‘And as to your suggestion that I cut back on my drinking, let alone need a residential detox, that is downright offensive. You name anyone of my age and level of success that doesn’t like a glass of wine with dinner. Had I known you were part of this ridiculous, clean-living, no-sugar, no fun, virtue-signalling woke brigade I would never have hired you…’ I hold the phone away from my ear. Today really couldn’t be more different from yesterday, which I spent with Belle and then my parents, worlds away from this level of crazy.
Although when Mum heard that I had spent the morning hurtling down a snow-covered hill she had clapped her hands like a performing seal and jumped around the kitchen as if I was about to gift her a bucket full of fish. When I foolishly confirmed I had been spending time with a female friend she practically cartwheeled over the kitchen table. I didn’t dare add I had invited Belle over for the evening as well, even if she did turn me down. I’m half dreading the possibility of Mum making up a banner out of an old sheet sayingPlease date my sonand parking up outside Belle’s flat.
I feel really guilty for telling her about Belle; it had kind of just fallen out of my mouth before I had realised the ramifications of what I was saying. I need to talk to Mum, make her understand that I cannot just start dating, that it is important to honour Jess in my life and that flirting with every woman that happens to appear is the exact opposite. I’m going to have to schedule in some time to try and make her understand, but guilt – my very best friend these days – says it’s cruel to upset her, and it will upset her, whilst she is so poorly, and has bigger things in her life to worry about than her son’s deliberate celibacy. I switch my mind back to the call.
‘Nick, I can understand why you are feeling like this…’ I understand that your ability to believe you have never ever done any wrong is akin to a superpower. The man truly and utterly believes the world repeatedly deals him an unfair hand. ‘And if you want us to cancel our current contract then of course that’s fine. But if you undertake this detox, my contact has offered you a double spread in next week’s Sunday paper alongside the photos of you going into The Priory tomorrow. They’ll then do lots of promo in the run-up to the weekend, for a piece where you to talk directly to your fanbase about your new clean living, how you are very grateful to be married to Cyndi and your determination to prioritise your family above all. They’ll also promote your latest cookbook with a money-off coupon.’
‘Make it look like I’m being repentant and proactive and put my side across, you mean? The media have been very reluctant to engage since that slapper—’
‘I think the focus is very much on reflection, what you’ve learnt—’
‘Yes, yes. And I could talk about consent, now there’s a topic of the day.’
‘Okay, good.’
‘About how fucking blurry it is and how I feel for the young men of today. How exactly are they supposed to function sexually in this world gone mad, huh? Are they supposed to wrap themselves in goddam clingfilm, ask for consent before they make a move? Hardly the stuff of great romance…’
I know I’ve already mentioned it but children and animals would feel like a gift today, a gift.
‘It’s getting late so I’ll send you a plan of the sort of thing they’d like to write. If you’re happy to comply, The Priory are expecting you tomorrow Nick, and I do think it would be good for you to give it a shot. That’s my professional advice. If you can send back the plan with suitable quotes and the understanding that I will take a large red pen to anything I feel may hamper your optics then that would be great. Doing it this way means you have more control of the narrative than if you aren’t participating. Then you could monetise it when you come out, make a big thing of it. Have Cyndi do your social media whilst you’re in there, make sure you show you’re aware Christmas is a flashpoint, push a whole book on mocktails next year. You’d have a whole new market there, lots of young people are increasingly not drinking. I really think you should do this, but we’ll talk again when you’ve had a chance to think it over. Thanks, Nick, bye.’
In my business you learn when to listen and when to get the hell away. Had it not been for Belle I would have ended my connection with this poisonous oaf ages ago.
I pop some food in the microwave and wait for the ping. I’m ready for my bed. Today may have been crazy but this weekend was good.
Really good.
I surprised myself and I can’t remember the last time I did that.
I hurtled down a hill on a tin tray. Multiple times. And laughed as I did it. If you had told me this was how my UK trip would turn out I would have dismissed you as a lunatic. Yet somehow a little bit of lunacy is creeping into my life and I quite like it.
Bing.
Belle has psychic bloody intuition, she always seems to know when she’s on my mind. At least I hope that’s her, it better not be Nick again! I try to stop the grin that wants to break out all over my face as I pick up my phone and see it is Belle.
Hey, how’s your day been? I swear I’m too tired to even speak but thought I’d check in.
That’s cute. My day has been hectic too. You may have to bail me out on a murder charge at some point this week. How? How? How did I get into this as an industry?
I thought it best not to name names. Professional confidentiality and all. Although let’s face it, her dad has been the biggest of my problems today.
Desperate need to control?
Ouch. But before I can respond—
Sorry didn’t mean that. Don’t know why I typed it. Forgive me.
She typed it because it’s true. She does that. Speaks before she thinks. She will say you cannot rely on Belle Wilde for much, but that’s not right. You can rely on Belle Wilde for so many things that she doesn’t seem aware of. To have your back when it’s needed. To make each day fun. To make the most miserable bugger – and yes, I include myself in this – laugh in the depths of winter. And she’ll always tell the truth even though sometimes it pinches. Sometimes it pinches a whole damn lot but with my line of work, Belle and her unflinching need for truth is refreshing. However, I’m not telling her any of that.
Forgive you? Hmmmmm, I’ll have to think about it. Go on then, best bit of your day?
The kids. I see why teachers get into teaching. Kids are so rewarding, engaging. They make everything fun.
Okay and worst bit.
The kids! They may be the best bit but my God they’re exhausting. I can cope with Marsha, but thirty of them in each class, the younger ones always seem to need the toilet and are just one big mess of snot in winter and all of them are so jacked up simply because they’re not doing maths or whatever they would normally. They’re insane.
Hahaha. Was is just school you were in today?
