has always disapproved of my choice of men, preferring matinée-idol-type looks rather than my paleand wistful working-class-hero types. Mack is actually a bit of both.
‘Yes but, Leila, what do I do with him now? I’m supposed to meet him in the bar, but I just know someone will see us. I can’t handle this at all, and I haven’t brought any decent clothes, and anyway I’m totally knackered.’
‘Oh stop it, and have some fun. What clothes have you got? Oh God, not those awful jeans.’
A rather painful conversation follows where Leila declares she does not know why I insist on going round dressed like a runner, and she told me to throw out that hideous old bra years ago. Then she redeems herself, as she always does.
‘Well, it’s a good job you’re so gorgeous, because you really are hopeless. Just wear a white T-shirt, tight, use safety pins at the sides if you have to, and that horrible old leather jacket but don’t do it up, and the cleanest jeans you can find. And don’t wear your woolly hat. And not those awful old deck shoes, have bare feet if you have to. Have you got lots of condoms?’
‘Leila, shut up. We are going to have a professional chat and sort this out so it’s not a problem tomorrow.’
‘Yes, and then you are going to shag him senseless. Have you got condoms?’
‘Yes. I’ve got my emergency packet in my washbag, the ones you made me buy last year.’
‘Good. Have they gone past their sell-by date?’
‘Leila, I’m warning you.’
‘OK. Well, be careful, darling, and have fun. And you can tell me all about it when you get home. Love you, bye.’
And with that she is gone. I ring Mum and chat to Charlie, who is staying up late as a special treat.
‘Nana made sausages for tea and they were great. Much better than you do them. You should do them in the fryingpan like Nana, you know, Mummy. And Grandad is taking me fishing tomorrow, and we may catch a shark.’
I tell him I’m not sure there are sharks in the local lake, and he tells me I know nothing about fishing and should leave it to him and Grandad.
I still can’t work out what to say to Mack, but put on the outfit suggested by Leila just in case. At five to nine I go downstairs, find a quiet corner in the bar and order a triple vodka. All the financial lot from last night are still in the restaurant, so the bar is blissfully quiet. Mack saunters in and orders a beer, then comes over and sits down.
‘Look, I really am sorry. I just didn’t want to talk about bloody advertising all night, but I never thought you would turn out to be the bloody producer.’
‘What do you mean by that – don’t I look like a producer?’
‘Well, to be honest, no. You don’t look demented enough.’
I’m secretly rather charmed by this, but try not to let it show.
‘So, what do you suggest we do now? I think we should pretend it never happened, and get on with the job.’
Actually seeing him again has made me realise I think the direct opposite of this, but I don’t want to appear to be a total pushover.
‘Yes, well, I’ve been thinking about that. And you see the thing is I really don’t want to do that. So I don’t really think that’s an option.’
I’m half thrilled by this, and half furious. Christ, it’s like being fifteen again. As if it’s just up to him to decide. I’m about to tell him exactly how annoying he is when he leans over and kisses me. Hard. We are in the midst of a passionate clinch when two of the crew, George and Kevin, walk in.
They stand completely still in the doorway and watch, with their mouths slightly open.
‘You total fucker, two of the crew have just walked in.’
‘Shit.’
George and Kevin sit down at the bar, and pretend not to see us. But I know they have, and they know I know.
‘I know. I’ll go up to my room, and you can chat with the boys and then follow me up.’
‘And that’s your plan, is it?’
‘Yesh, Moneypenny, and it’s a damned good one.’
I
‘Yes but, Leila, what do I do with him now? I’m supposed to meet him in the bar, but I just know someone will see us. I can’t handle this at all, and I haven’t brought any decent clothes, and anyway I’m totally knackered.’
‘Oh stop it, and have some fun. What clothes have you got? Oh God, not those awful jeans.’
A rather painful conversation follows where Leila declares she does not know why I insist on going round dressed like a runner, and she told me to throw out that hideous old bra years ago. Then she redeems herself, as she always does.
‘Well, it’s a good job you’re so gorgeous, because you really are hopeless. Just wear a white T-shirt, tight, use safety pins at the sides if you have to, and that horrible old leather jacket but don’t do it up, and the cleanest jeans you can find. And don’t wear your woolly hat. And not those awful old deck shoes, have bare feet if you have to. Have you got lots of condoms?’
‘Leila, shut up. We are going to have a professional chat and sort this out so it’s not a problem tomorrow.’
‘Yes, and then you are going to shag him senseless. Have you got condoms?’
‘Yes. I’ve got my emergency packet in my washbag, the ones you made me buy last year.’
‘Good. Have they gone past their sell-by date?’
‘Leila, I’m warning you.’
‘OK. Well, be careful, darling, and have fun. And you can tell me all about it when you get home. Love you, bye.’
And with that she is gone. I ring Mum and chat to Charlie, who is staying up late as a special treat.
‘Nana made sausages for tea and they were great. Much better than you do them. You should do them in the fryingpan like Nana, you know, Mummy. And Grandad is taking me fishing tomorrow, and we may catch a shark.’
I tell him I’m not sure there are sharks in the local lake, and he tells me I know nothing about fishing and should leave it to him and Grandad.
I still can’t work out what to say to Mack, but put on the outfit suggested by Leila just in case. At five to nine I go downstairs, find a quiet corner in the bar and order a triple vodka. All the financial lot from last night are still in the restaurant, so the bar is blissfully quiet. Mack saunters in and orders a beer, then comes over and sits down.
‘Look, I really am sorry. I just didn’t want to talk about bloody advertising all night, but I never thought you would turn out to be the bloody producer.’
‘What do you mean by that – don’t I look like a producer?’
‘Well, to be honest, no. You don’t look demented enough.’
I’m secretly rather charmed by this, but try not to let it show.
‘So, what do you suggest we do now? I think we should pretend it never happened, and get on with the job.’
Actually seeing him again has made me realise I think the direct opposite of this, but I don’t want to appear to be a total pushover.
‘Yes, well, I’ve been thinking about that. And you see the thing is I really don’t want to do that. So I don’t really think that’s an option.’
I’m half thrilled by this, and half furious. Christ, it’s like being fifteen again. As if it’s just up to him to decide. I’m about to tell him exactly how annoying he is when he leans over and kisses me. Hard. We are in the midst of a passionate clinch when two of the crew, George and Kevin, walk in.
They stand completely still in the doorway and watch, with their mouths slightly open.
‘You total fucker, two of the crew have just walked in.’
‘Shit.’
George and Kevin sit down at the bar, and pretend not to see us. But I know they have, and they know I know.
‘I know. I’ll go up to my room, and you can chat with the boys and then follow me up.’
‘And that’s your plan, is it?’
‘Yesh, Moneypenny, and it’s a damned good one.’
I
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