Later that evening a Cab swung up the door of one of
London’s numerous hotels carrying a fashionably late Alex Arthurs. Perfect
hair, clean shaven and wearing a black suit with a blue shirt and white tie, he
strode casually through the lobby and into the claws of his most irritating old
school mate.
“Late as usual Alexander.” Whined the voice from behind Alex
“Shut up Pottersby” replied Alex coolly, ignoring the black
suited man with a thinning, suspiciously black hair and a broad flat face.
Once in the functions room he looked out over the spread of
tables. A banner by a stage extended welcome to the old boys and girls Southern
College. He stood on tiptoes searching the sea of faces for a flash of his old
pals.
“What ho!” Came a voice from behind him, he turned to see
three men dressed similarly to him leaning casually around the bar.
“Ah, boys, how are we?” he said, offering a hand to each of
them in turn.
Adrian Clark, Richard Cartwright and Oliver Jeffrey’s along
with Alex had been around together since they had started at school together
aged ten, they had beaten each other black and blue on the rugby field, never
shied away from bouncing each other in cricket and were not above cheating
outrageously in their regular rounds of golf yet they had always stuck firmly
together. They had been rather too caddish in their younger days to win the
affection of any of their female schoolmates so when the meal began as per
usual they found themselves on one of the rowdier all male tables.
The meal passed in a blur of drinks, old jokes, fresh banter
and catch up chatter. Most of the all male tables were former rugby players,
thunderous laughter and backslapping followed most of the wildly acted out
stories from tours and nights outs. As ties loosened the banter began to shoot
from table to table, slowly everyone began to mix together again. On the dance
floor several old flames rekindled as the air of formality from before dinner
relaxed. Alex made hastily for the bar where he bumped into another old friend.
“Lucas Jones, how are you sir” Alex boomed, squeezing
Lucas’s hand.
“Excellent, Excellent,” nodded Lucas, Lucas had been a
friend of his brothers and had left for Harvard after Alex had finished his
second year. Despite the age gap they had got to know each other playing tennis.
“I’ve got a bit of business to talk over with you tomorrow,
give me a call” shouted Lucas over the music, tucking a business card into
Alex’s breast pocket. “Must be off, flight to catch,” he smiled. They shook hands
again and Alex rejoined the revelry.
The rest of the night passed in a blur and the next morning
rolled around with Alex feeling rather worse for wear. ’09:00’ glowed green from an alarm clock by
the bed. ‘My clocks red’ Alex thought as he rubbed at his eyes and rolled over.
He right shoulder touched something warm and soft as he turned. His eyes
widened and he propped himself up on his front and saw a fan of blonde hair
across purple pillows. ‘My pillows are white’ he thought as his mind flashed
back to the previous night trying to work out who it was. Blonde hair, slim, he
searched for other clues, he vaguely remembered green eyes and full red lips.
‘Carla!’ He thought. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, he hoped it
wouldn’t be the last as she stirred and rolled over to face him.
Alex banged through the front door at midday, jacket over
his arm, a button missing from his shirt and a smear of lipstick on his cheek.
Stephanie was sitting on the couch, head bent over the coffee table looking through
several sheets of folders. As she heard his footsteps she stood up,
“Pleasant evening?” she inquired. Alex nodded, grateful to
see two mugs set by the bacon and eggs on the counter. He drank the one that
smelled least like coffee in one and sipped at the other while he attacked the
food. Before he went upstairs to shower he dug the business card Lucas had
given him out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Stephanie.
“You have a meeting with Lucas on Monday at half past eleven”
said Stephanie as Alex sat down next on her on the couch. She had placed three
pint glasses full of water in front of him and a bottle of Lucozade sport.
“You’re filling in at bow for the rowing clubs eight tomorow, I submitted the
fabric selections and the furniture for the unfinished rooms arrives on
Wednesday and the cricket club has asked if you can play a game of 20:20 this
afternoon from four.”
“I assume you know about the credit card problems?” asked
Alex tentatively “as wonderful as you have been in this short space of time I’m
afraid your employment may be a little short term.”
“Not to worry, I shall be around for a while yet” Stephanie
responded with a wry smile. An awkward quiet descended until Stephanie got up
to hunt down Alex’s cricket bag. Alex stared glumly out of the window hoping
that it would rain again so he wouldn’t have to play.
Stamping in angrily from the cricket, Alex tossed his bag
down and strode into the kitchen, he swung open the fridge and plucked out a
bottle of mineral water. He sat on his usual place the counter and stared out
the windows again. After a few minutes of turning over the in-swinger that had
got him out for a duck he looked around the Kitchen. The fruit in the fruit
bowl was there to be eaten, not juiced and added to cocktails and the pots,
pans, crockery and cutlery had finally been taken out of it’s packaging.
Stephanie’s short employment had already made his apartment more homely. The
fact that Stephanie had accomplished in a week what had been on the agenda for
months, making the penthouse inhabitable, putting furniture in all the rooms, Henrys
gap year party venue as well as sorting out his jet lag five minutes after
walking through the door. He looked up again to see a metal strip along the top
of the panorama windows. She had even had blinds put up. On his way to bed he
pressed a series of buttons he had previously thought were broken light
switches and the metal blinds rolled down to black out the large living space.
