecca’s eyes and she met my gaze firmly, and smiled a confident winning smile.  Her makeup was perfect.  It was an odd thing to say but it was too perfect, almost clinical.  I had visions of her training herself using magazines as guidelines with no real feel for what she was doing, applying makeup like a technical illustrator draws blueprints rather than as an artist carefully highlighting and shading beauty.  It was comforting to think she might never quite notice that sort of imperfection even if she could see through the great flaws in othwer people’s behaviors

 

“I’m off” Harry said

 

“s’pose I should be too then” Julia replied.  It was clear she was a little irritated at not having got any firm idea of who it was that Harry had set her heart and her mind on.  I joined for for the walk back home.  We didn’t talk much – she was concenred about how she could be missing whoever it was Harry was flipping out over and I, well I was concerned that Rebecca would spoil everything if I wasn’t careful.

 

 

Chapter 26

 

 

There was a tension as the day of the party approached.  Julia was going mad, running around in small circles, making lots of phone calls to more of less everyone she had ever known, met or even vaguely heard of, in the vauge chance they had some form of psychic communion with Harry, and never being satisfied with the answer she was getting from them.  I on the other hand had my own worries.  Rebecca had the potential to expose me for the fraud I was, and no reason to like me.  I had to find some way of ensuring she would side with me as I pulled my way into the good social graces of my new peers, or I had to find some way to destroy her.  Getting her to side with me was going to be hard.  She had already seen that I was acting underhandedly towards her friends, so unless I was to infiltrate the position and become an equally trusted friend, there was little reason I could even begin to come up with that might find betraying them to me a viable option.  The alternative was for her to be dumped, excluded from the social circle.  That had a more promising feel to it, Rebecca was quiet, studious, traits that the beautiful people would only at best put up with.  She wasn’t a leader, she didn’t have anything to add to the group, she was a hanger on, dependent upon her firendships to keep her in the exaulted position of cool clique member.  I didn’t know how I was going to bring her down, but there would have to be an answer somewhere.  I flicked though Mack’s book

 

 

Principle 4.  A cut above the rest

 

 

We’ve all seen it, one day they are on top of the world, the next they are being rushed into the betty ford clinic, there career is over and noone wants to hear from them again.  How does this sort of fall happen – if you ask any celebrity it happens to they’ll tell you: it wasn’t their fault.  Sure, they may have taken the drugs, got involved with the criminals, slept with the prositute and acted in a film starring Chevy Chase, but that isn’t where it all started.  It all started because of a conspiracy.  Maybe it was the scientologists, perhaps the new york backers had decided that their career was over.  Maybe they were typecast and couldn’t reach their fuill potential.  Whatever it wasn’t something they did.

 

 

Of course, if you havn’t guessed by now, you might as well be using this book as lavetory paper, these people are wrong.  Of course its something they did.  One very small thing.  Something lotas of people, perhaps most people do but never really notice (and even when its to late and their lives are wrecked as a result, they don’t realise what the mistake really was.)  What was the mistake?  Dependence.

 

 

Imagine you have to change a lightbulb, either you can stand on a ladder, or you can suspend yourself from several pieces of string tied to the ceiling, which is more afective.  Someone could come along and break the rungs of the ladder one by one.  But each time they break a rung you’re not standing on, you’re OK at least until the ladder is sufficiently weakened that it breaks.  If, on the other hand you attempt the ariel suspension, each time someone breaks one of the strings, you will find yourself flailing around trying to regain your balance.  And int he process of doing this, you’ll be weakening the other strings – which may, in turn break.  And when they do break, its a longway down to the floor – and unlike with the ladder, the burke who is doing this to you won’t be there to break your fall (this has downsides of course, blood from the gaping gash on his forehead might ruin your suede shoes…)

 

 

Life is a lot like this, if you’re only support in the social structure comes from above, if even on of those people decide to cut you from their lives, then you could well be set for a fall.  And you will have no recorse, since people will always side with those more popular and beautiful than them.  You will be on your own with nothing left but memories of better days.

 

 

But you knew all this.  What you want to know (if I have have taught you well, and in my heart I know I have because, frankly, I’m not capable of doing anything other than the best) is how to arrange for someone who is dependent on thse above you to come crashing down.  Each situation will be different and will require independent thought on your own part (damn it, I’ve just cut the potential market for this book down to the twenety or thirty human’s alive who are capable of independent thought.  Oh well, at least I can be sure that copies of this book will never be exposed to boy band concerts or professional wrestling), however there are some things to watch out for:

 

 

It isn’t you doing the cutting.  You might be manipulating others to do the cutting, but noone (except you) should realise this.  This is imortant, after all, once whoever has been cut has their face well and truely muddied, you might wat to rely on them for support (and to keep your expensive (and hopefully blood stain free) suede shoes out of the mud, when you walk all over them).  Its also important that others don’t realise what you’re doing – on the assumption your motives for this are virtuous (you want to enter the power vacum – you’re not just doing this for sport… for sport I recomend genetically engineering foxes who can hunt huntsmen), you don’t want them getting the wrong impression that you are a manipulative bitch who is out to attack anyone within their circlke of friends, no you want them to think that this is all their idea.  Its amazing what people will do when they think they have been even slightly ingenious.  Consider learning to forge their handwriting then writing “destroy and humiliate victim socially” on the todo list in their diary – after all, I’m assuming thwese people arn’t really that bright!”

 

 

So you need someone to do the cutting – your best target is the highest rancking socially.  People tell you that days of social ranking and peerages are past, that we live in a society where people are judged on merit.  Perhaps.  But there is still a very clear social strata, especially in the schoolyard.  There will be someone at the top – if they cut their ties with any individual, so too will anyone who supports themselves socially simply by hanging from the queen bee’s popularity.  This is advantageous, one snip and they fall to the floor, unable to begin to pick themselves up until you are fully esconsed within their previous position (or at least furthr up the ladder if your sights arn’t set quite so high at this stage.)

 

 

Now comes the devious part – you need a mechanism.  Forget the diary thing, that was a joke (unless they really are that suggestible, in which case I suggest you start off by putting “Rob a bank and give me all the proceeds” in their diary… in fact if they are _that_ suggestibale, I really hope you would have already thought of that one – I’m not meant to be a substitute for common sense you knopw, just a moral guardian and ideas man).  What you need to do is make the victim look bag in the eyes of Miss popularity.  You don’t need to worry about any one elses eyes.  So find out what it is that little miss populrity hates, and make sure that your taget is doing/saying/wearing/sleeping with just that thing.  Repeat until exasperated or bored.

 

 

Rubbing it in.  This is an underrated, but very important issue.  When Miss popularity says anything, agree with her.  If she doesn’t say anything, moan about it yourself, just enough to get her to pick up the subject and run with it (and if you do the latter, as long as you’re opinion is not directly questioned, say no more about it, hopefully noone will remember the cause of the discussion, only their resultant outrage.  If you’re really good at this part you’ll soon find newspapers aplenty offering you higly paid jounolistic jobs – it isn’t the opinions you present, its the way you convince the public that the opinions are their, not yours!

 

 

Fillingt the vacume.  I keep saying you should do this, but I don’t say how.  There is a reason: if you have been able to do everything I have suggested so far, filling the vacume comes for free.  Don’t understand?  Think about it, you’re influential enough with the key figures in determining popularity, you have sided with them on a major argument and their friend has been dumped.  You will be both well placed, and they already know you are on their side.  There isn’t anything to do – you’re in.  Just make sure you are willing to do whatever they want, however vacuous (and it will be vacuous… these people don’t do things which require thinking or even vague reasoning skills)

 

 

And there you have it.  A few grooming skills (you know, just like great apes on the discovery channel – the closest living relatives to your peers – have) and you’ll be away.

 

 

Chapter 27.

 

 

It was reasonably simple to come up with a plan to strike at Rebecca.  I made a few telephone calls to try to arrange for things to happen in precisely the manner I required.  Everyone seemed surprisngly willing to play the part of unwitting dupe – it seems noone really noticies when you are suggesting things that seem totally normal without knowledge of the masterplan lurking behind them.  Noone could know what it was I was really intending to acheive, there had to be a element of complete and utter surprise for things to work perfectly.  Everything was due to occur on the night of the Party.  All I had to do about Rebecca was wait.

 

 

Carrie was an entirely different kettle of fish.  The problem with Carrie wasn’t finding a way to demolish her – seeing me effortlessly win over her boyfriend would do the trick – her reaction to my cool but cruel action owuld be enough to humiliate her in front of everyone – and from what I had seen Toni was as much of a friend as Carrie, they would have to choose between Her or us – and Living with Julia, I was the natural answer.  The problem was that we were going to have to go public at the party.  Toni had invited me to meet hims there – to be his date – and Carrie wasn’t going to be present.  I decided to call on Antonio and see what I could arrange

 

 

“Hello”, it was Antonio’s voice on the other end of the phone, as melodious as ever.  I quivered slightly at the sound

 

“Hi, it’s Loren”

 

“Hey, still on for tonight?”

 

“You bet I am, but Antonio”

 

“Call me Toni”

 

“Okay then, Toni, is it alright for us to meet up in the club, not beforehand”

 

“Why?”

 

“Well.  I’m just not sure about this.  Carrie doesn’t know about us”

 

“No.  But that isn’t a problem is it?  She won’t be there”

 

“Everyone else will though.  She’kll here about it.”

 

Antonio paused, he made a few grunts, which I supposed passed for the sounds of thoughtfulness transmitted over the telephone network.  It would have been more affective had we used a videophone and he had chosen to adopt a rodanesque pose, but such is the nature of technology that we have neither videophones nor flying cars.  Everything is so distinguishable form magic I can only assume science muyst be insufficeintly advanced.

 

“Toni” I pressed him.

 

“You’re right.  I should tell her face to face.”  I think I detected  a tiny simmering glint of malice in his voice.  Whatever, it wasn’t directed at me “But you still want to go to the club with me?”

 

“Of course, yes”  thats the way girl, play it cool, don’t let him know just how interested you are.

 

“Then yes, let’s meet up in the club, noone will pay attention if you desert them for a while to be with me.  and the dicing with  the danger of our discovery – it will make things a littl emore exciting.”

 

 

I wasn’t really sure how anything could make it more exciting.  This was me.  Plain loren from Boston.  Loren who’s idea of a good date was… well… anyone really.  Loren going to a nightclub and meeting up with the most gorgeous guy I had ever laid eyes on.  Meeting up in secret, hoping that his girlfriend – the girlfriend he was dumping in order to go steady with me – wouldn’t find out about our trist.  It was a shame I couldn’t do this openly and honestly.  I really wanted to.  Noone back home would ever belive that Antonio could fall for me, and here we were, conspiring together so that our love would win out against all odds.  Perhaps I was tending too much towards hyperbole, but hyperbole was how I felt, I don’t think my bole had ever been this hyper before.

 

 

There was one thing left to do before I started getting ready for our big night out:

 

 

“Hi”

 

“Who is this?”

 

“Me”

 

“Ah.  Am I meant to know who me is?  Or is this oem sort of gussing game?”

 

“Do you want it to be a guessing game?”

 

“I’m not very good at them.  Whoever I guess it it, it always turns out to be someone else.  I think maybe people deliberately phone me up, then switch calls over to entirely unrelated people”

 

“Sam.  its Loren”

 

“I know.  I have caller ID”

 

“So why the guessing game spiel.”

 

“The phone companies are out to get us.  I assure you, if they thought thwey could ruin my social life by giving me someone elses caller ID, they would.  Anyway, you sound just like Julia.  You might have been her.”

 

“Julia?  Did she phone you”

 

“No.  But things could have got confusing”

 

“Sam.  I’m american.  I don’t sound anything like her.”

 

“well it would have been really confusing if you were julia then.  It would have meant you had switched voices and everything.  That sort of thing would be worrying, if you ask me.”

 

“I didn’t”

 

“Well good.  I’m not worried.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“So…”

 

“What?”

 

“well, i assumed you were going to interrupt.  You called me.  Was there anything you wanted to know”

 

“I just wanted to check you were coming tot he party tonight”

 

“Yeah.  I did say I would.”

 

“I thought you might chicken out on me.”

 

“I don’t break my word on purpose.”

 

“But you say Julia hasn’t phoned you at all?”

 

“No.  Why?”

 

“Ah.  Just something I thought I heard her say.”.  You see, depsite everything I am the master of deception.  That last sentence was entirwely untrue, but also was in no way proovably untrue – its easy enough to missinterpret almost anything if you are sufficiently stupid (or listening to someone sufficiently stupid, which is closer to the truth in this particualr case), but now sam was thinking that Julia might actually want to talk to him – confidence boosters R us.  Or something  In any event, all that was needed now was a little of Harry’s fairy dust.  I didn’t know quite what it was she was planning to pull, but I was already sufficiently trusting of her skills that I was confident whatever she did was going to be a success.  It was a risk, and one I’m sure uncle Mack wouldn’t have approved of, but the way i saw it, I wasn’t relying on Harry for my long term goal, just a minor step in my path, and there was nothing big she could do to betray me -  at worst she could tell Julia and Sam what had been planned.  No big loss, really, in fact that might be enough to get them together.

 

 

I ended the call with sam, and completly satisfgied with my skills as both aphrodite and agent prevacatur, I practically skipped upstairs to my room.  Tonight was going to be fantastic.  I could see nothing that was going to get in the way of following uncle Mack’s plan.  By the beginning of school on Monday, I would be in the popular set.  From there on in everythign would be easy – I would have a real social life for the first time in my existence!

 

 

Chapter 28

 

 

For julia, preparing for an evening out was more than the simple process of washing dressing and applying make-up,  it was a meditative psychological process thought which she trancended her normal state of being and became the energised party animal who was intended to make the entire town look at her whe she strutted her ever so carefully arranged stuff on the floor of the club.  Observing in the detail I did was a fascinating experience, somewhat like watching a butterfly emerging froma cucoon.  It wasn’t that the every day julia wasn’t hyper and enerjectic, it was just that she was restrained – there were inhibitions which she hid behind – restrictions placed on her by polite society which had no place in the excitement of a night on the town.  While I made careful arrangements to my hair I watched Julia’s little rituals with the fascination who knew that with understanding of the process it would vbe she who would onday fill her trainer’s shoes.

 

 

Julia had begun slowly.  She worked on the fine detail first, jobs which required the care of her everyday selfe – things which there would be no place to worry about at a latter stage.  She was quiet, wearing her headphones, first paying careful attention as she cliped and filed her nails.  Then she placed a pack upon her face and lay back to allow her sink to absorb the natural goodness.  This from a girl who would normally complain if you were to push her face first into a pile of mud.  Not that I had actually done that – sometimes fantasy is sufficient..

 

 

Next she showered.  This I summised was the source of her metamorphasis.  Washing away the mundane and coming out not only revived and refreshed, but also reborn.  Already I could see the flames burning in her eyes as she prepared to burst forth out of her old skin, to rise again as the pheonix rises from the ashes, but we mustent jump thhe gun.  Her new self was inside, but there was still an element of patients to be required as makeup was applied – not subtly to hilight her face, but in a more dramatic tone which would reflect the club’s light, draw attention not only to those looking directly at her, but also from otheras simply glancing accross the room.

 

 

Next she dried her hair and nails in one drawn out session of teasing and blowing with a hairdryer abnd brush.  LArge theatrical strokes, each with more energy, each with more life.  It was now that she truely began to change.  Julia stepped inside her wardrobe, she forgot all hers carful plans of earlier and wripped one item of clothing after another from her hanger, allowing them to drop to the floor until she had found a perfectly complimenting outfit.  It was pink – and were if not for the association our society links pink to women, one might has suspected the fluoescent coulourscheme had come from a workman’s shirt.  In any event, it was intended to attact attention, and I suspected even in the complete absence of light it might be successful.  He hair was backcombed, tassleded, teased and sprayed into a display which appeared to defy gravity.  Her jewelarry was minimal and tastful when compared to her costume, but still exceeded her everyday ware.  And she was on the telephjone talking at an even greater speed than before.  It was Harry, I think, who had th epleasure of the conversation while I tried to mimic her transformation, but despite having watched a master, my heart wasn’t in it.  I had no desire to attract attention, I just wanted to slip into the background with Antonio while Sam and Julia discovered their own attraction to one another.

 

 

Never did I build up to her level of excitement, but in part that was because I was buzzing from the beginning.  to julia a social activity of this scope was an everyday occurence, but to me this was new.  It was more than visiting with friends,. more than talking and laughing, it was a process of going out into the town and a night of victory.  Unlike anything I had done before – and Iw as looking better than I had before.  Not quite the stunning, sparking Julia, but not the dull drab loren of old.  I had reached a new height.  Nothing was going to stop me now.

