NaNoWriMo sjjh 2007

Unknown chapter number one

[don’t know which chapter this will be, possibly first after the prologue]

 

“You should tell her how feel, Bob,” said Emily. “We like that.”

“Tell her I’m attracted to her, you mean?”

“Yes but, asterisks, don’t say ‘I’m attracted to you’. That’s lamest.”

“What then?”

“Think of something. You’re intelligent.”

“Yeah, well, intelligent doesn’t have pulling power these days.”

“Yes it does. And you’re funny. And you can do things with computers.”

“Linda actually knows how to do things with computers, remember? Other than play that quacky duck game.”

“Haven’t played that for ages.” Emily sipped her wine. “Super Marx Brothers though … Have you played that?”

“No.”

“It’s fantastic. You start with Chico, the one who can’t talk, and you have to get the piano keys and then … then what? Oh yeah there’s a bit with Harpo and you have to get his cigar in, dodging his eyebrows and then there’s a bit with the other one. I can’t do that, I get Matt to go through that level and I get him a coffee. Then there’s Lydia the tattooed lady, like in the Muppet show … what’s wrong?”

Robert was holding his head in his hands.

“Groucho is the one who smoked cigars and had painted on eyebrows. Lydia the Tattooed Lady is a song written for the Marx brothers At the Circus, quite a few years before the Muppets were even thought of. And Harpo is the one who couldn’t talk, on stage that is.”

“You’ve got to shake this geeky need to always tell people when they’re wrong.”

“You happened to be wrong about the most important comedy act, well, ever.”

“Does it matter?”

Robert took a sip of his beer.

“Does it?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“See, you knew it didn’t. You’re intelligent but you’re wasting it on being right about stuff instead of thinking how to make yourself attractive to Linda.”

“Looks like I’m too late, see?”

Emily looked across the crowded room and saw Linda and a man she didn’t know standing close to one another. Both had their phones in their hands.

“They’re just bluetoothing each other their numbers or something.”

“It’s a form of intercourse.”

“Shut up,” said Emily. “Bluetooth doesn’t work anyway, they’ll have got nowhere.”

“It works if you know what you’re doing. Which Linda does. He’ll probably pretend his isn’t working to appeal to her maternal side.”

“Why couldn’t you appeal to her maternal side?”

“Hang on, one minute I’ve got to be a cross between James Bond and Bill Gates to get her, next minute I’ve got to be Macaulay Culkin.”

“Who?”

“He’s a child actor. I was stumped, I had to come up with something quick or I’d have lost the moment.”

“Oh right, to get her maternal side. You know what? I don’t think Linda has a maternal side. That guy’s getting nowhere.”

“And they move towards the dance floor.”

“Well, it’s far too early for the men to be dancing. He must be gay.”

“Hey, I should just go over and say that. ‘This guy’s gay. Can I cut in?’”

Emily laughed. “You really should. See, you’re funny.”

“Or homophobic.”

“You think too much, Bob. I’m a circulate.”

“Don’t go yet, Mil. Look, as a woman, as somebody who knows Linda, do you think she’s attracted to me?”

“Very. You’re funny, you’re intelligent, she knows you.”

“So I’m irresistible?”

“Yes.”

“Heh. Lucky for my marriage I’m paralysed by self-loathing then.”

“It’s just flirting, Bob. It’s OK. I do it all the time, my boyfriend doesn’t mind. Well, much.”

Emily swerved away from Bob. She drifted between clumps of people until she spotted a familiar backside.

 

“Hey-yay!” Matt squealed. “Mil, you steel-gripped mental. Ow.”

“C’mon, fight back. Clench it you limpy. C’mon.”

“Nngn. Rrrrarrrr. Mwurgh”

The young men around Matt started laughing, except for one.

“Ooh, not bad, bouncy-bouncy. Now see how you like my diggy inny painted nails, Westerner.”

“No, no, not the nails. Aghhh, agghhh. The engines cannae tae it cap’n. I’m gonnae fairt.”

Emily released the corduroy-clad pertness from her claw. “Matt, you’re disgusting.”

“Mil, you hooligan. That’s really sore.” Matt rubbed his buttock. “So in answer to your question, Jason, this is what it’s like to work with Emily.”

“A pain in the arse,” somebody said.

Almost everybody laughed again. This time Emily noticed the one man who wasn’t laughing.

“Jason,” she said. “You made it then.”

“Yeah,” said Jason.

“We were just telling Jason what it’s like to work with you,” said Matt.

“It’s good when she wears a skirt,” another male voice chipped in.

“Yeah?” said Jason. “Why’s that then?”

