I’m talking about what he’s going to pay you. Are you happy with it?’
Oliver didn’t even bother to turn round. ‘Yeah, sure, minimum wage is what I went to uni for. Great, bring it on.’
Russ did not reply.
Oliver was used to his father’s intimidation by silence, so he carried on with what he was doing, refusing to be cowed.
More silence.
More mopping.
Longer silence.
Careful mopping.
‘Oliver.’
Wishing he felt as though he’d won while somehow knowing he hadn’t, Oliver turned around.
‘I want to help you, you understand that, don’t you?’ Russ said.
Oliver nodded, because yeah, he guessed he did, it was just that they had different views on help.
‘My contacts in the advertising world are limited, I’ve already told you that ...’
‘We don’t have to go through this again, Dad.’
‘Would you rather not work with Paul?’
‘No, it’s cool.’
‘So what’s the problem?’
‘There isn’t one.’
Another Dad silence.
Oliver sipped from what was left in the can.
‘Do you have any interviews lined up?’ Russ asked.
‘Not right now, but I’m on it.’
Russ nodded slowly. ‘I hope you’ve come to realise what screwing up your internship with McCanns has cost you.’
Oliver’s face tightened with anger and embarrassment. ‘That wasn’t my fault,’ he cried. ‘I didn’t ask that stupid woman to come on to me ...’
‘Maybe not, but you could have backed away ...’
‘Like she gave me a chance. Anyway, yeah, if it satisfies you, I do realise what it’s cost me, OK? I could probably have a job there right now, working my way up, but I haven’t, because I gave some senior exec what she was begging for.’
Not entirely unsympathetic to the situation his son had found himself in, nor impressed either, Russ decided to let the matter go, already half-regretting even bringing it up. He’d seen the woman and though she was easily old enough to be Oliver’s mother, there weren’t many lads his age, or any other, who’d have been able to turn her down. ‘There is someone I’ve been thinking about who might be able to help,’ he said deliberately. ‘He’s not actually in advertising, but ...’
‘I can do this, Dad. OK?’
Russ’s eyes narrowed.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ Oliver demanded. ‘I told you, I can do it.’
‘Frankly, I’d find that easier to believe if I saw some energy going into the search.’
Oliver’s eyes turned flinty. ‘You don’t know what I’m doing, or who I’m talking to.’
‘Then tell me. If nothing else it might put my mind at rest.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ Oliver seethed, throwing out his arms. ‘Why do you always have to do this?’
‘Do what?’
‘Make an issue out of everything?’
‘My son’s future happens to be a very big issue for me, I just wish I could believe it was one for him too.’
Oliver flushed with fury. ‘I don’t have to stick around here putting up with this shit,’ he growled.
‘Don’t go any further than that door,’ Russ warned him quietly.
Spinning round, Oliver shouted, ‘When do you get off treating me like a kid? I’m twenty-one ...’
‘I’m perfectly aware of how old you are, and when you start acting your age I’m sure I won’t have any problem ...’
‘Wrong! You always have a problem with me. Just because I’m not like Charlie, top of everything, always going out of his way to make Daddy proud ...’
‘Stop being ridiculous,’ Russ interrupted. ‘You’re totally different characters, and I for one am glad of it. But you , young man, have got to start facing up to the fact that we don’t get anything in this life unless we work for it, and the work doesn’t stop when university is over. In fact, it’s just the beginning, because this is where the really hard part comes in, and so far I’m not seeing you grasping that.’
Furious, Oliver shouted, ‘I don’t want to spend the next six months working as a fucking gofer on those shit little
Oliver didn’t even bother to turn round. ‘Yeah, sure, minimum wage is what I went to uni for. Great, bring it on.’
Russ did not reply.
Oliver was used to his father’s intimidation by silence, so he carried on with what he was doing, refusing to be cowed.
More silence.
More mopping.
Longer silence.
Careful mopping.
‘Oliver.’
Wishing he felt as though he’d won while somehow knowing he hadn’t, Oliver turned around.
‘I want to help you, you understand that, don’t you?’ Russ said.
Oliver nodded, because yeah, he guessed he did, it was just that they had different views on help.
‘My contacts in the advertising world are limited, I’ve already told you that ...’
‘We don’t have to go through this again, Dad.’
‘Would you rather not work with Paul?’
‘No, it’s cool.’
‘So what’s the problem?’
‘There isn’t one.’
Another Dad silence.
Oliver sipped from what was left in the can.
‘Do you have any interviews lined up?’ Russ asked.
‘Not right now, but I’m on it.’
Russ nodded slowly. ‘I hope you’ve come to realise what screwing up your internship with McCanns has cost you.’
Oliver’s face tightened with anger and embarrassment. ‘That wasn’t my fault,’ he cried. ‘I didn’t ask that stupid woman to come on to me ...’
‘Maybe not, but you could have backed away ...’
‘Like she gave me a chance. Anyway, yeah, if it satisfies you, I do realise what it’s cost me, OK? I could probably have a job there right now, working my way up, but I haven’t, because I gave some senior exec what she was begging for.’
Not entirely unsympathetic to the situation his son had found himself in, nor impressed either, Russ decided to let the matter go, already half-regretting even bringing it up. He’d seen the woman and though she was easily old enough to be Oliver’s mother, there weren’t many lads his age, or any other, who’d have been able to turn her down. ‘There is someone I’ve been thinking about who might be able to help,’ he said deliberately. ‘He’s not actually in advertising, but ...’
‘I can do this, Dad. OK?’
Russ’s eyes narrowed.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ Oliver demanded. ‘I told you, I can do it.’
‘Frankly, I’d find that easier to believe if I saw some energy going into the search.’
Oliver’s eyes turned flinty. ‘You don’t know what I’m doing, or who I’m talking to.’
‘Then tell me. If nothing else it might put my mind at rest.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ Oliver seethed, throwing out his arms. ‘Why do you always have to do this?’
‘Do what?’
‘Make an issue out of everything?’
‘My son’s future happens to be a very big issue for me, I just wish I could believe it was one for him too.’
Oliver flushed with fury. ‘I don’t have to stick around here putting up with this shit,’ he growled.
‘Don’t go any further than that door,’ Russ warned him quietly.
Spinning round, Oliver shouted, ‘When do you get off treating me like a kid? I’m twenty-one ...’
‘I’m perfectly aware of how old you are, and when you start acting your age I’m sure I won’t have any problem ...’
‘Wrong! You always have a problem with me. Just because I’m not like Charlie, top of everything, always going out of his way to make Daddy proud ...’
‘Stop being ridiculous,’ Russ interrupted. ‘You’re totally different characters, and I for one am glad of it. But you , young man, have got to start facing up to the fact that we don’t get anything in this life unless we work for it, and the work doesn’t stop when university is over. In fact, it’s just the beginning, because this is where the really hard part comes in, and so far I’m not seeing you grasping that.’
Furious, Oliver shouted, ‘I don’t want to spend the next six months working as a fucking gofer on those shit little
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