 

 

“where do you think you’re going young lady”

 

Noone except for my mother.  Even now I could head Dad pouring milk into a saucepan

 

“Its a party, tonight.  I said”

 

“Looking like that.  Really, do you think thats a good idea”

 

“This is Cambridge Mom, not new york.  I don’t think they actually manage excitement here”

 

“So, whos house is the party at?”

 

“Its at a club.”  The moment i said that, I regretted it.  Mom wasn’t cool – I was too young to get into clubs, too young to drink leagally.  There was no way she would let me get away with it.

 

“Ah.  And Aunt Gladys knows this does she?”

 

“Of course she does” Julia said, I hadn’t notice her following me down the stairs.

 

“Well…”

 

Mom was flumoxed.  But hey, I was a teenager and if my cooler, madder aunt couldn’t undermine her authority to my benefit, what would the poiunt of my existence be?

 

“We’re out of Mil dear” dad cried from the kitchen

 

“So I’m off then Mom”

 

I walked towards the door.

 

“You… You… Mom called after me as she hurried towards Dad.

 

Dad mouthed something to Mom, I didn’t quite catch it, but susepcted he was siding with me – some of his stories suggested he didn’t always say on the strictly legal side of the law when he was my age.  Mom finally finished her sentace just before I shut the front door

 

“You have a good time darling”

 

“We will, Julia called back.”

 

Then we ran to gfet out of sight of the door before mom had a change of heart.

 

 

Chapter 29

 

 

It was still early in the evening when we met at the Cafe.  Putting aside all thoughts of school, there was still a buzz between us.  Everyone seemed a little surprised to see Sam, especially given Carrie’s absence.  But there were fewer of the snide comments which I had heard before.  Julia, in particular, was far more willing to talk to hime, or at least acknowledge his existence.  Harry, spent a lot of time avoiding looking at him – it was play acting, and not as good as her earlier work as far as I was concerned, but nevertheless it appeared to be effective.  Julia certainly appeared to notice it – and she smiled a devious smile I had seen before – on my own face, in the mirror.

 

 

We hung out, until everyone arrived, I noticed that Billy wasn’t in evidence.  Harry explained, he had been held up by his job – apparently he wouldn’t be around until much later.  I knew there was more to it than that, and I pressed her, but Harry insisted that there really had to  be some secrets to which I did not know the answer.  I smiled and nodded, but the truth would out – Harry couldn’t hid behind her cautious shell with me.  I knew it, she knew it – or she would know it soon.  School had been put to the back of our minds, we were young, we were hip, we were ready for a night of drinking and dancing, there was noone who was going to hold us back.  I downed the rich syrup which had collected at the bottom of my Mocha and led the exodus from the coffee shop and out towards the night club’s long queue.

 

 

There really isn;t any good reason for the length of the queues outside of night clubs.  If a club cared about the customers coming through the doors, they could easily make them more accessible.  You don’t see queues like that at a supermarket – or even at a cinema.  The reason the clubs do it is to intimate that they are popular enough to leave a queue of people advertising what they are prepared to stand through in order to enter.  And noone in the queue would have it any other way – it’s part of the clubbing experience, the standing out in the cold, a faint fog of spitting rain making it just slightly uncomfortable, but being ingnored in the general excitable atmosphere the line engendered.  Through the rain the steetlamps glowed was soft and faintly shimmering.  I basqued in the glow, my heart beating ever faster.  I could hear a thumping beat of music from inside, only faint but certainly audiable, I tapped my foot in time with it.  We moved forwards towards the door as a few people were allowed inside.  Why only allow two or three?  Julia passed me one end of her long pink artificial feater boa, I hung it around my neck.  It clashed with my more sophisticated black slinky number, but it was a spur of the moment thing, and I was happy to embrace it.

 

 

Rebecca had hardly said a word to me all evening.  I don’t think it was so much that she hated my guts, she had proven to herself that she preferred people to belive we had no problems – it was a sensible manever – she certainly didn’t want to stir up a controvosy, especially when I managed to be fitting in fairly well.  Rebecca had been watching a well dressed man, good looking abut significantly older than himself.  he had seen her in the coffee shop, locked eyes with her and acknowledged her existence.  After we had left (and that was with alittle persuading ond waiting for Rebecca who had wanted to see if he was watching her) and positioned ourselves in the queue, he too had come around, and was posting himself futher down the line.  Many people might consider that sort of thing freaky, but Rebecca was, apparently up for it, or at least happy to lead him on.  Advising her not to talk to strangers would probably be frowned upon, and she was big enough and ugly enough to take care of herself.  Anyway, my motives were not particularly without an element of the self serving in this matter.

 

 

We edged closer to the door.  Micheal and Kim were being very couply.  Its interesting how people can undergo a complete transformation when they are placed with one another.  Both Michael and Kim, on their own, were perfeclty respectable, entertaining and moreover fun people to be with.  Together, however, they were either strained, because only one was managing to be involved int he conversation or worse, they were both interested in each other, creating the sort of nauseating scene that was before us now.  I’ve seen it happen before, in fact to almost every coupe that exists, the potential nausea generation when with single friends is quite astonishing.  I made a mental note that no matter what happened I would never allow anotni and me to be like that.  Of course tonight we would be totally alone, noone would have to witness the spectical – we would leave the nausea for Carrie when she publically founf out what had occured.

 

 

I was woken from my dreaming by a call of

 

 

“How old are you” by a bald, burly, neanderthal dressed in a black puffa-jacket and DMs.  I responded with the truth: that I was eighteen.  It was a truth – technically the untrue type of truth, but thew truth with had served me well enough in the past when we had wanted to see R-rated movies back home.  I wasn’t expecting the reply of

 

“Pull the other one”, especially given that Kim and Michael had just been let inside.  Julia tried to weave her magic, but the neandertal probably wasn’t quite up to understanding the reasoning that we just simply had to get inside.

 

 

We left.  Rejected.  Rebecca, who had studiously avoided talking to or associating herself with Julia, Sam or Harry as the argument had progressed, remained in line to chance her luck.  Evidently her luck had held out as, while we retired back to the cafe to comisurate, and accept defeat, she never showed her face.

 

 

Chapter 29 – Defeat bones connected to the ankle bone

 

 

The hot coffee wasn’t as welcoming as the bottles of Reef inside the club would have been, but it was all we had the chance to consume.  Julia was distraught, it had been, as far as she was concerned not only an inslut to her, but also to her fashion sense, choice of cloths and indeed everythign to do with arranging tonight’s activities.  I could almost feel for her.  I had bigger worries – what sort of  strategem could get Sam and Julia together now.  She was harldy in the mood for romance, as far as I could figure about the only thing which would save her from terminal depression and perhaps suicide was a large tub of Haagen Daaz double chocolate – at least britain was civilised enough to have that sort of over the counter prozac substitute.

 

 

We looked at it from all the angles

 

 

Did we look to young?  Perhaps, but we couldn’t see any reason why Kim or Rebecca should look any older than us.  There was no justification.  Sure, they guessed we were underage, but hey, they wern’t going to let that sort of thing damage their potential profits if they thought they had a case of plausible deniability.  It was the excuse for the rejection, but not the reason.

 

 

Was it what we were wearing?  To give the bouncer any sort of high level managarial level reponsibility for determinging the fashion sense of prospective customers would be like giving Macdonald’s the responsibility for determining what made a meal full of flavour.  I sujjested “giving Jane Austin responsibility for recognisding when a sentence whent on too long” as a better metaphore – I thought the whole mcdonalds one had too many flaws, but my point went over everyone elses head.  It would have been nice to have Rebecca here siding with me.  As it was, the only person who had any idea of what I meant was Sam and he preferred “Like asking Microsoft to judge what consituted ethical business practices”.  He claimed it was biting satire.  Personally I think boys like him should be forably kept away from computers until they are old enough that all psychological imprinting is complete.

 

 

Was it how we were talking?  Well, I wasn’t I was busy hiding my disgust for Michael and Kim’s actions.  So it wasn’t my words.  I assume the bouncer was a neo-nazi based on… well mainly based on his choice of a fun and fulfilling career, but I had kept any discussion of socialism down tot he level approriate for an american citizen (which is only slightly louder than a modern british labour party.  Ha! now that was biting saitre.  Even Julia pretended she understood what I was talking about.)

 

which meant I wasn’t clearly making myself politically unacceptable – and I don’t think Michael and Kim were in any situation to have shown they were of a particularly socially acceptable sort – toungs manage to communicate little when they are jammed down another throut – and what they do communicate is usually passed on to the other participant (expect in the case of particularly good ventrilaquists)

 

 

There was no real explantion.  We had all the bases covered, and the neanderthal still managed to find a reason to bar us.  Perhaps we were just the result of a random firing of his neuron.  It was clear the God hated us.  I could have told you that months ago when he decided to screw up my life by sending me here in the first case.  At least I still had the benefit of the fallen angel backing me from inside his book, and, less usefully at the moment, given our state inside the coffee shop instead of doing what my dad would embarass me by calling “boogying the night away” inside the club.

 

 

We had no intention of giving up.  Harry and I had too much riding on tonight’s activities to let us give up, while Julia felt humiliated by her rejection – and I was worried she would blame me, or perhaps Sam, and our close association with her on the night when she finally had the chance to analyse what had occured rationally.

 

 

“There must be a fire escape” I suggested, another way in

 

“Alarmed – at least if they have any sense” Julia told me.  I had the feeling that perhaps she spoke not from reasoning as she pretended but rather from a position of bitter experience.

 

“If there was an easy way in, I think, people would know about it, and perhaps they would exploit it. Anyway it would get shut faster than we could say lowered profit margins” Harry said.  She was right

 

Could we perhaps change clothes and try again?  Unlikely – Julia had made the mistake of causing the bouncer to think, he would probably resent that and bare a grudge.  It didn’t lead to the likelyhood he would forget us that quickly.

 

Was he on the door all evening?  If he had a break, perhaps that would give us another chance.  It didn’t seem likely, Julia thought it was worth a go.  Harry hesitated, but was generally positive.  I was less sure about the whole thing – I wasn’t big on rejection, there was no reason to go through the same sort of humiliation in front of another different crowd, but I was willing to go along with the majority, like Uncle Mack had suggested I should so I looked to Sam.  Sam wasn’t there.

 

 

Chapter 30

 

 

Sam had, in fact crossed to the other side of the Coffee shop and was talking to some people who looked more like Harry’s scene.  Tall, long haired men with leather great coars which hung down to their ankles and flapped behind them as they walked.  They were waring nail polish and chains – their preperation for the evening must have been as meticulous as Jennys, though I noticed their penchant for pink was somewhat less obvious.  Sam noticed that I, and indeed the result of us were looking at him and his new compainions.  I couldn’t blame him for dumping us and trying to find people who were not quite as big a group of losers, but his taste was seriously flawed if he thought these were the answer.  Sam started to gesture, pointing his head towards them, jerking it vigorously.  Whats that boy, you’re trying to tell us something boy?  Timmy is stuck in the well?  No?  What then?  You want us to come over boy?  Well why didn’t he ask rather than looking like someone with a particularly weird form of nervous twitch.

 

 

“Loren, Julia, Harry”, Sam was excited.  “I think I may have fallen on the answer”

 

“It’s strange” Julia commented, ” each and everyone of those words I know, but Sam manages to convert them into some meaningless jumble”

 

“No.  You’re missing his joke”.  It wasn’t the fact that it was the talest of the leather clad men speaking, nor the long tatoo spiralling down one of his arms – he was wearing a leatehr tank-great coat, a weird choice of fashin statement for a Cambridge coffee shop.  It was his voice.  We shared a common heritage, the accent was unmistakably new england.  “The name’s Jed, and you’re friend here was responsible for attempting to drown us.  luckily his plot was unsuccessful”.  Jed pointed to a large puddle of coffee which was pooling under their table.

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry” I said without thinking and grabbed some napkins.  It was only as I was halfway through mopping up the puddle that I realised that there was really nothing to be sorry about – at least nothing for me to be sorry about.  This was Sam’s mes, and aside from the worrying man who’s hand was attached to his shoulder, he didn’t seem to be doing too badly.

 

“So”, Julia continued “What answer have you found, Sam”

 

“Well” Jed stepped in to avoid having to translate from Samspeak into princessease “Sam mentioned about how he was doing everything wrong today, how he didn’t get let into a club ruining all your nights which given that he has a crus – ow”  Jed paused as he looked down at where Sam had kicked him “One of them?” he whisperd sotto voce “Sorry man” then continued “and how he had just spilt coffee over a group of men who were going to give him severe beatings.”

 

“You’re not?  You wouldn’t” Harry stuttered

 

“No way.  And anyway, this kid is cool.  We got talking, you see the thing is, that club you got bounced at, me and the boys are playing there later”

 

And then I knew where it was I recognised them from.  The CD Julia showed me – it was obvious why she had got it now, the Classix were playing here. I was talking to the Classix.  I think it sunk into Julia and Harry at about the same time

 

“So you can get us in then” I asked

 

“Don’t see why not.  Hey – is that a Boston accent?”

 

“Yeah”

 

“Where you from?”  I turned and looked at Harry, she was green with envy – they wern’t bikers, but tI think she would have made an exception in this case. We left the coffee shop and walked back towards the club.

 

 

There is a bond between foreigners from the same area when they meet overseas.  Jed was a successful… well, successfulish musician who, I learned had graduated from MIT and hung out at just baout every cool destination in Boston, but he seemed perfectly happy, in fact quite glad, to be talking to a schoolgirl who just knew about those places as being where the cool kids snuck into (of course, I didn’t quite tell him that, I may have exagerated my coolness a little).  I just wished I was actually reasonably familiar with his music.  I heard it, you couldn’t really survive in Boston without being aware of it, but there was nothing I really knew.  Julia never discovered that she was a bigger fan than me, she was happy to bask in my reflected coolness.  Hear it, MY reflected coolness.  I was her Cool friend.  I hal0f expected to wake up in a few minutes, but hey, while it lasted I might as well make the most of it!

 

 

Jed led us around the back of the club and up a stairway I owuld never had otherwise guessed led into a club.  He urged us to be quiet while he checked that therewas noone around who would realise what he was doing.  Apparently there was noone because I brought us into the backstage lounge and pointed us towards the door to the dance floor.  Julia and harry did their best acts of little greatful girls, and I like to think I was a bit calmer.  As the three of them headed out Jed suggested we come back later, but I chose to hang back now

 

“I know you’ve done a lot for us Jed, and tahnks a lot for that, but I was wondering if you could do one more favour”

 

“Sure thing”

 

“Well, that crush you mentioned, I’ve been trying to set Sam up with Julia for a while.  I think with your help…”

 

He nodded and smiled.

 

 

I joined Julia and the others on the dance floor.  Rebecca was easy to spot on the other side of the floor, talking to the man she had been eying earlier.  I smiled to myself, then turned and waved at Jed.  Rebecca noticed and glared slightly. We made our way over, her guy began to walk away.

 

“He is sooo hot,” Rebecca confided to Julia

 

“I made gagging noises.  “you’re sick”

 

“What?” rebecca didn’t understand

 

“you’ve been chatting up my uncle”

 

“That is uncle Dave’s brother” Julia asked.  Dave, my dad. Her laughter didn’t susbside for more than five minutes.  I don’t know where Rebecca got to, but by the time we had recovered, she had gone, and her reputation was covered in egg.

 

 

Chapter 31

 

 

Reef.  Alchohol and fruit juice.  If you only observed young women at clubs you would come to the conclusion that it was all they ever consumed,. a sort of ambrosia of the like-oh-mi-gods.  Bottles were purchased.  The contents were consumed and the music played on.  We danced, we haddled in groups we watched the crowd, we laughed, we sang along to “I’m a believer”.