“Because,”

“Because why? Because you like to look at her legs?”

“Look mate,” said Matt. “We don’t mean anything by it. It’s just office banter.”

“Mil has got champion legs though.”

Emily tugged at the hem of her skirt.

“I like them,” said Jason.

“Jason, come over here and get a drink,” Emily said.

“I’ve got a drink. And we’re just having fun. We’re talking about your champion legs. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just banter.”

Silence boiled out from Jason, engulfing the circle of men. Emily felt her hair blowing away from her face. She took Jason by the wrist and dragged him away.

“Thanks a lot.”

“What?”

“I have to work with those guys every day.”

“Can’t hear you.”

“I said – oh, you heard what I said.”

“Still can’t hear you.”

“Okay, let’s go somewhere quiet.”

“No, let’s go somewhere loud.”

Emily dragged Jason through a door.

“This is the gents,” he said.

“Then maybe you can be a gentleman.”

“I was being a gentleman, defending his lady’s honour.”

“No, you were making my life a misery and making my colleagues uncomfortable.”

Jason took a swig from his bottled beer.

“Mind if I take a slash, while we’re in here? You can go on talking.”

“Whatever, Jason.”

“Hold this.” He handed her his beer.

Emily gulped what was left. She lowered the empty bottle to see Jason standing at the urinal. She belched.

Jason snorted, his stream waved. “Very ladylike.”

“Yeah, so’s this.” Emily hurled the bottle at the urinal, where it shattered in a glittering green explosion.

Jason yelped and danced backwards.

“What are you doing?” he squealed. “Have I got any on me?”

“Any what? Urine?” she said. “Yeah, there’s some on your shoes.”

“No glass, you crazy bitch. It smashed. I might have some on my cock.”

“Look for yourself. You love it so much.”

“I can’t move, I might cut myself.”

“I don’t want to look at it. In fact, I don’t want to see it ever again.”

“Don’t be silly Milly -”

“He’s a poet and he didn’t know it. Still, it’ll take more than love poetry to win me back I’m afraid.”

“You’ve got to help me. You did this.”

“Have you any idea how ridiculous you look, Jase, standing there with your willy out and your hands up? Now, if your willy was standing up and telling me to help you and you weren’t moving your lips, that might impress me. As it is, and I admit I’m speaking as somebody with no first-hand experience of having a penis, I think it works better inside your pants.”

Jason brought his hands close to his face and blew on them. He turned them over and back. Apparently happy with this initial inspection, he continued. He took the end of his penis in one hand and twisted it left and right.

“Hey, you’ve topped your ridiculousness. I mean, what do you look like, bent over and peering at your own cock? Maybe like a fisherman. Have you got the hook out?”

Jason raised his other hand and pointed at Emily. “You just wait there.”

“Oh I’m waiting, I wouldn’t miss this for all the golatinum in Bodorania. This is my best break-up ever. I chucked a bottle and a boyfriend in one.”

“You’ll see in a minute. This isn’t Bodoroonia, you are not in a cartoon, and violence hurts.”

“Doesn’t it smart when you twist it like that? I never noticed that freckle before. Maybe it’s a malignant melanoma and it’ll fall off soon. Might improve your personality.”

Jason packed his penis and zipped up his fly. He locked his gaze with Emily’s. The man took a pace towards her.

Emily felt a bubbling in her stomach. Don’t be scared, she told herself. But she was.

Jason took another step.

It’s the silence that’s frightening, she thought. Say something to deflate him.

“Slowly, menacingly, he stalked towards her,” she said, then “Aah”.

Jason had taken a handful of her hair with a snatch. He twisted.

“Jason … no … please…”

“Funny now, isn’t it. Keep talking.”

Emily couldn’t. Air was panting through her but she was suffocating.

“Nothing to say, Mil?”

Jason dragged her head down and started walking. Bent over, Emily saw her heels skittering along the tiled floor.

“Let’s see how you like being showered in broken glass.”

Will her hurt me, Emily wondered? Is he serious? If he is I should scream, get help.

Emily realised that she had never screamed. She didn’t know how. Now I’m acting like Bob, she thought, thinking too much. You can scream, just open your mouth and let it out, let it all out.

“And if you’re thinking of screaming, don’t. You started this by throwing the bottle, and I’ll say so. It’ll be self-defence. You can’t go round throwing bottles at people.”

Emily found herself looking at the urinal, and smelling it. She had never been this close to one before. It was like a rock pool: white porcelain sands, bottle-green fins, disinfectant-blue box-crabs, thin yellow water. A stinking rock pool.

“I’m David Bellamy,” said Jason. “Let’s have a wummage in my world of wurine.”