5. PLAN JUMP SHOOT!!!!!!!
6. Get Violet ahead of schedule
Rather than listen to me bang on about my workload down the phone (his words) Arnie came over to help out. It’s been a long, tense couple of weeks what with Violet being a shit boss and me being a shit friend to Mila, so I’m looking forward to a week away. And now Arnie the great big hipster is here, I really feel like my working holiday has begun. Because not only is he working on numbers three and four from my list, he also bought food with him like some kind of beardy angel. He was muttering about Pot Noodles and indigestion when he knocked on my front door and handed me a bag filled with boxes of sushi and two pots of dumpling soup. I can’t tell you how good it feels to be eating something so fresh and delicious after weeks on the freezer toast and beans diet.
‘I’d like a variety of my photography work on my iPad in a kind of slide-show form. Just on the off-chance that I get to do some networking while I’m in Copenhagen,’ I say, relishing those last few words. It’s ridiculous when I think about it. I’m going to Copenhagen! Under my own steam!! For my own work!!!
‘You could always. . . show people your website?’ Arnie raises an amused eyebrow at me.
‘Yes,I’m not that dim. But none of my Violet photos are on there and I was just hoping to have a mix of everything.’
‘Okay, got it,’ Arnie says, grabbing my tablet.
I watch him as he works, quick as lightning. Every now and then he stops to slurp some broth, which obviously ends up in his beard, or to adjust his outfit, which today involves a neckerchief and some braces. Scoff.
‘Arnie?’
‘Mmm hmm?’
‘Would you mind awfully if I painted my nails?’
‘Why would I mind?’ He looks up at me from my laptop where he’s now busy updating the privacy policy on my website.
‘Because you’ve come over here to do more stuff for me, for free, and you bought food? You’re being so kind and I don’t want you to think I’m taking the piss.’ Also doing your toenails in front of a bloke is definitely not sexy, I don’t add. Though we’re so far from being sexy together these days that Arnie wouldn’t even notice if I started buffing my dry heels. Which reminds me!
‘I don’t think you’re taking the piss. We’re mates, we help each other out.’
‘It seems like a bit of a one-way street though?’
Arnie shrugs. ‘When I need some kick-ass pictures taking, you’ll be the first person I call.’
‘You think my photos are kick-ass?’
‘Look at this stuff,’ he says, scrolling through the latest pictures I’ve put on my site. ‘It’s awesome, Jas. You should be proud of yourself.’
Belly full of dumplings, portfolio and website looking slicker than ever, hell, even my toes are in a great place right now. I give them a little wiggle, watching as the mint green varnish glistens back at me. In my hand is a glass of squash and next to me on the sofa, arms folded behind his head, is Arnie.
Turns out that Arnie has a thing for crap TV. When I admitted that I was planning to watch the new series ofTotally Toffstonight, I fully expected him to buckle up his ironic Jesus sandals and race off into the night. Instead he told me that he secretly loves watching shit telly, causing me to drop my nail polish brush in shock. It landed on the horrid, threadbare carpet in my living room, which is another thing my landlady will bust my balls for when I finally earn enough money to move out. (So, probably never.)
‘Are you sure you haven’t got other plans for tonight? Beekeeping? Curing your own hams? Maybe starting a cross-stitch revival?’
‘For a woman who’s cashed in a lot of favours you sure do like to take the piss.’
I pat him on the hand. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t help it.’
‘I know,’ he replies, ruffling my hair. ‘I did actually have something on tonight but I’m not needed anymore.’
‘Ooh what was it?’ I ask, willing myself to stop right there. But apparently I was born with a must-tease-Arnie gene. ‘Beer-brewing masterclass? Making a pine-needle collage? Urban fishing?’
‘Actually no. I volunteer at a soup kitchen but they’ve already got a full team tonight.’
Oh. He’s so worthy and kind.
‘Well that shut you up, didn’t it?’ Arnie roars.
‘Igot a bit upset.’ Such was Violet’s description of her reaction when Allegra told her that Chip had been cheating. Only, the scenes unfolding on the TV screen right now tell a very different story. Arnie can’t watch. He’s holding a cushion up to his face and every time I turn to look at him, all I can see is cushion with a big red beard sticking out from underneath and a big red topknot poking out from above.
Violet’s on a rampage around the wedding marquee. After Allegra told her in a loud voice that Chip was cheating Violet grabbed the nearest thing to her and pulled, and pulled. That thing was one end of a table runner, so suddenly all of the stylish table decorations were on a conveyor belt, destination: Doom. Vases of stunning flowers. Tiny tea lights. Favours. Cutlery. A cheeseboard. Wine glasses. Everything came crashing to the floor in between Violet and Allegra. The wedding party stopped dancing to stare. The bride, anotherTotally Toffscastmate, started screaming: ‘NOT THE WEDGWOOD!!!’ Only the groom, too pissed to care, carried on dancing.