 

All the time we moved in time to the music.  Everyone together, it was a shared experience.  When one laughed we all laughed.  But while I played the part, I was not devoting all my attention to it, I kept taking sneeky peaks to see if I could spot Antonio, but he was nowhere to be seen.  Perhaps he was keeping out of Julia’s way, but I had no real chance to dump her.  Wherever she went she dragged Harry and I with her, to act as a levelling mecahnism, ensuring that our intuitions matched hers.  Interestingly she asked me (when she was sure Harry wasn’t looking) if she thought that Sam had been looking at her when Jed mentioned the crush.  I told her that I had no idea, being under the table mopping up the spilled coffee, but that he might well have been – that he hadn’t spoken to me about Harry as much as he had talked about Julia (it wasn’t even a lie – obviously my cousin had come up in conversation more than any other people who I had only just met)

 

 

But eventually a girl has to go off on her own (or rather to the toilet, brining harry along with me, to discuss if our game plan had changed)  Julia had promised to get more drinks in, and Sam was going to help (he seemed to be swaying a little less than my cousin at this point).  It was the case that people like Sam and Julia should not really be left on thier own, and much as I suspected they discovered more trouble.  Meer seconds after Harry and I had left them another of the puffa-jacket mafiosa had grabbed Sam firmly by the shoulder and directed him and Julia to a back room, complaining that they were buying drinks underage.  It was almost as if it had been planned.  In fact, if I had to guess (and I didn’t) it was almost as if one of the Classix’s roadies had doned a black jacket and done precisely what Jed had instructed him!

 

 

Harry and I listened to Julia’s protestations and to Sam pointing out that he suspected his civil rights were being infringed upon as they were led away.  Then, when the coast was clear of lovebirds who needed to be forced to spend time alone with one another we returned to the bar.  Jed beckoned us over tot he stage

 

 

“All done, ladies, how long do you want them kept there?”

 

“Until they the need to be surgicaly detached from one antoher’s faces” Harry suggested

 

“Until they figure out one way another whether they actually like each other”.  Loren.  Always the diplomat.  Hey it wouldn’t do to let a man who looked like he had escaped for a bad sci-fi film to recognise me as the evil genius I was, he might betreay me to his alien overlords.

 

 

To social part of the evening’s activities were over – than tends to happen when you’ve arranged for your uncle to humiliate one of them while your cousin and her date are arrested by security staff with isufficient authority to hold them.  Or at least it had tonight – I assume it always does, I was  new to this sort of thing – it wasn’t really my family’s way of solving problems, but I didn’t expect clubs would be into the serving of hot chocolate based beverages.  Harry had  attached herself to one of the bands roadies, so I wandered off to see if I was able to find Antonio.

 

 

My first stop was the bar – inconsiderate of Sam and Julia not to leave my drink in an easily accessible place, I thought.  Grapefruit flavour vodka based drink, apparently according to the label.  I could afford to allow my self to let my guard slip a little, everything I had planned was following through perfectly.  Jed was singing and I swayed along with the words

 

 

“Now everythings coming up roses,

 

but the ground’s still covered in shit

 

in the garden of sin

 

where the trouble’s begin

 

before the burning flames of hell are full lit”

 

 

A guitar solo rang out,m reverberating off the walls, red lights swpt around the club

 

 

“No You’ll never see me now, just a shadow

 

deception is so easy to do

 

but you won’t be relived,

 

when the decptors deceived

 

and those demons all come back to haunt you”

 

 

I flet a tap on my shoulder and spun round.  It sillohetted against the bright lights of the stage was the tall, georgeous italian form of Antonio.  He whispered to me that he wanted to get me a drink, I showed him a half full bottle of Reef, but I guess he must have just been a pessimist since he turned to the barman

 

 

“You know the incubus just isn’t a legend

 

The succubus more than a creature of night

 

If you don’t stay alert

 

you’ll get your just deserts

 

‘cos their teeth pack a powerful bite

 

 

And you’ll never be quite sure what has hit you

 

Everything can come to an end

 

Not every phenoix is reborn

 

When cries of victims are forlorn

 

and noone remains as your friend

 

 

and there’s no way that my heart will ever mend”

 

 

Antonio handed me the drink.  This was by far the best evening of my life.

 

 

Chapter 32

 

 

Toni was charming.  He was witty.  He was swarve.  He was sophisticated.  None of that got in the way of the important point – that he was incredibly good looking.  His shirt hung from his sleek chest and other his immaculaly pressed trousers.  His eyes were a deep rich chocolately brown, smooth and creamy and entrancing, dehabilitating.  I could have memorised every fleck and slicht change in colour of his iris had I been able to think sensibly as I stared into them.  But that was impossible, I was under his power. Enthralled. He led me intot he centre of the dance floor, place his hands on my shoulders.  i grasped his waist.  I felt each and every of his perfectly honed hip muscles flex and he began his rhythmic dance.  I followed as he led, he brought out a different dancing from the giggling group jigging of earlier.  There was a passion and an earthy sensuality which he was bringing out of me.  Every move we made was in time, as he tilted his head to his right, I tilted mine to my left, I followed each and every step he made, even our breathing and heart rates were in step.

 

 

As the music came to an end, Toni raied on arm and lowered another, I followed his movements and fell down into his arms.  I looked up and could see the stage, Jed was lookign down straight at me.  he smiled and beckoned for us to come over.  I returned to my feet and grasped Toni by his hand.  I rubbed my fingers against his fingernails and gradually pulled in in Jed’s direction.  It was antonio’s turn to follow me now, he was my thrall as much as I was his.  Jed was waiting at the side of the Stage, I went to Join him.

 

 

“Having a good night?”

 

I nodded  “You bet.  Hey, Jed, this is Antonio”

 

Toni raised his hand to shake Jed’s

 

” I noticed.  And I thought you only had philanthophic motives for getting rid of Julia and Sam”

 

I laughed “Am I that transparent?”

 

Antonio laughed “Julia and Sam”.  It was adorable the way he placed an accent on Sam as if Toni could hardly finish the sentence without choking

 

“Maybe you don’t know you’re friends as well as you think you do” Jed said, winking at me “I don’t know whats going on in there” he gestured towards the room where Sam and Julia were being held, “but its all gone awfully quiet – soemthing has happened”

 

“It if makes them happy”

 

“if it makes you happy you mean.  Look, we’ve got a couple more sets to play, then we’re heading back for a party.  You want to join us, just come through”

 

Antonio seemed stunned that I was standing here having a rock star inviting me to a backstage party while all the while grasping firmly on his arm.  I turned to him and mouthed “You wanna go back later?”  He just nodded in the afirmative.

 

 

We walked to the side of the stage.  It was dark and not as crouded as the club’s main concourse, where on the dance floor bodies girated and convulsed in some vague time with the pounding music, here they were stiller, intertwined while lips touch cheeks, necks and other lips.  I wound my arms around Toni’s torso and he grasped the small of my back firmly.  His heartbeat was deep and resonated though my body, we were one in the darkness, together at last.

 

 

There are moments when time seems to stop, where what might be only a few seconds to those observing from the outside seem like an eternity to those involved.  That is wat it was like with Toni and I, it was as if the rest of the world was just a distraction that we could remain where we were forever and all would be well in the world.  Jed’s deep voice was pounding away another rock ballad but all I was paying attention to were the occasional whispers that toni was practically blowing into my ears.  I had no idea of what was going on around us, I didn’t care – there was no arround us as far as I was concerned, there was only Toni and I, forever.

 

 

It seemed like it would never end, like it should never end, that we should have been eternally one, but these times pass – I was beginning to get thirsty and the music, I noticed had ceased.  I pulled my lips away from Toni’s face, he looked down into my eyes and let go his firm hold, returning to just a light but tender touch upon my elbow.  He was smiling a warm, loving smile.  I let him go and walked in the direction of the bar, but I only managed to walk a matter of steps before I saw her, sitting there in a booth, nurding a class of coke and looking in horrified disbelief at Antoni and I.  It was rebecca and as I looked at her, her horror transferred to my face and she picked up my smile.  Rebecca, Carries closest friend had seen everything.  Rebecca who I had hurt and who had every desire to hurt me now knew precisely what my secret was.  I had no reason to think she would keep this to herself, she would tell Carrie, and then she would tell everybody.  There was nothing I could do about it.  Nothing.  I looked back towards Antonio, tears beginning to well up within my eyes.  He still hadn’t seen Rebecca and came up towards me.  His shock was more visible than mine, a physical jerk and spinning towards Rebecca

 

 

“Rebecca, fuck, I didn’t know you.  Did you see…  It wasn’t like it…”

 

“Save it for carrie” Rebecca replied.

 

 

Chapter 33

 

 

Rebecca was true to her word.  She set out to destroy me, and began where she could, by running to make a telephone call.

 

Carrie.  She was telling Carrie about Toni and I, about our passionate embrace in the corner of the club.  Carrie knew that Toni and her wouldn’t last – every knew that Toni and Carrie wouldn’t last, but Carrie had shown herself willing to fight from the first time I met her.  It wasn’t the sort of thing that a friend should have done.  I could have waited for the relationship to end if all I had wanted was Toni – if he was asking others out then it wouldn’t have been much more than a few days – no, the reason I had gone this way was that I wanted to see carrie hurt, and the plan had backfired.  There was nobody to blame but myself.  So I blamed Toni.

 

 

“why did you let her see us like this?”

 

“I…”

 

“You didn’t break up with her”

 

“but I thought…”

 

“And she saw everything we were doing, she must have watched us all the while we were togethether”

 

“Look, we were…”

 

I was being unfair the Antonio.  I wasn’t his fault, but I had to stop thinking about what I had done.  It was the old week Loren who worried about that sort of thing, we had to rise above it, to know that we would get over whatever lay in our paths, we would succeed – look what I had done in the two weeks, the fortnight, I had been in England.  It was a meteoric rise, there was no reason why this setback should stop me now, and I had antonio to give me a leg up.

 

 

“Toni, I’m sorry”.  his face softened, he stopped holding back as much as he had done.  He crouched down to tlook me face to face, eye to eye and he said.  In his wonderful smooth voice

 

“No.  I’m Sorry.”  And his smile – oh his smile – it was perfection, as if an angel was there showing me paradise on his lips.

 

“Hey”  It was all I had to say. I ruffled his hair and he placed his hand on my back.

 

 

More music began and for another unknowable length of time, once more I was lost in Toni until Iwas rudely awaoken

 

 

“You bitch!”

 

“Pardon.” I spun around, halfway across the room Rebecca was standing, looking on a gloating smile tempered with a mock aire of concern for her friend on her face.  And standing, looking at us was Harry.

 

“Harry?”

 

“Don’t harry me”  It appeared Harry had been taught english by the same people who gave my mother her collection of meaningless sentence fragments

 

“What the hell are you doing” she continued.  “I thought you were Carries friend.  I thought you didn’t want Antonio”

 

“no look”, Antonio tried to place himself between Harry and me.  It was sweet, he was trying to do the whole action hero bit, defend my honour.  “Its not her fault.”

 

“get ut the way you basterd, I’ll deal with you once I’ve found out how Loren could betray me like this”

 

“Betray you?” I stammered.  I was stammering, Harry was being totally forthright, not a shadow of the little timid harriet at all.  I coughed and spluttered.  Kim and michael had come over now, along with rebecca, all glaring with the same level of vengence.

 

“Betray all of us” rebecca backed Harry up.  This wasn’t about logic, it was aboutr emotion, some barrier I hadn’t quite managed to overcome.  It was too soon, there was no way I could have an argument and belittle Carrie because she wasn’t here.  She was the victor of every argument by default.

 

“Don’t blame her” Antonio tried again.  It was good of him to try, but really he wasn’t important.  he would have to deal with michael later – but assuming Kim didn’t have a total grip on his mind, there peobably wouldn’t be much to worry about there.  Men didn’t have to worry about this torrent of emotion which burrowed deep down into my heart.  Should I stand my ground or tunr and run.  The former seemed like the new Loren.  if I stood and fought maybe, just maybe I would win one of them over.   Harry would understand.  Someone would understand.  Someone.

 

 

Harry didn’t seem to understand.  I heard about how Carrie looked after her when she had finsihed with a particularly painful breakup.    Carrie was, by all accounts a living saint, and I was a foul temptress, a succubus to destroy Carrie.  Now rebecca had the smarts to know I was up to something, it was Harry who could keep me from ever regainign any ground.  There was no sane defence I could play.  Antonio went to put his arm around my shoulder, to show that he still cared, but how would that help me.  Everyone knew that Toni was a bastard now, and even though he was fantastic, I couldn’t quite bear his touch against my skin.  Not at the moment, not with everything else.

 

 

And I was no longer the strong confident Loren.  I reverted.  I felt Loren’s strength fade from my body, that I was back to being my momie little Loren.  The tears that had been building up finally began to flow, the run like torrents.  I knew just how I had made rebecca feel.  Precisely how she had felt.  And my only recourse was to copy her actions.

 

 

I turned.

 

 

Spun around.

 

 

Shrugged Antonio away from me

 

 

And sped for the backstage door, headed to the safty of a private room where I could have some time to think about everything that had happened, and perhaps find someone willing to trade lives with me.

 

 

Chapter 34 Sex, Drugs and Rock and Roll

 

 

Sometimes time stands still because you are in a moment of bliss and your body and soul need to experience every subtlty that occurs, you need to record every though, feeling emotion and touch for posterity.  there are other times where seconds take enterities to tick by.  These times are prolonged because god is a sadist.  As I sat there I watched the clock on the wall and followed the second hand as it circled around the face.  In each second, universes could have been created and destroyed.  After a few minutes I had falled fully into a pile of tears, there was nothing but my melancholoy around.  I had sunk down into the warmth of a large comfortable soft sofa.  Crying, frustated, not thinking, I don;t know if I just fell asleep or if I vblocked out the pain that followed but my memory of what has happened has faded away.

 

 

I was woken from my slough of dispond by a warm hand, caressing my fingertips.  Antonio carfully lifted my hand and kissed it gently.  I hardly responded, the effort of moving with the weight i was bearing was too much for me.  Antoni sat down.  His hair was still messed from where I had ruffled it earlier.  I tried my hardest to smile, and I like to think he could see the effort, the token gesture because he smiled back.  I must have been a mess.  The makeup had taken an inordinate ammount of time to apply, now my tears must have washed it away.  Toni didn’t seem to mind, he just place his arm around my shoulder -tentatively at first, wondering if I was going to shrug him away again, then more firmly until he was holding me.  And then I was being held, it was like no matter how bad everything was, no matter how terrible everyhting was goig to be when Toni finally let me go, at the moment there was someone there who would make sure everyhting was all right.

 

 

Jed and the classix came in after the show.  I had had time to do some basic maintenence work on my face, thanks to Toni’s handkerchief and the contents of my handbag.  Jed hadn’t seen what had happened, and he was stunned to see me in the state I was.  He offered to go and get Julia, but that was the last thing I needed, more judging.

 

 

“Well guys, It was going to be a party – the show was neat, but now.  Well it seems more like I wake in here.  I say we try and cheer the girl up.  Loren,” he looked at me.  I dabbed my right eye, which was still puffy red and glaring out that I had been crying to the world, with toni’s handkerchief again. “You do like champagne”

 

“Um yeah” I lied.  I hadn’t actually ever had champagne before.  Still, I accepted the glass – I didn’t want Jed to desert me too.  I took a gingerly sip, a waft of yeast blew up my nose and the bubbles burth against my tounge.  Maybe it was th efact that shapagne and grapefruit flavoured vodka don’t minx.  Maybe champagne and destruction of your entire life don’t mix .  Whatever, it wasn’t relally my thing, but Jed was smiling, hoping I was plaeased.  I struggled to make a smile back.

 

“hey, everyone” Jed turned tot he others, who were pretty much ignoring us “Shes back”.  A couple of people looked around, they didn’t seem quite as interested as I was.  Maybe Jed wasn;t that big a star – he certainly didn’t seem to have any flunkies.

 

 

And so while others wandered around the room, talking, and occasionally being brought over to Jed to meet me, all the while music blaring in from the front of the club, I sat with Toni in silence.  Not entirely in silence, it was more a hared understanding, a bonding moment of quiet togetherness.  Antonio began to massage my shoulders, which realeased some of the tension which was preventing me from getting ymself back together.  I had felt his touch before, but he was really good at that too.

 

 

“You need to relax more”

 

“Just carry on – that’ll do the trick.”

 

“No, really relax.  Wait”  Tonio obviously had a bright idea, he strode across the room to where Jed was standing and the two had a chat.  I didn’t hear quite what they had to say, but Toni was clearly successful as the two returned

 

 

“Toni here says you’re in need of a little relaxation” Jed said.  I nodded.  Jed reacheing into his jacket and pulled out a small celophane bag and shock it.  I didn’t quite understand

 

“Some blow?” Toni asked me

 

“Northern lights, we got it in amsterdam” Jed added

 

Grass, Marjuana.  Drugs.  I knew I had been told something about drugs, something along the lines of don’t do them.  That it was wrong to do drugs.  That people who did drugs wound up as addicts with their lives ruined.  That people who did drugs were immensly cool like popstars and characters in irvin welsh novels.  Perhaps my parents didn’t tlell me the last line, I forget.  Anyway, my life was already runined, and Jed seemed to think it would help, Toni seemed to think it would help, and I was being treated as a guest, how could I possibly refuse.

