‘Someone in the office had started it a while ago. Hezza, the lezza. Not to her face, obviously.’
I take a good look at Jay as he begins to mess about with the smart board. Pushed up onto the tips of his toes as he stretches to reach the top, I take a real good look at all five-feet-four of him as I wonder what could have stunted his growth. And I’m not talking about his height. Just last week, he told me his parents have begun looking for a nice Sikh girl from the old country for him to marry. He was so fucking morose, quite rightly, at the thought of being tied to a stranger for life. I felt genuinely sorry for him. Now I feel sorry for the girl.
‘Did it occur to you that it might be sour grapes, Jay? Or that you shouldn’t join in and take part in the mudslinging?’
‘What?’ He turns, tucking in his shirt where it’s pulled loose from the waist of his pants, confusion written all over his face.
‘It’s an easy out, right? A girl knocks back a bloke’s advances, but it can’t possibly be his fault. Because he’s great—one of the lads. If she’s not interested in his cock, she has to be a lesbian, right?’
‘Erm . . .’
‘But ask any lesbian what she’s got against cock and the only answer you’ll get is that cock is only ever a problem when it’s attached to a man.’
‘Yeah, but—’
‘But nothing, mate. It’s wrong, Jay. Fucking wrong.’
‘But, Arch, that’s not it. Her boss, Haydn, he calls her Hezza the—you know,’ he finishes uncomfortably.
‘You what?’
‘They had a big bust up in a meeting, and he was really pissed off about something. Next thing, he’s calling her names when she’s not around.’
‘That’s just fucking wrong.’
‘But Arch, I don’t think she’s a lesbian. I called her Hezza because that’s how Emika, her intern, says her name. She’s one of them weebs who thinks she’s Japanese and shit.’
‘She’s from Putney, not Tokyo.’
‘I know. It’s probably just a phase, innit? And she says her name with an accent. You know, Hezza.’ To add to the probably unflattering term, and the fucking awful imitation of a person of Japanese heritage, he presses his hands together and bows.
Is thisWhat the Fuck Day? Did I miss it marked on the calendar?
Because something’s wrong when you have to explain to a Sikh man why it’s not okay to parody an English girl impersonating a Japanese girl in the workplace.
‘I just thought it was cute.’ He shrugs, all affable again. ‘If you want to have a go at someone, have a go at her boss. He was telling everyone he thinks she’s lying about having a boyfriend because she likes girls. It almost broke my heart to hear it, but then I had a think about it and—’
‘Stop. I don’t need to know.’ If lesbians have no interest in straight men, then straight men have no such compunction.
‘I was gonna say he’s a real nasty piece of work. And that I don’t believe it.’
‘It’s fucking nuts.’ She was with girls last night, but they looked like mates, not conquests. ‘You know, this is the worst place I’ve ever known for gossip and intrigues. People must have far too much time on their hands.’
‘I reckon he fancies her.’
‘Seems the obvious answer.’ And he seems like the type.
‘Hey, is the Fact Controller gonna be down for this meeting this afternoon?’
‘Who?’
‘The big boss. Lambeth. ’Cause he looks like the fat geezer off Thomas the Tank Engine, right?’
‘Why?’ I ask, ignoring the rest.
‘’Cause he’ll go straight to Hez, I mean, Heather’s office.’
‘Why?’
