back! You may be my ex-lover, but an ex-lover with a concrete overcoat, I don’t need!”
“Don’t you mean concrete boots?”
“Not once you’ve spent the winter in New York you don’t. Theory Number Three?”
“I’m not sure, I don’t have it clear in my head yet, but I think it’s something else. Something to do with the wigs and the pretence and the falsity. I think maybe September enjoyed the game of it.”
“Oh please! She’d come all this way just for the fantasy? Hell, she could get that in Streatham for a tube fare.”
“Not any more she couldn’t. Anyway, I do.”
“Do what?”
“Enjoy the role playing. I quite like it. New hair, new name. It’s exciting.”
“Yeah, but lying’s part of what you do for a living.”
“Thanks, you put it so nicely. Well, maybe she was a frustrated actress. Maybe that’s the only reason she did it.”
“Right. That and the money.”
“Oh yeah, the money. Well maybe she’s just a con-artist. Conning drunks to buy champagne and conning John Clark to give her all his money. Perhaps she’s the baddie after all.”
“You think so?”
“I don’t know. Everything else just seems so extreme. I know Calendar Girls sounds like something out of a movie, but actually all the girls are really nice, and it’s not as if we don’t know plenty of women in London who’ve paid their way by hostessing.”
“Yeah Saz, only most of them were gay.”
“Who’s to say September isn’t? John Clark said they were ‘friends’ – he was very clear on that. And I believe him – I don’t think he’s the type to have an affair …”
“What’s ‘the type’?”
“You are Carrie, remember? Now shut up and listen. So we assume she wasn’t shagging Mr Clark and though I don’t like James, that’s more because he’s just one of those slimy arrogant men, than because he might be … whatever he might be. But none of the girls would seriously consider having an affair with him – the odd fling maybe, but he certainly isn’t take home to your mother material. All the same, I think he is exactly what he seems …”
“And what’s that?”
“A slightly nasty, definitely shady bloke, who’s involved in something which is bigger than just the facade of ‘Calendar Girls’ – but that’s all. It’s not as if we haven’t come across similar set-ups back home.”
“Yeah sweetheart, but neither of us have ever actually worked in them.”
“I know, but you know what they’re like, you’ve heard the stories – it’s bound to be to do with gambling or drugs or whatever … but despite everything, the strangest person here is still September herself right? The woman who comes over here regularly from London, who has dinner with John Clark and who no-one seems to be able to put a name to. So the answer must lie with her. I still need to get closer to her.”
“Check his records.”
“CDs?”
“No! Records stupid! He must have personnel records. Go through them. See what he’s got on her.”
“Well how do I do that?”
“Oh for God’s sake Saz, you’re the ‘detective’ here, remember? How on earth did you persuade them to give you that Enterprise Allowance?”
“Told them there was a lot of debt collection work in south-east London. Funnily enough, they believed me. What’s that got to do with it?”
“Well you’ll have to get access to his files somehow – I don’t know, break in, scale the drainpipe, bribe the cleaner, marry the owner … do some detecting!”
“I hate all that climbing through windows in the middle of the night shit.”
“When have you ever done it?”
“I haven’t, I just hate the idea.”
“Then walk through the door in broad daylight – which I might point out, is only a few hours away and some of us have creative work to do tomorrow – go to sleep.”
“OK, sorry. Goodnight.”
Saz turned out the light and thought for a while as she watched the lights from the cars in the street play with the
“Don’t you mean concrete boots?”
“Not once you’ve spent the winter in New York you don’t. Theory Number Three?”
“I’m not sure, I don’t have it clear in my head yet, but I think it’s something else. Something to do with the wigs and the pretence and the falsity. I think maybe September enjoyed the game of it.”
“Oh please! She’d come all this way just for the fantasy? Hell, she could get that in Streatham for a tube fare.”
“Not any more she couldn’t. Anyway, I do.”
“Do what?”
“Enjoy the role playing. I quite like it. New hair, new name. It’s exciting.”
“Yeah, but lying’s part of what you do for a living.”
“Thanks, you put it so nicely. Well, maybe she was a frustrated actress. Maybe that’s the only reason she did it.”
“Right. That and the money.”
“Oh yeah, the money. Well maybe she’s just a con-artist. Conning drunks to buy champagne and conning John Clark to give her all his money. Perhaps she’s the baddie after all.”
“You think so?”
“I don’t know. Everything else just seems so extreme. I know Calendar Girls sounds like something out of a movie, but actually all the girls are really nice, and it’s not as if we don’t know plenty of women in London who’ve paid their way by hostessing.”
“Yeah Saz, only most of them were gay.”
“Who’s to say September isn’t? John Clark said they were ‘friends’ – he was very clear on that. And I believe him – I don’t think he’s the type to have an affair …”
“What’s ‘the type’?”
“You are Carrie, remember? Now shut up and listen. So we assume she wasn’t shagging Mr Clark and though I don’t like James, that’s more because he’s just one of those slimy arrogant men, than because he might be … whatever he might be. But none of the girls would seriously consider having an affair with him – the odd fling maybe, but he certainly isn’t take home to your mother material. All the same, I think he is exactly what he seems …”
“And what’s that?”
“A slightly nasty, definitely shady bloke, who’s involved in something which is bigger than just the facade of ‘Calendar Girls’ – but that’s all. It’s not as if we haven’t come across similar set-ups back home.”
“Yeah sweetheart, but neither of us have ever actually worked in them.”
“I know, but you know what they’re like, you’ve heard the stories – it’s bound to be to do with gambling or drugs or whatever … but despite everything, the strangest person here is still September herself right? The woman who comes over here regularly from London, who has dinner with John Clark and who no-one seems to be able to put a name to. So the answer must lie with her. I still need to get closer to her.”
“Check his records.”
“CDs?”
“No! Records stupid! He must have personnel records. Go through them. See what he’s got on her.”
“Well how do I do that?”
“Oh for God’s sake Saz, you’re the ‘detective’ here, remember? How on earth did you persuade them to give you that Enterprise Allowance?”
“Told them there was a lot of debt collection work in south-east London. Funnily enough, they believed me. What’s that got to do with it?”
“Well you’ll have to get access to his files somehow – I don’t know, break in, scale the drainpipe, bribe the cleaner, marry the owner … do some detecting!”
“I hate all that climbing through windows in the middle of the night shit.”
“When have you ever done it?”
“I haven’t, I just hate the idea.”
“Then walk through the door in broad daylight – which I might point out, is only a few hours away and some of us have creative work to do tomorrow – go to sleep.”
“OK, sorry. Goodnight.”
Saz turned out the light and thought for a while as she watched the lights from the cars in the street play with the
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