 

“Well?” Jed asked

 

“Sure.”

 

Jed pulled a ciggarette paper from his pocket and tipped some of the grass onto it.  With a deft flick of his wrist he began to rub the sides of the paper back and forth, rolling the paper into a cylinder.  He twisted one end, and attached to other to a pin withing a little golden clip.  Toni looked a Jed questioningly

 

“The american way.  We don’t bother cutting with tobacco.  Watch out kid, its stronger”

 

Jed placed the joint to his lips, sucked in and lit the tied end.  He inhaled deeply, then stoon there motionless for a few seconds before exhaling.  “Good god” he mouthed, then handed it to me.

 

 

I examined the joint carefuly, looking it over.  The clip was small and intricatly formed, it was shaped like a swan.  I thought back at how I had dreamed of the day I would take a romantic ride in a swn boat.  How my life had changed int the past month.  Jed looked at me expectantly, realising that he was probably wondering what sort of loser I was for being nervous I put the joint to my mouth and sucked in.  The smoke burnt the back of my throat on the way down.  I tried my hardest not to cough, but failed.  Breathing deeply I passed the joint on to Toni.

 

 

“You know, you people are cool”

 

“Us people” I asked

 

“Yeah, americans.”

 

“ah”

 

 

Antonio,  Antonio Giovani Capprelli saw me as a minority.  It was funny really, but he was sweet and he tought we were cool.  he thought I was cool.  And I have to admit as he inhaled the sweet white smoke, he too looked pretty sophisticated.  Jed and a couple of the guys ended up sitting in a semi circle on the floor in front of us while Toni and I hogged the couch, we talked and laughed, Jed sang a couple of the new songs he was working on and we passed the joint around, anti-clockwise – deosil according to Jed, he was writing a song about that too: “the deosil dance” or something.  We spoke about Boston quite a bit – he knew where I grew up, he had wlaked along lots of the same streets I had – in fact he pointed out that the clip was a lot like the swan boats on the common too.  He treated me like an adult, not like Mum and dad who constantly wanted to make sure I was sweetened up before they approached me, here I was allowed to be who I was, people were listening to my opinions and respecting them for their content.  When i wrote back to some of my old friendsin Boston they would never belive was was happening here.  I giggled, then I had to explain why I was giggleing, and that only made all of us laugh a lot more.  It may not sound funny to you, but it was to us at the time, and the present was all that mattered to us then, the things that had happened an hour or so before were forgotten, and the future, grima s it had seemed now didn’t appear to be quite as close – wh were holding it off, creating, as Jed put it “A sacred space where noone and nothing can harm us”

 

 

One by one they left, Jed wanted to get an early night (he confided that to me about gales of laughter at about 3am) and a few others wanted to got out and dance.  I just wanted to lie on the the couch and look at the bright lights which shon in throught he window from the street outside.  Toni was content to watch me, I had this vague impression that he was sitting there considering how lucky he was to have found the sort of exciting girl who could make friends like these so easily – at least, that was what i wanted to think, and I allowed all other thoughts to be blocked out of my mind.

 

 

“Hey Lori” Toni said eventually

 

“Loren” I replied dreamily

 

“Loren.  You know everyone has gone?”

 

“Yeah”

 

“We’re alone”

 

“Mmm.  The lights are nice”

 

He looked at them with me for a moment “Yeah.”

 

Toni pressed his lips against mine, I responded in kind, and opened my mouth to allow our tounges to explore one another.  It was a different experience, I had far less control and all my senses were heightened by what I had smoked.  Ocassionally I felt the urge to laugh, but I had enough will power to contoll myself, just in case it would hurt Toni’s feelings.  Toni certainly didn’t seem to be hurt – perhaps even now I was an actress extraoridairre, he just hugged me more firmly, lifting my body in his arms, supporting the both of us.  Then he relaxed his grip and began to run one hand down my back, softly and tenderly.  He pecked my cheek, and then began to trail kisses down by neck and around the base of my throat.

 

 

I felt a flick of his fingers, and then a loosenign around my shoulders.  At first I wasn’t aware what had happened, just that Toni was changing how I flt about everything.  Then I felt the sleeve of my top loosen too.  He was unbuttoning my shirt.  I wasn’t sure I was in a condition to do anything about it, but I pulled away

 

“What are you?”

 

“Loren, chill, its all cool”

 

“Toni I love you but”

 

“Then you want to show me how much”

 

“I want to show you but I don’t want this”

 

Toni grasped my by the shoulders and began peeling the front of my dress away from my skin.  I so wanted to please him, and I knew I would enjoy whatever followed, but it just wasn’t right, I wasn’t clear headed, the drink and the grass were confusing my mind, how could I know what I felt.

 

“No.  Not tonight”  I pulled myself away and tried to get the straps of my dress back up over my shoulders

 

“Don’t be such a teese” Toni twisted around me, placing one leg on either side of mine, straddling me and looking deep into my eyes.  I couldn’t move.  I tried to push him back, but he seemed better at this game than I was.  this wasn’t a game.  This was me, he was taking away my right to choose, and who knows what I would have choosen on any other night.

 

“no” I repeated, but less forcefully.  He might hurt me if he didn’t get his own way

 

“She said no”.  jed?  No not an american accent.  Antonio jumped up and spun around “Hey we were playing, there was nothing…”

 

“Save it.”  My saviour was Sam aided by Julia who was clinging to his arm

 

“I hoped I might find you here.  Do you want to go?”

 

“Yes.”  yes I did.  Safe with Sam.. sam the safe man safty.  We walked out through the back exit and I was violently and noisily sick.

 

 

Chapter 35

 

 

I woke up with a headache and a pain in the neck.  The headache was caused by the drinking and smoking (what any reporter worth his sort would describe as a cocktail of drugs, probably conveniently forgetting that if alcholhol counts as a drug then any cokctail is a cocktail of druga).  The pain in the neck was my mother.  Thankfully Mom was unaware of my vomitting, but still she knew I had returned worse for wear far far later in the evening than cerfew allowed. Even before Julia had had a chance to awaken from her own personal drink enduced slumber, I was grounde.  As Mom put it:

 

 

“You’re not going to see the outside of this house except for school until you’re… middle aged”

 

 

But, of course the problem with that sort of hyperbole was that the punishment wasn’t really enforcable – infact it was technically against human rights.  Mom would keep me in afor a day or two, but ultimately dad would convince her to give in and I would be free – it would probably be even easier if Julia wasn’t significantly punished.  What was a problem was that Mom had a strong desire to lecture mem on precisely what it was i had done wrong.  It was my last day before school began and all I wanted was to hide away from the light and nurse myself back to health, perhaps find out just how badly I had faired – if there was anyone who ever wanted to speak to me again.

 

 

“You know that dad and I were frantic?  We didn’t know where you were, we didn’t have any way of contacting yu and when you didn’t come back we thought anyrthing could have happened.  Then Gladys told us that you were going to a club!  You know you’re underage, what the hell did you think you were doing, was there any chance you realised how dangerous is is to get drunk in the middle of a city you don’t know.  You shouldn’t even be drinking, at your age I would have never even considered…”

 

 

As you can guess, she went on a bit.  I just nodded and made an attempt to look remorseful.  Looking remourseful wasn’t hard.  I felt remorse – not that I had betrayed Mom – she was, after all, keeping a secret which she admitted I had a right to know from me and anyway, she didn’t need to worry about me, like Gladys kept saying, if she was worried that was her own problem.  No the remorse I felt was that I had drunk so much that I had lost control of the situation – and that with the dry mouth and burning eyes I had this morning I had still not entirely regained a level head.

 

 

Upstairs Julia began to move around, and Mom seemed to have bored of repeating herself over and aover again about why not informing her of eveything I did and drink was in someway worse that torturing kittens and was heading towards the the hob and her hot chocolate boiling pan.  I could sware mom’s cocoa solids consumption must have gone up my many hundreds of percent since she had got access to an easy supply rather than just the megre offerings Gladys had provided us with while we were in boston.  I took this opportunity to escape back to the saftey of our room.  When Julia heard me, she rushed back to the bedroom

 

 

“Oh my god Loren, are you Okay?  You look terrible”

 

Gee thanks.  So nice of you to point that out. You yourself look… just like normal.  Bitch.

 

“Bit of a headache”

 

“Hungover” there was a note of sympathy in the sickly sweet syrup that was her voice

 

“Just a bit”

 

“I don’t get hangovers”

 

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again.  Bitch.

 

“but you’re Okay?”

 

“Yeah, I s’pose”

 

Julia looked me straight in the eye.  Her right eyelid flickered somewhat.  She was concerned – perhaps she was going to have a go at me about arranging the whole charade which got her together with Sam.  Or about my deserting her.  Or more likely now that i was more sober she was going to have to have a go at me about Carrie

 

“Antonio, toni?” she queried, softly.

 

Great.  It was the Carrie thing.  I had hoped that she might have forgiven me or something.  Apparently not.

 

“I was stupid and cruel.  It was wrong of me, but Toni and Carrie were going to break up, and it wasn’t like i was trying to flaunt it in front of her”

 

“I don’t care abiout Carrie”

 

“You don’t”

 

“Know I care about you.  Antonio tried to rape you last night”

 

“Pardon?”

 

And then it hit me.  I hadn’t really considered it, I had just kept saying no, and he had kept insisting – quite violently, I suppose.  It hadn’t felt like rape, more a heated discussion.  But Rape was a perfectly reasonable word, it described the situation perfectly,  You hear about people using drugs and alcholhol to get women more complient and about things like Date rape, but you never suspect they are really going to happen to you.  And now Toni.  And I hadn’t even thought.

 

 

I cried.  And once I had started crying I couldn’t stop.  This wasn’t the disparing depressive crying of last night, this was pure rage and relief and confusion – it wasn’t that crying was the right reaction, but rather that I had nthing better that I could do.  No way to express what I was feeling.

 

 

“You’re not going to tell…”

 

“Not if you don’t want me to” Julia reassured me.  And thatw as the thing about JUlia, say what you like about her (and I do, frequently) but she was nice.  Now nice is a pointless word (Sam would probably hate it as much as sweet), but it summed Julia up.  When it comes to being the sort of bland, uncomplicated persone who just looks after you as you recover from realising just how bad your life was, what you need around you is nice.

 

 

Chapter 36

 

 

And then there was school.  After everything that happened it wasn’t the old, boring Loren that walked in there, nor was it the confident powerful, totally in control Loren.  It was  new girl – somewhat lost somewhat confused finding her feet in what seemed like a maze.  When there are so many people around you all the time, it is odd to feel so alone.  Julia was there to give me words of encouragement, and Sam, Sam came over to me when Carrie wasn’t aorund.  It must have been hard for him, but at least he understood.  Quite what he understoon I would never know, but in Sam world what I had done hadn’t destroyed our friendship.  Sam had a good heart, he was the sort of person I knew I could rely on.

 

 

Everyone else – well most of them were strangers, but every so often I saw the face of Carrie or Toni or Rebecca or Kim amongst them, talking or laughing.  Sometimes they would look over at me, then quickly turn away when I glanced in their direction.  Who knows what stories they were spreading about me.  Was I already known to everyone as a manipulative bitch?  What else could I expect?  All I could do was plod on, and hope for the odd quizical smile from someone who hadn’t heard the full extent of what I had done.  No.  There was more to it than that.  I had to make myself popular again, uncle Mack wouldn’t have let me get away with feeling sorry for myself – he would want me back on my feet, learning exactly who I am, building myself up again after a fall.  I was still alive, I wasn’t out yet, and there was still Julia and Sam.

 

 

And, little did I know it, but there was also Toni.  It was lunchtime when he came over to me.  I was stitting alone at the table – I couldn’t expect julia and sam to spend all their time with me, and I needed a bit of breathing space, to work out what move I was going to make next.  I had considered flicking through “The Principles” but it was a bit public – if anyone knew the secret of my success.  Success – ha!  Still, I only had myself to blame.So I sat there, idly stirring a spoon around in my yoghurt, not really thinking about anything.  In the distance there were a few boys kicking a bag agound, I watched and wondered if the bad felt as bad as me.  Probably not, people were palying attention to the bag, there was probably at least one person who loved the bag and would come looking for it eventually – rescue it.

 

 

There was a nervous tap on my shoulder.  I must have jumped a foot out of my chair – I certainly let out a small shreik

 

“Woah Loren”.  It was antonio.  He wasn’t the same confident person he had been last night, during the holiday – he looked a bit smalled under his school uniform (school uniform – if anyone had pointed that particular British tradition out to me I may well have made a bit more of a fuss before leaving the US, still it avaoided a good number of problems).

 

“i’m not sure I have anything to say to you”.  I tried to brush him off, hoped he would just wander away and offer me an easy life.  That was too optimistic even for me.

 

“I wanted to talk.”

 

“Talk?” I wasn’t impressed.

 

“I wanted to say sorry.”

 

Damn.  All the while Toni was a bastard he was easy to dismiss, but now he had said sorry.  His eyes were slanted and wide.  Deep puppy dog eyes which looked down at me, pleeding for forgiveness.  How could I fail to forgive him when he looked like that?

 

“Sorry?”  All I could do was parrot him. What did he mean by ‘sorry’ – was it just an excuse to get me to let him off the hook or was there something constructive he wanted to do?

 

“Yes Loren.  Sorry.  You can’t belive how incredibly sorry I am.  I shouldn’t have pushed you.  I was drunk and confused, I really thought you were giving me the signals, that youw anted it as much as I did”

 

Toni looked and sounded genuine – and maybe he was confused.  I certainly hadn’t been on top of my game that night, and there was a lot going on. Perhaps we do things differently in America, maybe I thought I was pushing him away when really I was leading him on.

 

“Well…”  I was unsure of what to do, but above everything else I needed to have people on my side.  Toni was people (well, at least a person).  He had a reasonable excuse.  But I kept comming back tot hose words Julia said.  ‘Rape’.  Was it really rape – it sounded so major, not just part of my every day life, and if it was then I was talking to and forgiving a rapist.  But looking at him, his hands behind his back, the slight fidget while he waited for me to give an answer.

 

“Oh, you’re forgiven”.  It was all I could think to say.  Toni wasn’t going to hurt me, he had made a mistake.  I had made a mistake.  We all make mistakes.  “I’m sorry too” I added.

 

“So…” toni had relaxed, his hands we moved back to his sides, his shoulders were far less hunched, and the light and sparkle had returned to his eyes.  “what about us?”

 

Us.  there was still an us.  Toni still wanted to have something to do with me – he wasn’t going to run from the new freak-girl everyone else saw.  I felt a tear building up in the corner of one of my eyes, I rubbed it in the hope of avoiding the tear running down my cheek.

 

“Lets see.  Toni – I want to take this slowly.  I want to be careful.”

 

“Yes” Toni replied. “Lets see”

 

Things suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

 

 

Chapter 37

 

 

The school day passed less badly from then on.  But still I wondered if I had done the right thing.  Antonio was gorgeous, and he was charming, he was exciting and he knew who it was he was, but I didn’t know if I would ever be comfortable around him.  With Sam and Julia I was able to talk and laugh.I didn’t have to worry about who or what they were.  Sam’s mind wasn’t on this world, but it was on a world which intersected with mine, and he made me think and wonder.  Antonio made me feel special, but sometimes the shivers than ran up my spine wern’t entirely good – it was like being at the top of a rollercoaster – there was an excitement, but it was tempered with fear and dread of whatever was going to come next.

 

 

But Sam was Julia’s boyfriend, and you had to admit they suited one another.  Everyone had been whispering about them – it had come as a bit of a shock to the school as a whole that Sam could be considered worthy of a woman like Julia – but fromt he way I saw them, it was jUlia who didn’t consider herself worthy of Sam.  Julia attaached herself to Sam whenever she could, as if she was holding him from getting away – clearly she had seen through to the Sam i found inside and didn’t want to let that insight escape her.  I could understand that – I mean there wasn’t a huge amount that hadf happened to me since I arrived within the UK, but Sam had been there from the beginning and well, if it wasn’t for his interevntion on Saturday night I don’t know what might have happened.  Julia deserved him.  I kept telling myself, she deserved him.  Really.

 

 

So I was surprised that when the day had finally ended and my survival for another night looked at least possible she was nowhere to be seen, but that Sam was  waiting alone at the gate

 

 

“No sign of Julia?”

 

“No sign.  That would be a sign of sorts too.  Not even one of them, no.”

