Another simply says:
I’ve had no hot water for three months.
My favourite, because it reminds me of dear departed Colin, is:
Dangerous faulty electrics, the workman they finally sent to look at them was appalled by what was in there and said they failed every kind of test he could do on them.
How exactly I will wreak revenge on Pete will have to be decided later, as someone has had the audacity to walk in and expect me to provide service to them. I have to check the clock in the corner of my screen to ascertain if it is morning or afternoon. Time flies when I’m focused.
‘Good afternoon,’ I say to a face I know well from the screensaver on Brian’s phone. This version of Brian’s wife, Leanne, is not as flawless as the one in the pictures; there’s no Facetune in real life. Her hair is straggly, her microbladed eyebrows orange-hued like the ink is fading. She still looks loads better than me.
‘Is Brian here?’ She’s shifting around, trying to see where he’s hiding behind me.
It’s not time yet to detonate Brian’s life; I need everything in order first. I can’t be unemployed again. Until then I have to lie.
‘It’s Leanne, isn’t it? I’m Jemma. It’s so nice to finally meet you after all the wonderful things Brian has said about you.’
She freezes. Her eyes narrow as much as her Botox will allow. ‘Is it you?’
The hand I raised to shake hers goes back to my keyboard untouched. I need more context to respond. Does she mean, ‘Is it you that’s in charge of Brian’s fake phone? Is it you that killed Willie?’
I go for ignorance. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand the question.’
She leans down towards me. ‘Is it you he’s shagging? Are you the fancy piece he’s decided to whisk away to Leeds for a night? Because I’m sure he’s promising you all sorts, but know once he’s had his fill he’ll come crawling back to me. He always chooses me in the end.’
Laughing in her face would probably set her off, an insult that I would not have intercourse with the man she has agreed – in front of her closest friends and family – to shag exclusively until death, or it could point to guilt. ‘I am not having sex with Brian, no.’ I do all the things honest people are supposed to do. I maintain eye contact, there is no trembling in my limbs, I speak slowly so nothing can be miscommunicated.
‘That is what you’d say though, isn’t it?’
‘Is the only way for you to believe me, then, to say I slept with him? Because I didn’t, and I wouldn’t.’
Leanne crosses her arms over her gym wear, unimpressed. Whenever I have thought of Leanne and me meeting, I was the hero, explaining to her that her husband is a loser and a cheat. Yet here I am, letting myself down by choosing to participate in my own separate deceit with her until the timing is convenient for me.
‘Not only because I do not want to, but because Brian wouldn’t be interested. He is the most committed family man I have ever met. All he does when he’s not working hard is talk about you and the boys and how much you all mean to him.’ So you know, I do feel bad about this.
‘So where is he?’
‘I’m sure he mentioned the sad passing of Colin, who was one of his clients.’
Her fingertips are on her forehead at the mention of Colin. ‘Do not tell me he went there.’
‘No, no, no. He said it wasn’t appropriate for him to go but he did want to mark his passing, so he’s gone off for some quiet reflection. Not sure where to exactly. He was very sombre when he left and I didn’t think it was appropriate to press him on it.’ My story is done until I see Leanne clock Brian’s mobile on my desk, so I add to my tale. ‘He didn’t want to be interrupted while he was out so he left his mobile with me. Sorry if you haven’t been able to reach him.’
Leanne takes her time to absorb what I’ve said, leaving me to wonder if I’ve added too much detail or laid on Brian’s ability to care too thickly. She stares at Brian’s office, putting everything together. ‘Right. Tell him to ring me when he gets back, will you?’
I’ve no idea if she’s convinced, but I’m glad to have had practice in lying to someone’s face. It feels like a skill that’ll come in handy.
19
‘You absolute belter!’ Brian declared when he got in from the wake or wherever he really was, a whiff of alcohol on his breath as he stood over me and told me how he’d rung Leanne from a phone box – a shocking image, given the only ones left anywhere are surely urinals with phones in them at this point – after he’d received my SOS on the phone Leanne has no idea exists. ‘She sounded genuinely concerned about me. Nothing to do with any women, by the way. She really thinks I’m deep in grief for old Colin. Absolutely phenomenal work. And that bit about me gushing about her in the office? I think I’m going to get a blowie out of that this evening, so thank you very much in advance. Amazing she really believes we’re not shagging.’
‘We aren’t shagging.’
‘I know, I know.’ He dismissed my words with a flutter of his hand, as if we were discussing a point upon which we could both be correct. ‘Anyway, you will be rewarded for your efforts.’
My evening was wasted with concerns the reward would be the offer of Brian’s penis. Which would have been easier to reject than what my prize actually is: getting to show prospective buyers around a flat. Briefly, I had got excited thinking I’d get to drive the company car, access to a vehicle of prime importance to get to Pete, but no, this flat is close to the office. Trudging up to it in the pissing rain, it definitely does not feel like a reward.
The flat is in a converted old house next to the Old Parish Church, which gets a pass on being split into flats because it happened forever ago, so none of this is Malcolm’s fault. What doesn’t get a pass is the state of the building. All of the units are rented out; the property manager and landlords must all be rotten as the building looks dilapidated. On the roof, multiple slates have trickled down from where they are supposed to be to rest in the gutter, waiting to be put back in their rightful place. The grey stone facade is dingy and manky from years of accumulated pollution. Inside, the communal space is oppressive and dark, lined with a carpet that is covered in bald spots and clings onto the scent of every person who has ever walked on it. It’s across the road from the church graveyard, which has buried in it the heads of three Covenanters, which were chopped off as a warning not to disobey the king. I’d thought it barbaric when we were taken there on a school trip. Now I know more about the ways of the world, I think I understand the king’s point of view.