 

“Are you meant to be meeting her?”

 

“Well, I assumed… I thought we would be walking back together, it doesn’t seem to make much sense otherwise”

 

“What doesn’t”

 

“Her telling me to meet her here.  She dashed off right out of french”

 

The reason we didn’t all just leave class   being that I was taking additional classes in Spanish while the rest of the school continued with Frech.  Mom had apparently made arrangements – it was nice to know the school could cope with someone making their lives a littel more diffciult

 

“I forgot you were in the last class together” An explantion for my gabbling seemed appropriate.  “so what happened to her”

 

“I’m not sure, we were walking to the lockers when she saw someone and ran towards them, shouting that tshe would meet me here”

 

“Who”

 

“No idea.”

 

“Was she upset?  You don’t think it was another man do you.  Billy?”

 

“I didn’t.  Now I do.  Billy?  Harriets friend from the garage?”

 

Well, that explained a few things – if Harry was able to make arrangements for Billy to have been busy or something it would explain how he had conveniently cancelled the date.  In fact it might have explained why Harry had been so keen to help me set Julia up with someone else.  The conniviving bitch.  Oh well, no matter what her motivations were, Sam was happy.  Or sam had been happy, untill I mentioned billy, now he was… less happy.  Sam wasn’t really the sort to get angry in a red-faced jumping up and down type of a way, nor was he the tearful type.  No Sam tried to rationalise his way back to samity, and that was what he was doing now.  Nevertheless there was a quivering at the back of his throat which betrayed his pain.

 

“Im sure it wasn’t Billy.  If theres one thing I’ve learned about JUlia, its that she’s nice”  And that, along with everything else was true.  Julia was a little princess, supremely confident with her own empire, but ultimately she was nice, warm considerate caring.  Hell, I had to convince her that it was OK for her to make a pass at a boy a friend might potntially have been considering.  Still, Sam didn’t look confused, he just carried on talking to himself as much as anywone else

 

“She must have to call things off and make her explanations.  That would be the right thing to do, or maybe she was avoiding him, although running off in his direction would be a bad way to do that, so paerhaps not but then again Julia isn’t like me she knows how to deal with people better, perhaps running directly at trouble with a kamakaze scream works better”

 

I gacve Sam a warm, caring, “I’m there for you” type of a hug.  It shut him up.  There is little in the world that firghtens me more than steam of conciousness from Sam.

 

“I’ll go off and see if I can find her, she’s probably around somewhere not too far away.  You hold on here in cas she turns up.  I’ll be back in ten minutes”

 

“Fine.”  Sam looked like he was about to retrun to his rationalizing, so I turned and fled in search of a better explanation.  One from the horses mouth.  Not that I would call Julia a horse, I was over that stage of my life.  Making sarky digs at Julia, the thought never entered my mind.  Oh no.  I just headed off, which was a shame, because I never caught the full senece Sam said abotu Antonio… in fact at that point I didn’t think I wanted to.  It was Julia I had to find.

 

 

In retrospect it should have been Sam who headed off around the school to find Julia.  If he was anything like me, he wouldn’t have deared, being scared of who he might find her with.  Me – I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do.  but what I wanted to do became clear – I wanted to stop being lost.  The school was still new to me, and I found it tricky to navigate my way around the corridoors of the building, haivng no real idea where Julia might actually be.  I returned after a prelongged treck to Find julia wating with Sam.  Or on sam – it was hard to find a preposition to drescribe thwe way Sam and JUlia were almost one entity when together.  At least Sam didn’t look worried about where his relatinship was going  any more.

 

 

It was hours before I had a chance to speak to him.  As Julia finally finished her prelongged goodbyes, I managed to escape from Mom (who was trying her hardest to enforce the grounding, by making me do my homework all the while Sam was here in an attempt to cruch my social life – not that they would have wanted me around, anyway)  Just as sam opened the door, Iwas able to call to him

 

“So, it wasn’t Billy then.”

 

“Err, no.”

 

“diud you see who she was with”

 

Sam came over to me and whispered “Yes, but don’t let Julia know – she would think I was spying on her.”

 

“You wern’t?”

 

“Well, I was – I noticed her aorund the corner from where she was going to meet me.  She was talking to… well I’m not quite sure who it was she was talking to, but it was that guy”

 

“What guy?” i asked.  Several people I knew, and a number I didn’t know could easilly fit Sam’s detailed description

 

“You know, the one from the club.  The one Rebecca was with.”

 

“What” I shouted, then recovered myself.  Julia was with Mack.  that was unexpected – what did Mack want with Julia?

 

“I think she might have set Rebecca up”

 

Well, let her take that fall – it didn’t seem unreasonable, and anyway, she owed me for my role as cupid to the stars.

 

“So, what were they saying?” I inquired, desperate the find out precisely what was going on.  had Julia used Mack’s book to make her way to the top of th epile, was the niceness I had foreseen all a cover for the mind of a cynical genius.  Well, perhaps that was pushing it a bit, but neverhteless, it was a possibility.

 

“I didn’t hear.  He looked a bit stresses and flustered.  Julia was all grave and concerned.  he handed her a letter, or something”

 

“A letter?”

 

“Yeah.  In a  pink envelope”

 

“Weird.”

 

“yeah”

 

And when you agree with sam that someone’s actions are weird, you know that there is little hope left for your mind.

 

Mom was heading towards us.

 

“Don’t say anything” sam reminded me

 

“I wont” I assured him, and showed Sam out of the house.  Then before mom could berate me for having a life I rushed upstairs to Julia’s room to see if I could find out what the letter was – without letting on that I knew Mack or that Sam had been spying on them.  it was going to be a tough one.  At least I thought it was, but as I entered Julia’s room I saw her quickly stuffing a pink envelope back into her school bag, and a look of shock on her face.

 

“you should have knocked”

 

“sorry.” I replied.  but I wasn’t.  I wanted to find out what was in that envelope, so I knew exactly what Julia and Mack had to do with one another.

 

 

Chapter 38

 

 

Mom had given up on the idea of Grounding me by the end of the week.  It had been a valient attempt on her part, one of her most successful goundings ever if truth be told, but still the gods were against her.  Perhaps she would find Grounding me easier if I wasn’t trying hard to make friends in a new country that I had been forced to against my will, and if my cousin who did exactly the same as me that evening hadn’t been living in the same house as me, totally free from punishment.  I resolved that once Iw aas living on my own I would have to become a better lier if I ever wanted to ejoy myself – its part of the game, i thought, I can lie to Mom, she can feel relaxed in the knowledge that I’m safe.  We never need to bother each others with the truth – it would only add to the stress that each of us felt.

 

 

Moreover, Antonio had invited me to go to the cinema with him.  I was nervous, but all week at school he had been there for me when I had wanted him, and away when I hadn’t.  Still, I was being unfair to him in this relationship, we needed a bit of give and take and a cinema was afe – being so close to him in a dark worm still made my spider-sense tingle but it was a public place, no matter how much I tried to worry myself, tell myself it was a bad idea, rationally it wasn;t.  And rationally antonio was still stunning looking.  No girl in their right mind would say no.  I said yes.  In fact I made a oohing nice and promised that I would lvoe to go to the cinema with him  I hope boys didg that sort of thing, he certainly puffed his chest out and looked all self-important, so i suppose I did something right.

 

 

I had arranged for Julia and Sam to come allong with us.  A double date, safty in numbers.  Toni was a bit put out when he found that out, but he nodded and went along with it.  In the dark of the cinema, I pointed out, there was no need to even know they were there.  I gave him a sweet smile, and he grinned back towards me.  I hadn’t expected the arrival of Carrie, Kim and Michael.  Julia had obviously told them what was happenieng iwthout thinking.  I tried to Tell Antonio that this wasn’t what I wanted, and I think he believed me, but I couldn’t be sure.  Why would I have wanted Carrie here, of all people.  I could see the way she glared at TOni and I as we shared a coke and some popcorn (note to self – absolutely no butter popcorn in british cinemas, by importing butter sauce for popcorn I could make millions of pounds).  At least, I thought to myself, I wouldn’t see her when we were in the cinema and she wouldn’t see me.  there would be some space.  Why did Julia think it would be a good idea to inviter her along, did she really think there might be some form of moving reunion, that it would be possible we could ever be friends – ever be anything other than mortal enemies.  I had nothing against carrie myslef, but what I had done to her, it wasn’t the sort of thing that being in the same movie theatre as me for an hour or two was going to wash away.

 

 

As a sop to those who bravely kept Julia and I company throught the Julia roberts movie, this time we had chosen to experienct the boy’s choice – a combination of guns, fast cars and mobile phone product placement.  To sumarrise (and avoid the need to fully explain sam’s long diatribe about why action movies arn’t meant to be realistic, they’re meant to be well paced and drag the viewer along before he has time to notice the blatently obvious plot holes) Boy met girl.  Girl turned out to be spy for international conspiracy.  Boy defeats international conspiracy with the aid of the new ford mondeo, available from all ford dealers in your local area.  Girl, miraculously converted away from the cause she has believed in all her life sleeps with boy.  Boy mutters glib one liner.  The end.  However, that isn’t something I found out through watching the film, that was a guess based on the fact all these films are carbon copy identikit dramas (and the fact the hero had been driving a ford mondeo in early scenes…  it could so easily have been a film focusing on a mercedes or BMW helping the hero save mankind, thats the sort of thing that just keeps you guessing in this type of film).  About half way through things went awry.

 

 

They had begun so well, I was sharing my drink with Antonio, playfully fighting with our individual straws as the trailers played.  Every so often after the film began we would reach into the popcorn bucket and our hands would fleetingly touch, sending electricity sparking down my spine.  We might look at each other and in the blackness of the cinema be unsure, but hopeful about what the other was thinking.  As about the stage where boy had to choose between spending time with girl and his job at the CIA Toni slipped his arm behind my back, just under where my shoulderblades were rested upon the seat.  I jiggled to get more comfortable, but I certainly didn’t spurn his advance.  It was more comfortable this way, just slowly, gradually getting back to understand ne another.

 

 

Apparently Toni didn’t feel the same way.  As boy was speeding around on a motorbike, proving that a man on a motorbike is unaffected byt the bullets fired from machine guns by four highly skilled and trained assassins, Toni beant over to kiss me.  I pulled my face away – I was nervous – even this seemed a little too fast (and anyway, I was a bit drawn into the subplot as to whether the bad guy had chosen a nokia or erikkson mobile phone).  Toni withdrew, but by the time the bike had gone careening into the east river and boy was hanging by one hand from a railing, he returned.  As Toni moved in for a kiss, I decided that, it wasn’t waht I wanted, but it was going to be a recurring theme – I didn’t want to make a scene and upset everyone elses enjoyment of the movie.  In particualr I didn’t want to increase Carries enjoyment of the movie by adding a romantic comedy subplot.  So I rewarded toni with a short, gentle but dismissive peck on the lips.  I don’t think he was too happy with that.

 

 

Perhaps he thought it was romantic.  Toni placed one hand on my shoulder furthest away from him, he leant over my body so that my chest was rubbing against his own.  Perhaps he didn’t quite conceive how uncomfortable this was for me – not just physically, though the bulk of his waght pushing me into the arm of the cinema chair was quite painful enough, but also psychologicallty- this man had gone too far a week ago, and now here he was again pressuging me.  His lips touched mine, but there was none of the genlte frission which accomapniewd our hands touching in the popcorn, and I experienced none of the passion I had felt when the world stopped in the club.  Now it was just his desire to dominate, and my inabillity to refuse.  He opened his mouth and began the investigate my lips with his tounge, searching for an opening.  I kept my lips and teeth firmly closed.  It’s times like this God decides to throw a spanner into the works, to really test us, or perhaps liven up an evenings entertainment when the only alternative would be bad saturday evening television.

 

 

I coughed.  And spluttered.  And any genelteman would have backed off ands asked if I was OK, perhaps pass over the coke we had been sharing.  Or perhaps leap on your face like a frezied dog and begin passionatly kissing, as if your cough had been some sort of implicit admission that you wanted your boidiour invaded.  It was not what I had expected.  I just shouted No, pushed Toni back got up and started to leave the cinema.  Not having chosen a seat net to an aisle, that meant I had to get a line of people already pretty ticked off at me for interrupting the scene where girl found out that villain had actually killed her father and wasn’t as nice as she had thought.  You’re entire sense of self worth can really be shattered by one room full of people making “tuch” noises and looking at you with a withering you – are – beneath – my – contempt – but – still – have – some – contempt – anyway sort of a look.  A cinema official flashed a flashlight at my feel.  I think she was trying to be helpful – if not to me, at least to the audience who wanted a better view of their new found figure of hatred.

 

 

I rushed to the bathroom.  I didn’t look back.  Which meant I didn’t see who had followed me.

 

 

Bathrooms – or shoudl I say public conveniences or toilets or something? – are all the same in cinemas.  They try to look white and sterile, but fail because with the throughput of people they;re just bound to get grimey.  And unlike eatisg establishments or shopsm cinemas arn’t concerned with their image, how they are portrayed to the public, all the cinema cares about if getting asses on seats (the phrase getting bums on seats ammuses me – it sounds like the policy of a really proactive homeless shelter… not that asses on seats is much better unless you enjoy a particualrly weird form of animal training), the experience is provided by the film, not the surroundings, so as long as minimal attention is paid to comfort and convenience, so what?  The mirror, as a result of this was streaked with soap marks, but nevertheless beyond them my reflection looked awful.  I scooped up water from the pressure applied taps and tried to splash it on my face.  Other women walked past to and the fom the cubicles and stared at me, like i was afreak.  I let them carry on in their belief – there was no way they could know, and any rational attempt to think about what had happened just left me concluding that I had made a mountain out of a mole hill.

 

 

After a few minutes I left the bathroom – ready to face the world for long enough to get back home.  Carrie was standing there.  I turned to go back into the bathroom, lock myself into a cubcal, but then it registered, the look on her face wasn’t one of anger, or of glorious gloating victory.  Carrie looked concerned:

 

“Loren.  I’m probably the last person you want right now, but I think we should talk”

 

What could I say?  Carrie had done nothing wrong throughout everything.  Even if she wanted to gloat, she deserved the chance – and there wouldn’t be anyone else around to hear.  I said nothing, but in silently followed her to the cafe in the foodhall – the cafe where we had first met, what seemed like decades ago.

 

 

“So.” I said when she handed me a tall cup of steaming black coffee.

 

“So.” She replied.  Carrie clearly hadn’t thought this one through.  “Toni” she said

 

“Antonio” I replied.  It was a very stilted conversation, neither of us wnated to give anyhting away, try not to say anything which would allow each other to gain the advantage

 

“What did he do” she asked

 

“Nothing.  It was me”

 

I don;t think Carrie belived me.  She rolled up her sleeve and showed me a large brown bruise.  It was old, on its way to healing, but it was real and it must have hurt.

 

“Did he hurt you?”

 

“No.  he just tried… he just wanted”

 

“He pushed his luck?”

 

“Yeah.” I nodded

 

“And you walked away”

 

“Yeah.  I know, I’m a  tease, I’m frigid”

 

“You’re a better woman than me”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“He always has some excuse.  You wind up hating him for pressuring you, but there is something addictive you just want to hold onto, to keep for your own”

 

“His eyes”

 

“His Hair”

 

“His smile”

 

“When I said no a few weeks ago, he got angry”

 

“Oh Carrie, I’m so sorry” I reached over towards her

 

“That must have been when he called you”.  I looked down at the table.  I couldn’t hold my gaze at Carrie any longer.

 

“Its alright.  You did me a favour really.  Got me over him.”

 

“You don’t look like you’re over him”

 

“The wounds havn’t quite healed”.  She rolled her sleve down.  “tahts why I didn’t go to the party, but Sam did.  I was worried about TOni and Sam wanted to spend some time with you”

 

“With me?”

 

“you know, the crush”

 

“That was Julia, wasn’t it”

 

“Sam’s known Julia for years, really, he never followed her around like he did you.  I’m as shocked as anyone that those two are together – it really must have taken a miricle”

 

“I think I may have had some influence”

 

“Sam said as much.  You know, I still think he considers Julia second best – as a way of getting closer to you”

 

“You know, Carrie, I’m going to be honest here.  i don’;t know if I can believe a word of what you say, I dont know whats goign on or how I’m feeling right now.  But thanks, I think.  Can we ever be friends?”

 

“Possibly.  Just possibly.  look after youself – I think I might be able to catch the end”

 

“Boy kills villain a and saves girl from certain death after a series of minor setbacks” I called after he, but I don;t think she heard me.

 

 

Chapter 39

 

 

I returned home alone.  There was no point in waiting alone in the food hall cafe, and returning inside would only expose me to Antonio, and more of the plot.  I didn’ty know where I stood with Carrie, and if what she was saying was true then I was confused.  Sam wanting me, when he had the opportunity to go out with Julia.  It didn’t make sense, nothing made sense.  Brits are weird and confused, it’s the only rational explanation.

 

 

There was nobody in, so I let myslef, loren the perennial Latch-key kid, in.  The house seemed bigger with nobody about, empty.  There was no signs of Life, mom must have been on a tidying kick before she and dad went out because everything was carefully piled up in boxes, or neatly put away.  It was less like a house, more like a osundstage trying to look like a house.  The TV I notice had been rolled back so that it was parallel to the wall, but not actually in a position where you could casually watch it while sitting on the couch.  Master of all things clenliness related mom might be, but she hadn’t mastered ergonomics.

 

 

I retreated upstairs to my room in the hope that it had avoided the whirlwind cleanign of Mother, and was thankful to see things strewn across the floor in the hodge – podge fashion in which I had left them.  My books were now piled up neatly beside my bed, a few of them carfully bookmarked at the position I had last finsihed reading them.  There was a glass of water, still half undrunk from the previous night, not yet rinsed out, and numerous empty mughs, some showing the stains of coffee, others the black sludge from the bottom of hot chocolate.  I really hated to think what that was doing to my weight.  I resolved that I would have to diet, sometime, when I got araound to it – perhaps after all this settling in had finished and my life returned to normal… maybe after I had finished high school, or perhaps university.  nevertheless, one day I would really and honestly start to diet.

 

 

Julia, for her part was a little more ordered – her CDs were all tidied away in a rack, her makeup lined up in front of her vanity mirror, her bed made and her schoolbag perched on top of it.  Her school bag, the thought hadn’t occured to me until i saw it, and it was a long shot, it had been a week since I last saw the letter, but that was where she had left it, perhaps it would still be inside.  There was nobody in the house to find me, and I was sure I would hear any key in the front door, and could have the bag away and tidy before Julia reached this room – there was absolutely no way I could be discovered so I delved inside – after all, its not a crime unless you’re found out, is it?

 

 

I dug deep into the bag, worked my way past textbooks, folders and pads of paper.  Julia had that irritating square bubbly handwriting, just as prim and perfect as herself – I must admit it looked like she put more thought and effort into constructing eacha nd evey one of her characters than she did in building coherent sentences.  if she was taking Uncle Mack’s advice to hide her intlligence she was obviously trying to hide it not only from her friends but also fromt he educational establishment and perhaps the world at large.  Thatw as a bit excessive, wasn’t it?  Perhaps she wasn’t siding with  mack yet, but then why was she talking to him at all.  I was dispariring of ever making any sense of what was going through her mind, until I found it, at the bottom, underneath the flap of plastic that formed the bag’s base and kept its shape, hidden from view.

 

 

It was still sealed.

 

 

Writing on the front, clearly not Julia’s, read

 

 

For Julia.

 

Private.

 

Not to Be Opened Until november 30th.

 

 

november 30th, the day before my birthday.  Well, Julia was taking Mack’s instruction’s seriously, she had kept the envelope unopened.  I wasn’t sure I could do the same, after all, forwarned is forarmed, and perhaps it would let me know something about Julia – or at least how or why she knew Mack.  Was this all something to do with the big secret my pareents were keeping from me?  My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a key turning in the door below.  I replaced the letter securly at the bottom of the bag and returned everything as closly to itas previosu position as I could.  I had just grabbed the closest book to hand and was reclining noncelently on my bed when Julia entered the room.  I think some people have the ability to sense when something is not right, perhaps it was the furtive glance at her I made when she came in, or maybe the way I was reading my book upside down.  It is always possible she had head me scamble across the floor, but anyway there was nothing in the room to make her suspect there was anything wrong, and she had bigger things on her mind

 

 

“Carrie told me what happened”

 

I tried not to betray any emotion, who knew what it was Carrie had told her

 

“She did?” I asked.  It was cautious, and rang a little false in my ears, but I coudl think of nothing

 

“You’re better off without him, you know.”

 

I nodded.  She was right.  I was certainly better off without Antonio.  I would be better off with Sam.  It was all so clear now

 

 

Chapter 40

 

 

All so very clear.  I had a new goal, Loren was back, and this time she would win.  Julia had no qualms abotu steelign Sam away from another girl, why shouldn’t I have Sam for my own – if it really is what he wants, then I’ll be doing him a favour, I’l be doing Julia a favour too, there can’t be much worse than having a boyfriend who spends all his time thinking about a close reletive of yours – and I must be about the only person who has ever really got Sam, found myway inside his mind, understood what it is that makes him click.  There were times i thought I might even be thinking about him, it was all too perfect – it was the way things were meant to be, that was all there was to it.  None could stop me know.  heh!  Uncle Mack’s letter was probably a card of condolences!

 

 

In order for my success, I had to plan ahead.  Sam had morals – it was one of the things I liked about him, he really cared about others – and as such, while Toni was still in the picture there was no way on earth Sam would even begin to consider the possibility of dating me.  There was also the matter of Julia – I assumed from their lovey – dovey behaviour that Sam had made a commitment towards Julia, I had to find some reason for him to break that.  If I wasn’t reason enough, which, to be frank, seemed unlikely.  I had no clue as to how I would go about this, but things would turn up, I was confident, they always had in the past.  I needed a public situation, where I would be safe from whatever comeback occured.  School – it was sensible.

 

 

Julia had made it clear to me that everyone was on my side, that Toni was clearly to blame.  He had crpet out of the cinema without being able to defend his case, and Carrie had sided with me from the start, even when Kim suggested that I had still behaved unconsionably Carrie had pointed out that Toni was likely to have been the agressor.  Who was I to deny that?  Little sweet Loren deliberately trying to pull apart a group of friends from the inside?  Noone would ever belive that.  Never.  So I had everything arranged – lunchtime, an audience who were all on my side (or at least far from on Toni’s side, which was what really mattered and most of all, I had the power or moral indignation – it was politically incorrect to side with anyone other than the woman in a case like this.  Thank god for the nineteen sixties.

 

 

With everything arranged, I pretty much looked forward to Lunch.  For the first time I felt I could honestly sit with the others, Sam and Julia kept me company and even Harry was prepared to say a few words to me, letting me know she was sorry that things hadn’t worked out, even if I did deserve the outcome.  I nervously fingered my salad, and eyed Julia’s chips enviously as I waited for TOni to come past.

 

 

“Toni”, I called out to him, eagerly.  He spun around ont he spot then jolted as he realised a noncolant stroll would be better than his mad dash towards me.

 

“Loren”

 

“I said I wanted to take it slowly”

 

“We were.”

 

“well” I had been saving this line up ever since I began thinking about this moment “We;ll be taking it even more slowly from now on.  I don’t think we shoudl see each other any more”

 

 

In my imagination it had acheived a round of applause, or even a standing ovation, but noone really seemed to take any notice – it hadn’t had quite the dramatic effect I had been hoping for.  All in all it had been a bit of a let down.

 

 

“I told you we were through at the cinema” Ah cute, he wanted to make it look like he had been the dumper, not the dumpee

 

“As if”

 

“Why would I want to hang out with someone frigid like you.  I thought you were meant to be sophisticated and unihibited in America, but you’re worse than Carrie”

 

“Excuse me?” But I could see more clearly now, Toni’s friends had followed him over – he couldn’t allow himself to be loet down in front of them -  but I couldn’t be seen to lose face in front of Julia – and especially not in front of Sam.  However I also couldn’t allow this to fall out into a slanging match, no I needed backup, luckily it was sitting there and had just been insulted by Toni.

 

“Antonio foobar sirname” Carrie tood up and walked purposefully towards him, her eyes were burning with a bright fire, a fire who’s flames had been fanned by Antonion’s comments.  Toni’s friends stepped back but Carrie wasn’t interested in them, she was intent only ont he destruction “do you honestly know what your mama would say if she was to hear how you had been treating this poor little girl” Carrie pointed at me “She didn’t know what to expect from you, she didn’t promise anything, you tried to take it”.  Well, I would have to speak to her later about the ‘poor little girl’ comment, but I let it pass for the moment, I think I would have forgiven almost anything the way the Toni was backing off from Carrie.  i really didn’t deserve this, but I felt she wasn’t fighting my battle, I was just a convenient excuse to continue her own – and in that respect she had gained from me, up until I caused the problem she didn’t see she had a battle to fight.  i couldn’t claim I had done it on purpose,

 

but I couldn’t complain about the results.  Carrie had come through for me big time.

 

 

Chapter 41

 

 

The rest of Monday passed quietly, afternoon kept me seperated from the others with extra spanish so I had arranged to meet up with Julai and Sam by the gate.  I was on top of the world, news about Carrie’s defense of me had spread slowly, but I was no longer the social lepper that everyone had previously assumed.  Indeed I think there was a wealth of opportunity for company on my walk home had I chosen it, but I wanted to spend time with Sam – in any case a whole load of us were meant to be meeting up for coffee later in the evening.  I was a little dissapointed to find that only Julia was waiting for me.  As I walked up to her she fell in beside me

 

“not waiting for Sam”

 

“No…  you wouldn’t belive whats happend”

 

“What?”

 

“Mum has fallen ill – I’ve got to rush home.  I don’t think I’ll be able to go out this evening.”

 

“Oh – is there anything I can do?”

 

“You could let Sam know for me”

 

“Okay”  It was the least I could do.  Well, actually the least I could do was somewhat less.

 

 

We walked home in a sort of tense silence, every so often Julia’s tension overflowed and she started talking, apparently aunt Gladys had a bowel condition which flared up every once in a while – it usually wasn’t serious but occasionally she had a bad attack, and needed Julia’s support..  It would be easier this time, Julia hoped, with my mom and dad around to take some of the load.  Nevertheless, it was tough on her, having to put her social life on a hold.

 

 

“So Sam doesn’t know?”

 

“There was a call tot he school office just before the end of the day – I got called out, and had to rush straight away.”

 

 

When we arrived at the house, everything was in uproar. Dad had driven Aunt Gladys to the E.R.  Mom was busy panicing about not being able to find the things on the list that Gladys had asked for.  Julia underwent another of her transformations, from the panicing girl, she became an efficient serious worker, finding all of Gladys’ requests and collecting them together for mom.  Then Julia began the process of attempting to contact a range of people and tellt hem what had happened, her telephone manner suddenly had a practical use.  I didn’t know how I could help, what I could do, so I hid in the kitchen, making myself some toast for dinner. And silently swallowing it.  I was better off out of here, rather than just getting under people’s feet.

 

 

Having made that decision I headed off back into town to meet the others.  I was buzzing on the adrenaline the atmosphere at home had engendered, I hardly thought caffine would be much of a pick me up tonight, but it would be good to have a number of people to bounce off, or perhaps to ground me and pull me down towards earth.  It was a bit of a shock to find the shop empty – if not empty of people, totally lacking people I knew.  Had I been set up?  That didn’t make any sense.  If there was noone around to see me, what could be the point.  i wasn’t early, maybe everyone else had been held up.  There wa sno harm in ordering a coffee, I thought, so I approached a barista and ordered a double mocha with cream then sat down at a table and waited.

 

 

My wait wasn’t long, first came the coffee along with complimentary bisscotti, which I absentminded dunked in the cream, scooping it up into my mouth.  Then Sam arrived.

 

 

“I tried to call you”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Noone could make it this evening – we were talking about it after class, we all ahd so much french homework landed on us – well, Iw as about the only person who didn’t feel they had to lock themselves away.”

 

“Oh”  I probably sounded dissapointed, because Sam immediately jumped in again

 

“but I’m here – if you want to have coffeee with me.”  Did I ever?  A chance to be alone with Sam, to see what I could do to win him over.  perhaps i should make sure he knew how much brighter I was that Julia, how much more sensitive I was than Julia, how much better travelled – how much of a citizen of the world I was, how much more to offer him I had than…

 

“Julia?”

 

“Pardon?”  I was woken from my thoughts, he couldn’t have been reading my mind.  There were many remarkable things about Sam and where his mind took him, but I didn’t expect ESP to be among them.

 

“I said ‘where is Julia’?”

 

“Oh”.  i could spot a pattern in my responses.  I thought I might, perhaps liven the conversation up by saying something other than ‘pardon’ or ‘oh’.  It was a long shot, but it might just work.

 

“Julia” I said, “Julia couldn’t make it” and then it hit me.  A plan of so much genius that I could have cried with laughter, or perhaps issued a gargantuan roar of “Bwahahahaha”.  “I don’t think she was very keen on coming”

 

“oh”.  It was sam’s turn to play the part of the sileent one, but whereas my ‘ohs’ had been of understanding and resignation, Sam’s was barely audiable, it teetered on the brink of being silent.  It caught at the back of his throat.  The seeds of doubt were planted

 

“Did she say why?”

 

 

At that point I still had an escape route.  I could explain about Aunt Gladys’ illness, about how Julia really had to look after her family at the moment, because it was what she knew how to do – it was something she was good at and needed to do.  That would have been the honest route, it would have given Sam a new view of the girl he was with, a family oriented caring sensitve girl, more than just the pretty but vacuous queen of the schoolyard popularity contest (not that I’m sure Sam minded those attributes in his girlfriend – I just thought of him more as the caring type who looked for depth.  After all, it was me he had wanted first, and it was me he was going to wind up with, so he had better like depth, in spades).  I also had the other route, the way Mack would want me to go.  If I had been a character in a cartoon, at this very moment I would have an angelic me and a demonic me sitting on my shoulders arguing about the correct path for me to take, but as it was, I applied simple logic – there was absolutely nothing I could gain through being nice.  I took the plunge.

 

 

“To be honest, I think she had someone else on her mind”

 

His face fell.  It was over in seconds, but you could pinpoint the moment his heart broke.  First his eyes looked down, the ends of his eyebrows fled down towards his cheeks.  His bottom lip quivered ever so slightly and he grew just a touch redder, then he lifted his hands up and put them on the table.  He raised his eyebrows to catch a glimpse of me over the top the the tablecloth he appeared to be studying so carefully.

 

 

“Its all over, isn’t it?” He asked.  I remained silent.  I hoped he would interpret it as a caring, not quite wanting to dash his heart even though it was a certainty silence, even though if I was challenege I would have to admit it was a more “non-comittal, jump to your own conclusions, I’m not going to stop you boy” type.

 

“I knew it.  That sort of thing couldn’t last.”  He was dangerously close to whining.  Didn’t sam know that whining was a major turn off to girls you are about to sweep of their feet even if you don’t know it yet?

 

“If you want to talk about it”.  I motioned to a barista to bring over some coffee.  Sam just looked into the large mug, hoping he would see some sign of what to do in it.  Why coudn’t I have adsked the barista to have spreyed the cream into the words “chat up Loren?”

 

“Sam stirred the coffee aimlessly.  The problem was clear – cases like this required the soothing velvet of hot chocolate, a high caffine mocca just wasn’t the same.  There was no way sam was going to be able to move on without a little help

 

“Hey” I poped my head down level with his, so that I was resting my chip upon my hands.  I looked upwards to catch his eyes and I smiled.  “This isn’t doing either of us any good.  Do you want to go for a walk”

 

I don’t think he did, but I don’t think he could think of anything better to do.  He slowly shuffled his body straight and stood up.  iwas getting a little impatient, Sam was milking this just a little too much.  I grabbed his hand and led him out of the shop.

 

 

Together we walked though the streets of Cambridge, down past John’s and Trinity under the gargoyles of keys and out onto sennet house hill (I say people in britain are confused, but whoever decided to name senate hill ‘Hill’ was clearly on something stronger than Jed’s weed – its totally flat, but then real hills seem to be something of a rare commodity around these parts, perhaps fantasy was all they had going for them).  We watched the sun setting behind the excess of architeture known as Kings college chappel, headed past the sweet smell of the fudge shop and into the market square.  The traders had finished putting their stalls away and all that remained were the skeletons, waiting for ressurection tomorrow morning when the bones would be bolidy reincarneted with flesh.  Now the only stalls in operation were two burger vans, already queues of students were building up.  We walked past and headed out towards Parker’s piece.

 

 

It was under the setting sun that we sat down on a bench at the side of parker’s piece and watched the world go by.  I looked down, and Noticed that though he hadn’t said anything but a vague murmer of consent throughout the whole of our expidition, Sam was still clasping my hand firmly, as if he needed something to grab onto, to keep him from falling.  I looked towards him, and blinked, the sun was level with my eyes and blinded me, but as I regained my ability to see, the glare fading, Sam was staring back directly into my eyes.  He was the one.  He wasn’t Antonio in terms of looks, but he was a mystery – a different sort of mystery, not just a heir of self promoted mystique, but the sort of mind that one needed to unravel in order to firmly get inside, dangling loosly on the edges of sanity and genius.  He was someone that made me question not only my sanity but also how I had ever managed to consider him wierd or just a friend, or ever trying to palm him off on my cousin.  No she had had her chance, she chose her mother over this wonderful, amazing man who even know was looking deep into my eyes.

 

 

“Are you absolutely sure Julia and I are over?” Sam asked.  I gulped

 

“Yes” I whispered and instantly regretted my lie, but the regret lasted only a fraction of a second and when it subsided, Sam was kissing me.  Oh god he was kissing me.  he was awkward, unpracticed, cautious but gentle and tender.  What had I done.  he was my cousins boyfriend, she had made such a sacrafice and here I was abusing her trust, her friendship.  It wasn’t that Iw as capable of doing that which caused m y heart to skip a beat, it was the fact I didn’t care, because I knew Sam and I shared a destiny.  And from the look on his face, a radient glow silhoetted by the Sun which now was perhing on the edge of the horizon, he knew that we were desinted to be together too.

 

 

Chapter 42

 

 

Life at home became complicated.  Not because of Sam – Julia took the week of school, Ill.  It was a reasonable reaction, I thought, she would never have been able to concentrate, she certainly didn’t need the added distraction of knowing that I had stolen her boyfriend.  Sam was happy to spend time with me, and surprisingly noone seemed to comment.  Perhaps it just seemed more natural that Sam be with me rather than julia.  But at home, I could hardly look her in the eye.  And mom and dad seemed under more stressed than ever, I heard them arguing behind closed doors – Mom and Dad never argue (which might sound hard to believe, but they’re this sort of strunge wonderunit – I think its because Mom is such a obsessive and dad is a perfect doormat for her to walk over), so it was a sure sign that even they had succumbed to the tension that was brewing, so much still left unspoken.  I just ducked my head and kept away from everyone.  I became a culinary genius “fromage au pan flambeau” a particular speciality.

 

 

So much of the time, there was nobdy around, I just sat in my room reading – or on the telephone talking with Sam.  I was flicking through one of Julia’s magazines, trying to choose a new outfit to go out and buy when I noticed that I was indeed alone in the house, and that Julia’s bag was unattended in front of me.  The schdule was far better established now – everybody had only just gone out.  I had hours of time knowing I owuld be uninterrupted.  I would be reading her letter, I had been taught that sort of thing was wrong, but just because it was impolite didn’t mean it wasn’t the action I should take.  It was impolite for Julia to be keeping secrets from me.  There was no question about it, I deved deep, to the bottom of her hand and withdrew the bright pink envelope.

 

 

I turned it around in my ands as I walked downstairs, examining the outside of the envelope from every angle.  There was a letter inside, nothing else.  I picked up the kettle and filled it with water, the slotted it back onto its base and switched it on.  I had never actually steamed a letter open before, it was one of those things you know theoretically ought to work, you’ve seen it done hundreds of times on television, it never occurs to you until you try that you’re not really sure what the principles are “steam makes glue temporarilly ineffective?”  didn’t seem to be a particularly persuasive argument.

 

 

The kettle began to boil away happily bubbling clouds of steam out into the kitchen.  I dangled the envelope in the boiling gas and hoped for the best.  One thing they never tell you about steaming envelopes open in movies is that these days kettles shut off when they have finished boiling.  I must have restarted the kettel twenty times before I noticed the flap on the envelope’s back beginning to curl up.  I retrived the envelope and placed it on the counter.  The pink had darkened unevenly in the moisture, I hoped Julia wouldn’t notice, or that she would put it down to the excess of time left at the bottom of a school bag.  I picked at the folding paper and caefully pulled, stopping whnever I felt any resistance, and then restarting with even greater care and gentleness.  Within a matter of minutes, the envelope was open and I had pulled out the letter from within.  I quickly glanced to the end

 

 

Love

 

 

Mack

 

 

It was from Mack, there was no reason for me not to finish reading it.

 

 

Dear Julia,

 

 

You might remember me, you might not.  It wasn’t until I saw you on Saturday evening that I realised I had to tell you this, that I had to admit everything.  You have a right to know who you are – there is no reason for you to continue to live the lie that you have been forced to endure.  My tale began when I was much younger.  I had found myself in a relationship with a beautiful women, but I was too young to appreciate what it was I had.  I felt stifled, needed to experience more while she wanted to settle down and begin a life of monotonous monogamy.

 

 

You have probably guessed that the woman I am speeking of is your mother.  Don’t get me wrong, I loved her, and there is a part of me that regrets leaving her – but there is a part of me which knows I would have never acheived my full potential had I remained with her.  You may feel that you hate me for abandoning her, you may feel that I had no right.  That is your option – I have no right to tell you how to feel, to suggest you choose to favour me over your mother would be absurd.  I just wanted you to know who it is I am.

 

 

You’r mother requested that I didn’t contact you, but I resolved you had every right to know the truth about who it is you are.  Recent events have somewhat pressed the matter, as I am sure you will soon understand   I decided I would give you the power to know now, though suggested you wait until your sixteenth birthday before you opened this – at sixteen you are undeniably able to make adult decisions and you have a right to be treated with the respect due to any adult.  If you did so, then happy birthday.  If you opened it earlier, well, I appluad your interest, and you may be more like me that I would have expected.

 

 

When I left your mother, there was something I did not know.  She was – I’m sure you have guessed, it would take a fool not to have premepted me  – she was pregnant.  She didn’t tell me that until much later – you see there were lies and deceipt on all sides.  What you probably havn’t known is that she was pregnant with twins.  Your sister was adopted by my brother.

 

 

I dropped the letter to the floor.  If what Mack wrote was true, then everything I knew about myself was wrong.  Julia was my sister.

 

 

Chapter 43

 

 

It seemed like hours before I managed to pick myself up off the floor and begin to sort things out.  I didn’t feel like it, there were some many questions, so many things I didn’t know hoe to approach any more.  Why had my parents never mentioned it?  It would explain why they wouldn’t want to tell me about Mack – if there was a man who’s very existence manged to prove the lie that you had been building into a human over the past fifteen years then then it was natural to want to sweep him under the carpet.  A bigger question was why Mack didn’t think he could tell me.

 

 

It was only after I had run through the full gamut of emotion, realising I had a sister (which explained why everyone kept saying we looked so similar) and wondering about why my parents lied to me that I realised Julia’s letter was still lying opened on the kitchen floor.  I had to do something about that, so I retrieved it and used some glue to seal it back in the envelope.  I took the letter up to my room and then hid it back into the bag.

 

 

Alone.  Deserted.  Its really hard to explain this sort of thing.  Part of me was still wondering if it was possible that it was someone else, but everythign pointed to me.  Nothing had actually changed, and yet I feel so unsettled, as if I was adrift, floating without anything to anchor me.    God it was weird.  I felt like crying, but that didn’t make any sense.  You don’t find books on how to cope when you find out everything you know is a lie by reading your new sister’s personal correspondence.  I considered turning to the problem pages and agony aunts that appeared in the back of some of Julia’s magazines, but they never had any useful problems, nothing that was worth even calling a problem half of the time, they could have called then “Tut, thats a bit of a shame” paged.  alanis morisette owuld probabyl call the irony pages.

 

 

So I returned to the room, just sitting on the floor in the centre of the carpet and looking around for inspiration, hope that someone somewhere would have left a sign as to what it was I ought to do.  I had to confront Mom and dad, that was a given, btu was now really the right time?  When Moms sister was in hospital ill?  It wouldn’t be fair on her, on anyone – but then none of this was fair on me.  At some point I must have started crying, because by the time I heard the key in the lock I was positively bawling, the carpet was awash with my tears.

 

 

“Mom? Dad?” I called downstairs.  I wiped my eyes and made a halfhearted attempt to straighten my heair and sort myself out, but really my actions made no difference.  once more I was a mess.  My shouts were not answered by the calls of my parents, but by a joyfull springing up the stairs by princess perky herself.  “Mom’s getting better – they’re goign to let her home in a few…”

 

Julia swung open the door with an abandon which probably matched the joy that the news she was delivering deserverd, but she stopped dead seeing me in my bedraggled state

 

“Oh my god” she said, then she added in a quiet whisper “Is everything OK”

 

 

No I wanted to say, how on earth could you possibly think everything was OK.  Didn’t you know that we have both been lied to, that there is nothing even close to reality in what our parents have told us.  I wanted to cry with her, I wanted to hug her tight to me chest and make Julia promise never to betry me like may parents had done.  I wanted to run and jump and fight something to remove the tension which was building up inside of me.

 

 

Then it hit me.

 

 

Julia didn’t know.  Julia – however she knew Mack – didn’t realise he was her father, didn’t know I was his sister  .Could I tell her – how Could I explain that I knew.  I had read her letter, there was no reasonable explanation which would hold up to any scrutiny.  I just shook my head and said

 

 

“It doesn’t matter.  I’ll be alright.  Its good to hear about your mom”

 

“It’ll be good to see Sam again, now all this is over”

 

I’m not sure how to spell it, but the next word I said was something like ‘gneeerep’.  Sam.  Fuck.

 

 

Chapter 44

 

 

I was waiting for Mom and Dad to get back.. They were very cheerful, nowhere near as stressed as they had been.  They were laughing and touching each other on the nose and the kneww and other public displays of affection that you would really rather never see your parents take part in.  They probably wern’t expecting the inquisition which was about to strike them, but they deserved no time to prepare – they had had fifteen years, and now they were going to pay.

 

 

“Mom, Dad, sit down”

 

”Sit down please” mom corrected me.  I wasn’t in the mood to humour her.  I passed over two steaming mugs of hot chocolate and smiled

 

“Whats up darling” Dad asked.  I had cleaned my face up and changed, but dad was observent, he could tell I wasn’t my normal sunny self.

 

“Mack”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Uncle Mack.”

 

Dad looked at Mom.  Mom looked at dad.  They tried to telepathically communicate between one another some sort of united front they could presnet before me.  Perhaps they were trying to figure out if a response like “Uncle Mack who?” would work.  Whatever, the laws of physics defeated their valient attempt and an appearence of resignation flooded over their features, their heads nad bodies sank by an inch or two before they looked at me again.

 

“What about Mack?” dad asked.  he wasn’t smiling, he made no attempt to joke.  He was deathly serious.  Only very occasionally had I seen Dad looking like this, it took a lot to upset him, he was normally so laid back about everything.  For something to make dad like this, it must have been really bad.  I was more than a little scarred.  Was there some taboo I had broken.

 

”Is he your brother?”

 

“Yes”

 

Dad wasn’t making this easy.  I was going to have to probe carfully, trying to avoid setting him off.  Nitroglycerine handlers must feel quite similar to me, I mused.

 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about him”

 

“Something happened, a long time ago.  I, that is to say we” Dad turned to Mom and clasped her hand.  A tear was running down her cheek. “we decided we didn’t want to have someone like that within our family.”

 

I gulped.  I had made Mom cry.  Dad was flicking between glaring at me, and trying to hold himself together.  I stayed silent.  Dad also refused to speak.  We stared at each other.  I imagined the second hand on the clock turning backwards, time seemed to pass so slowly.

 

Eventually he cracked.  Only about forty seconds had actually passed, but I felt like I had aged decades during the pause in the conversation

 

“I suppose I had better tell you what happened.  We don’t talk about it, and I hope we never have to talk about it again.”

 

I nodded assent.

 

“we were going to tell you, really we were, but with everything that happned”

 

I nodded again.  now wasn’t the time for recriminations.  They could wait for the time being.

 

“I was a lot younger then.  Mack and your aunt Gladys had been an item for a good time.  We all liked Gladys – she was pretty much the same as she is now – full of energy, domineering but very sweet at heart.  Of course, I was over in the US, I didn’t see much of them, but it seemed clear to all of us that the two would ultimately get married.  We all came over – I was with my partner of the time, a girl by the name of Marie…” Dad trailed off, it wasn’t a misty-eyed pause but more of a hesitent look to see how Mom would react.  I think Mom sensed his unease, and decided to fill the gap herself.

 

“Marie was really pretty – your dad was a bit of a player in his younger days.  I think they thought of themselves as being ready to follow his brothers lead.”

 

Dad concurred

 

“It wasn’t that there wern’t tensions under the surface, but I certainly thought we were the real deal.  When Gladys and Mack announced that they were to be married, we clubbed together and bought ourselves tickets sot hat we coul dbe at the ceromony.  I wanted to be with my brother on his big day, and Marie wanted to be by my side, despite never having met him.  We treated the whole thing as a bit of a holiday – I had never been abroad, let alone all the way to England.  There was so much I wanted to see.  MAck and Gladys entertasined us, showed us the sights, took us out for meals.  I suppose I should have spotted it then”

 

Dad always was a god story teller, I remember how he would read fairytales to me as a child, always improvising, winding the story around his finger, pacing it perfectly withholding exactly the right amount of information to create a big bang when it was ultimately revealed.  I’m not sure he was quite getting into telling this story in the way he used to – or perhaps I wasn’t quite as in awe of him as I was when I was a kid, but there was still something, a ressonance with his storytelling past.  In any event, I was spell bound, there was some family secret which had been withheld from me now being openly revelead.

 

“On the Day of the service, I was waiting outside the registry office along with gramps.  You’re Grandmother, grandfather and your mom were there to support Gladys.  We got talking about how differerent things were, what a lovely couple Mack and Gladys made.  I was getting a little techy – Marie had gone off shopping earlier in the morning, she was going to meet us here – I think she had been woried that she didn’t have an appropriate hat.  Gladys arrived, and looked stunning, but seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes were getting close to being an hour – there was no sign of Mack, no sign of Marie.  I think you can see where things were going.  Mack had had last minute nerves, or maybe he had been planning it all along.  he had no intention of showing up.  We were left sitting there.  Truth be told I was really cut up, your mother was inconsolable.  Gladys was really quite strong about the whole thing – I bet inside she was as  torn up as the rest of us, but Gladys was never the sort of person to let that sort of thing show – unless it was dramaticly appropriate.  We all just sat around trying to figure out what we were going to do, stunned.  Then Gladys dropped the bombshell – she was goign to tell Mack on their honneymoon, make it extra special, but she was pregnant.”

 

“I suppose it all worked out for the best – your Dad and I would never have met.  I think we both needed one another after that.”  The smiled at one another, but they were avoiding a key issue.  I decided my only course of action was to prompt them.

 

“You said Aunt Galdys was pregnant”

 

“Gladys was going to tell Julia, she thought it was important now we were all together, but she held off until I had a chance to think things through.  I think it would be best for everyone if we wait a day or two until Gladys is home and able to tell her herself.”

 

I carried on staring at them straight in the eye.  Dad kept trying to brake my stare, moving his eyes around and blinking.  I couldn’t belive they werwe still holding back, still not saying anything ot me.  Perhaps I had been wrong, perhaps there was nothing remaining for me to be told.  Had I really just jumped to conclusions?  I had to be sure

 

“Am i…” Is tuttered, the words were holding back, trying their level best not to escape from my mouth.  I perservered “am I addopted”

 

Together, synchronised, their faces fell.  I hadn’t thought there was any further down they could go, but they were practically touching the floor.  Dad breathed in and out slowly but jumpilly, as if he was concious of everythign his body was doing.  Mum just seemed to retreat inswards, sheltering herself from the outside world behind the thick woolen fleece she was wearing.

 

“yes” was dads one word reply.  It was all I needed to hear.  Everrything I had thought to be true was concirmed by three little letters which dad whispered so quietly.  I felt for him.  It must have been hard for him, those wern’t memories I would be happy to dredge up, just because one of my offspring had a slightly voyeristic nature, but still, the lying, the deceipt, the thinking I wasn’t ready to cope with knowing the truth.  It hurt.  Deep within my heart there was a gash which I had no way of healing.  I couldn’t cope with sitting here.  I couldn’t cope with seeing what I had done to mom and dad, with wondering if I could make them feel any better, wrestlign with my concionce and witht he voice inside of me that just wanted to add tot heir pain.  I jumped to my feet and ran to my room, my cheeks were raw from the tears, and there was no ceasation, no time for them to heal for several hours.

 

 

Chapter 45

 

 

Pain. Pain pain.  Pain pain pain. Pain pain. Pain.  All of my world was constructed of ntohing but pain.  None of my memories were real, it was like finding out you were a cyborg with an artificially constructed past, but it was worse, because I knew I had lived through the past which others had built for me.  I had been a conspiritor, playing a part in my own deception.  And now I was only fit for lying on my bed and punching my pillow.  I hit it hard again.  This time it was moms face.  Last time it had been dads.   But to some extent each and every time it had been me, metaphorically hitting my own head against whatever wall it was that was holding me back.  Slowly I tired, and after an hour or two Mon came in and hugged me.  I was too weak, too confused to resist, and I hugged her back, it was an unspoken rebonding experience.  Two women together, supporting one another – I felt her love, her unconditional love.

 

 

“Gladys didn’t think she was going to be able to cope.  She was talking about having an abortion.  Twins are hard enough on any woman, but on someone who had just been treated in the way Mack had treated her it was astounding.  I was really worried about her.  So was your dad.  We both swore we would do anything we could to help – out of love in my case, perhaps out of some sort of misplaced guilt on your dads part.  It helped us to bond more closely, the three of us.  Every evening we would sit down at firsrt over wine, but when Galdys got further down the road to pregnancy over mugs of hot chocolate.  we would talk and talk.  Setting the world to rights or discussing the minutia of a terrible TV programme we had just watched.  it was the first time we had really done things like that – the first time I had really felt like being part of a family – in the past I had just let Glady go her own way.”  Mum stopped, her eyes were welling up and she was beginning to gabble.  The words she didn’t say said so much more.

 

 

“by the time you were due, your dad and I were a firm Item – married, in fact, in the same registry office.  Gladys asked if we could look after one of her children.  We both loved Gladys – both of us would do anything for her, to help her through things.  We adopted you, but it was because we loved you so much.  We wanted you to be a real part of our lives, not to play your biological mother off against us.  We decided not to tell you until the time was right, and the time was never right for news like that.  How do you tell a child you lied”

 

And I understood.  It was a quiet, tender understanding, not something that did anything useful, it was as if Mom had kissed the gash on my heart – nothing had been repaired, there was no reall magical healing power, and yet somehow with her there for me I knew that I could be a big girl, a brave girl, and not cry.  I tightened my hug again, and we held each other.

 

 

And mom was there for me.  As the day progressed she would just wanded over to me and hold my hand or rub my shoulders.  Dad was less comfortable – he had his own demons, demons Mom could not exorcise fully through understanding because they involved betrayal by another woman.  he tiptoed around us, but in some ways the tension was less – everything was out in the open – Uncle Mack could walk into the centre of the room and there would be nothing for anyone to hide – except for the anger and resentment, but just like my heart these things never healed, they were just to be lived with, the sort of lessons which we look back on and realise they taught us to be who we are today, but which at the time they occur hurt far more than anything else in the world – and the sort of scars which can be wripped open and have salt ppoured in no matter how much time has allowed us to repress it.

 

 

Julia though was a different matter.  She could sense there was something wrong, it was the way that we hardly ever said anythign eto each other any more, just looked at one another and shared everything we wanted to say with a knowing glance.  Nevertheless, she could also sense that none of us wanted to talk about it, so when we were all together, she joined in with our silence, but it was obvious to all of us that she was outside the communion we were sharing – which was wrong, she should have been a part of it – she was, by rights, a member.  But that wasn’t what troubled me the most.  What troubled me the most was something Mom came up to me and said an hour or two after our reconcilliation.  She just whispered in my ear

 

“you know, the thing that Mack did which was really terrible – it wasn’t leaving Gladys – if he had wanted to do that the, then their marriage would have never lasted.  It wasn’t leaving a pregnant woman, he didn’t know until much later.  What Mack did that was really bad was how he hurt his brother – stealing his brother’s girlfriend.  Dad likes to make out that it doesn’t hurt him – but he only does that for me.  He still hurts – it isn’t because he loves Marie, its because he really wants to love Mack.”

 

 

Mom was right.  Thats what mothers tend to be about matters like this.  I suppose you inherit your morality from them or something.  The worst thing you could possibly do was betray your own brother or sister, especially over a matter of the hart.  That was made Mack the villian – that was why mack was really resposnible for all the hearthache.  That was where all of the pain that had been inflicted upon me had centred.

 

 

Spot the irony.  Because I didn’t notice it until much later that evening when Julia, keen to get me over whatever was troubling me hassled me to come out.  I asked where, and julia hadn’t made up her mind, but she suggested that perhaps we could start at Sam and carrie’s house.

 

 

Betraying your own sister over matters of the heart.  fuck.  Fuck.  FUCK!

 

 

Chapter 46 – Admission Price

 

 

“I don’t think we should go out tonight” I had to say it to Julia.  i had to get it off my chest.  I had to do something to ease the guilt tht was gnawing at my heart.  I wasn’t going to hold it in until circumstances caused Julia to drag it out of me. Open, forthright, honest, appologetic, grovveling.  that was the answer.  it was everything Mack would have suggested I didn’t do – and if nothing else, that made it right.  julia didn’t tey to argue.  She knew she had to be cautious, that there was something in the air.  I decided to elaborate

 

“We really need to talk”

 

“Is it about… whatever’s going on” she asked.  She really didn’t have a clue as to what was causing the atmosphere.  I couldn’t even tell her, that was down to her mum.  I had promised, or at least a promise had been subsumed into my coming to an understanding with my parents.  There was no way I could tell her everything, but anyway that wasn’t the point of the conversation I needed to have, it was just the motivation.

 

“sort of.”  how could I asnswer better than that.  Julia looked me up and down, it was obvious I had something crushing to say, something important

 

“You ought to be makign hot chocolate around about now, shouldn’t you” she was trying to lighten the mood, but that wasn’t what I wanted.  There was no light side to look at, just the agonising nagging voice in my head.

 

“Julia” I tried to stamp out her nonsense once and for all.  I was was using my serious voice, a sort of flat, monotone with abrupt sharp words. “Its about meand you.  I’ve done something terrible, really terrible, and I don’t know if you’re ever going to be able to forgive me – if there is any way to make recompense”.

 

 

Julia looked me up and down.  She was waiting, waiting for me to tell her what it was I had done, now I knew how Mom and dad had felt earlier, everythign was going to come out and there was going to be pain and suffering as a result.  There was no easy way, no explainable way of saying whta it was I wanted to say.

 

“I’m”  that was one word.  I showed I was srtill able to speak

 

“Going”  I continued.  two words

 

“out”  yes, still speaking, I noticed julia’s eyes lighting up at the chance of juicy gossip, it was only a fraction of a flicker, but everything had gone into slow motion, my mind was working overtime to cope with all the worry and anything that happened I observed in exquisite detail.

 

“with” perhaps julia preempted me, but the sparkle that had entered her eyes began to fade to a dull grim dread.  Maybe she realised that there was only one word that could possibly come next which would require this atmosphere of dread and doom.  I took one final deep breath, I was putting of the inevitable but the end was nearing.  I braced myself for the reaction, I could defend myself if she struck out towards me.  I spat the word out

 

“Sam”

 

 

She just sat there.   No recriminations – at least not then – no tears, not even a single gasp of “oh”.  Just silence, still unbroken silence.  Julia was lookig at my eyes, looking through my eyes, looking inside me for some glimmer of the girl she thought was her frined.  I tried to offer it to her.  I put out my hand, but she didn’t move to take it – didn’t even look like she noticed it.

 

“i’m sorry” I whispered, barely audiable, I didn’t like to break the silence which seemed to be all that was holding us together.

 

There was a  pause, the clock on the wall ticked noisily, ‘tick’ ‘tick’ tick’ tick’

 

“so am I” her quiet reply., but colour was returning to her face, a rich red as fury grew in her belly.  She began to rise to her feet, I got to mine, to turn and escape if she was going to be physical.  i didn’t want to hurt her – I had done too much of that already, I just wanted to avoid her doing anything that she or I would regret.  mainly anything that I would regret – if Julia was to beet me to a bloody pulp she would have been totally justified.  But it wasn’t pphysical violence that followed – that wasn’t Julia’s way.  She used her voice as a weapon – a voice that could make friendshipos could just as easily seal an end to them

 

 

“you ralise I put a lot on the line for you.  I sided with you when you attacked carrie and this this to her, I laughed along with you at rebecca.  I never even considered you would do this to me.  How could you ever…  I just don’t understand…”

 

How do you answer that, she was right, I was a bitch from hell, there was no other justification.  What could I possibly do to make things better

 

“I’ll break up with Sam”

 

“What?  No.  You know the way he dotres on you – even when he was going out with me he was always loren this and loren that.  You’re not going to hurt him too.  You don’t get it?  other people have feelings, and all you do is stamp all over them”

 

“I’m sorry”

 

“I don;t think you know the emaning of the word sorry”

 

“Really, i never wanted to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you – I can’t let my sister be like this – anything I can do to make it better, to make it less worse, tell me.  Please soemthing”  I begged Julia for even the slightest glimmer of forgiveness, but she had stopped dead.  Was it something I had said.  I tilted my head by way of a question.  Julia continued to sit there then clearly confused asked more than I could ever answer in one word

 

 

“Sister?”

 

 

Damn.

 

 

I can’t deny that I said it.  I can’t deny I meant what I said when I had agreed to let Gladys tell her about Mack, about me, about everything.  I also can’t deny I meant what i said about not allowing my sister to be hurt.  The words just slipped out in a torrent of emotion and attempted fence mending.  What it did wasn’t so much mending a fence as putting a canyon between us as I sat there not knowing what to say, unwilling to explain any further without Mom Dad and Gladys giving me their permisson, but not willing to lie any more, to claim I had simply made a mistake.

 

 

So I nodded.

 

 

She nodded.

 

 

Her face was returning to a more normal colour.  I don’t know whether I was a bigger mess than her or vice versa.  We sat there looking at each other.  She seemed to be less shocked, more accepting of this than I had been.  Perhaps she had some understanding, some knowledge.  Maybe Mack had indicated something to her, maybe Gladys had been more open.  Was it possible Julia had just sensed something – was that why she had been so keen to make me part of her life?

 

 

“I don’t know whats going on” she said “Theres too much for me to take  in.  Mum said she had some big new to tell me, to shre with all of us when she got out of hospital.  I thought it might involve Mack.  Mum’s seen a lot of Mack recently.  He gave me a letter, she reached into her bag, picked out the pink envelope and wripped in open, discarding the envelope without noticing the water marks I had left on it.  One more deception, one more betrayal.  One thing I wasn’t going to mention – worrying about that all seemed so petty after everything that had passed in the last few minutes.

 

 

She read through the letter carfully, reading every letter of every word, mouthing them to herself.  “Oh” she said to herself, “oh god”, “mum”, “poor poor”.  I moved over and sat down beside her, grasped her hand tightly and let her know that I was there for her, no matter what.  I was her big sister, just, and I had to be there for her.  And I was, just, sitting beside her.  Everythign else was forgotten now, it was all water under the bridge.  Just as I had been prepared to forget about Sam in order to make peace with my sister, now Julia knew it was what she had to do.  That isn’t one of the things that romance novels tell you about love – just how transient it can be, how little it matters when it all comes down to it – your family, those people you already have a bond with, they’re permanent whether you like it or not.  Gladys could never have survived without Mom, and Dad could never be free from Mack, no matter how much he wanted to be.  And now I was stuck with Julia – every time I looked at Sam, every time Julia looked at sam there would be the betrayal hanging as a shadow, unless everything was forgiven.  Julia knew that, she just passed it by totally, moved on with me by her side.

 

 

“Oh my god.  Oh my god” Julia was bouning up and down with excitement, hugging and shaking me “Ive got a father, I’ve got a sister”

 

 

It was lovely to see her smile, to hear her shrill excited laugh.  There was a strength Julia had which i could never beggin to fathom, something beautiful whichs et her apart – that was why I felt dso different – I walked along slouching, looking at the floor, internalising everything that happened, whereas Loren skipped along kept aloft by her energy, letting the whole world know her joys and sorrows – and she was healthier for that, healthier than me.  More resiliant, even if it just looked like she was a silly girl without any depth – she did have depth – it was just all my depth was inside me, julia’s depth was the whole universe.

 

 

We had to approach Sam.  I told Julia how much it worried me, that I was going to have to tell him how I had lied to him.  It seemed unfair that Sam was going to have to choose between us, but there was no other way.

 

“he probably won’t want either of us” Julia tried her best to comfort me.  It might not have seemed comforting, but it would mean Sam would be able to move on, and we wouldn’t have to worry about one another.  But I wasn’t convinced

 

“You havn’t done anything wrong.  I’ve been such a total bitch”

 

“You havn’t” Julia corrected me. I looked at her as if she was mad, noone sane could doubt my bitchiness, but she was sincere.  Tabula rasa, that girl.  I was astounded

 

“Sam and you make a lovely couple” I told her.  They did.  Not as lovely as Sam and I would make, but still pretty much the perfect couple.  It was  in this mode of defeat tinged with just a little unrealistic figments of hope that we sat in the coffee shop waiting for Sam.

 

 

Sam came over to us, sat at the table.  He was sweet, he was carrying three steaming mugs of hot chocolate

 

 

“It didn’t seem much like a mocca day” he said to me as he passed it over.  I stirred the cream into the chocolate and sipped it.

 

 

“Theres so much to explain” Sam started, “I’m so sorry”

 

“You’re sorry?” I said… well, half shouted, half screamed.  It was weird, I was confused.  Sam wasn’t making any sense – and not in the good way.  UJulia however understood perfectly

 

“He doesn’t know whats happened, just that we both said we needed to talk to him here”

 

Sam thought he was about to be attacked for his daliances when in fact he was about to break one, or both of our hearts.

 

“Sam.  I’m so sorry.  I deceived you”  I had chosen my words carefully, prepared this speech.  it didn’t sound like me, more like a teacher who was going to lecture the school on why we shouldn’t spit gum out onto the schoolyard.  I couldn’t carry on in the vein

 

“Sam, Julia loves you.  I didn’t tell you where she was, I let you think you two were over.  I’m so sorry, I just wanted to walk around cambridge with you, like we did that evening, forever”  I sat back, to watch them walk off together into the sunset, but Julia had her own part to say

 

“Sam, I love you, really I do, but you obviously wanted Loren – You’re too nice to do that sort of thing on the rebound or out of vengence – thats far more a harry sort of thing”

 

“Well.  I do like this beautiful cousins thing, but I don’t want to exploit it because then I would just wake up and ow!”

 

Sam reached down to rub where I had kicked him in the leg, while Julia taunted him some more

 

“Well, actually its a beautiful twin sister thing… ow!”.  This was not to be encouraged, she might me my sister, but her shin was not goign to be free from my vengence if she carried on down that path.

 

“You don’t have to decide now.  Or ever.  We’ll understand if you never want to see either of us again.” I said to him

 

“Yes take your time” julia proably wanted to postpone the pain just as I did

 

“There isn’t any reason to wait.  Julia, I’m sorry, but ever since I first saw her, ever since I first saw you, Loren, its always been you”  And his foor touched my shin, but it had left his shoe and was rubbing my leg.  I leaned over and kissed sam, then remembered Loren and turned back to her

 

“Are you sure you’re OK?”

 

“Yes” she nodded, and wiped away a tear.  “I’ll be fine.  I’;ve got a sister and a dad, what more do I need… plus Harry said billy has a friend”

 

“Harry, Billy?”

 

”What do you think she used as an excuse to stop him coming to the club?”

 

“She asked him out?”

 

“And he accepted – Biker chick or little princess like me?  What do you think he really wanted?”

 

“And carrie?”

 

“She’s over toni, and threatened to tell his mama if he ever so much as goes near another girl at school.  And I think she’ll be glad to have you around” sad said.

 

 

And, you know, I think everything, finally was goign to work out all right.  Sam and I walked down the road, his arm around my shoulders, my hand on his wait.  Each footstep was synchronised, apart from when Sam stumbled on a step he hadn’t seen.  As we passed McDonalds I broke off from our walk

 

“Whats up”

“I’ve just got something I have to do”  I reached into the duffle bag I was carrying and brought out my copy of “The Principles”.  I pulled out page after page and threw them into a litter bin.  I was over it – it had only brought me pain.  then I returned to sam and we stood there and hugged and kissed as strangers bustled past us on the street.  I used to think I was happy in Boston.  I didn’t know I was happy.  I didn’t think I could ever know I was happy.  I was happy now, I knew that I was happy for sure and I knew that it would last.