Verbatim

by Andrew Hill

  The meeting was no more than just a few minutes old when it became clear Charlie Spencer already had a writer in mind who’d been virtually offered the job and why not he’s an experienced TV writer who’s written cop shows and hospital soaps. Carol could think of no reason for objecting, in any case she felt screenplay writing wasn’t for her, if anything, she wanted to leave Genevieve behind. “It’s been a wonderful journey but the time for ‘goodbye Genevieve’ has come.” These were the thoughts now passing through her mind and it was wise to let another take the helm, Carol would still be paid.

  At the meeting’s conclusion Charlie’s internal phone rang. He politely apologised to Carol before answering.

  “Tell him to come straight in will you.”

  At that there was a knock on the door and in walked a tall good looking man of around forty with blue eyes and light brown hair who made an immediate impact on Carol.

  “Ah, Quinton,” said Charlie Spencer, “meet Verity Green.” So Carol had now met this mysterious writer of whom she’d been told but knew little about.

  It was agreed that Carol and Quinton should discuss possible changes to the plot in order to tighten it up for the small screen and to this end the two would go to a small restaurant in Oxford where, as fate would have it, Quinton also lives and discuss the matter over a meal.

  Several meals later it was clear that Carol would agree to whatever Quinton wanted and these meetings weren’t needed for that purpose at all but Carol was hardly about to suggest stopping them. Quinton had been married before but it didn’t take and they were divorced a couple of years later. Several relationships have come and gone but never quite bloomed, now he was alone. Carol had been alone for a long time and perhaps now was the time to do something about it. Their next meeting was not at the restaurant. Carol saw to it that it was in her own home where she provided the meal and took full advantage of Josh being away on a stopover.

  It was the following day after Quinton had left that Josh returned home and could see the change in his mother; he realised that she and Quinton, who he had never actually met, had spent the night together but said nothing and kept his own counsel.

  Carol and Quinton would see each other more and more and it was less and less about a screenplay.

  The two have taken a walk through the local park; when you’ve been sitting at a desk all day writing you need to put down your pen and paper and go, otherwise you’ll be sitting in your house for twenty-four hours and neither of them wanted that. It was now a week or so after their first night together and were returning at around five. Carol turned the key and pushed open the door and could see straight away that Josh was home. Carol could always tell when Josh was at home; as proud of him as she was it was his usual practice to dump his outdoor clothes over the banister instead of on a hook where they’re supposed to be. Carol moves them over and sees among them the coat of a female which she had never seen before followed by voices upstairs, one male which was clearly Josh’s and one unfamiliar female. Carol ascended the stairs to Josh’s room, tapped gently on the door, pushed it open and entered without invitation; there was Josh with a teenage girl she had never seen before except once or twice at school open days but Carol hardly recognised her from those. Carol’s tap on the door precipitated the immediate withdrawal of the two occupants’ proximity and was the cue for the conversation to stop. Carol had straightaway noticed this of course and looked over towards the slim rather attractive brunette and spoke:

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

  “This is Charlotte.”

  It was soon established that she was Charlotte Bloom who was in the same class as Josh and just two months his junior. It was Carol’s first encounter with a girlfriend of her son. I could say it came as a relief to discover that Josh perhaps isn’t gay, today we embrace all sexuality but Carol was happy that her son seemed to be involved with a girl.

  Carol invited her to stay for tea and the three made their way downstairs to the kitchen where Josh, for the first time, met Quinton. If being found by his mother alone with a girl was slightly embarrassing to Josh he didn’t show it nor did he show any at the meeting of his mother’s boyfriend. Josh had often wondered if one day he would acquire a new father sometime and wasn’t sure what to make of his mother’s apparent choice.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” He left as much time before asking as his mother had left him. When introducing Quinton to Josh and Charlotte she called her Josh’s girlfriend; another slightly embarrassing moment for Josh.

  The four were now acquainted and sat down to a light tea, they didn’t say very much, perhaps they were all a little uncomfortable with the situation.

  Soon tea was over and Quinton and Charlotte had returned home leaving Carol and Josh together.

  “Is Quinton going to be my new father?”

  “Don’t jump too far ahead, I didn’t ask if Charlotte is going to be my new daughter-in-law.”

  “You don’t have an old one,” responded Josh

  Josh is of the age where he needs a father. Carol knew this and she believed Quinton had the right parental instincts if the opportunity arose; Carol was not yet too old to become a mother for a second time. But perhaps I’m the one who’s leaping ahead. Carol may not be too old to have another baby but does she want one and how would Josh feel about it?

  * * *

  At her desk Carol was finishing what she wants to be the last novel in the Genevieve series, when the sound of a French horn was heard. Nothing beautiful, no Mozart, no Richard Strauss just scales and arpeggios but they have to be practised. As much as Carol approves of her son’s practice it did sometimes disturb her thoughts; she rose and went over to her study door and closed it. The sound quietened slightly and Carol returned to her task of resolving the final plot twist. She was about to take up the fountain pen once more – she always used a fountain pen never a ballpoint when for the first time it occurred to her that she hadn’t heard him practice for a couple of days which was unusual as he was so conscientious about it. It suddenly crossed her mind that there seem to be days when he doesn’t practice. Carol does spend a lot of time at Quinton’s place. “Maybe Josh practices when I’m not about. Yes, that must be it.” It seemed a natural enough explanation added to which there are distractions, one of them is called Charlotte who also hasn’t been around of late. Have they broken up? It’s no big deal at that age girlfriends come and go.

  The French horn stopped as suddenly as it started. Now the scales were finished Carol expected to hear a beautiful melody but instead she heard only the opening and closing of the front door. Carol went over to the window and looked out over the front garden and there was Josh walking, rather dejectedly it seemed to Carol, towards the front gate. Then he walked in the direction of the park.

  “There’s something the matter,” thought Carol as she watched him slowly disappearing up the road and out of sight. After he’d gone she kept looking out in his direction in contemplation before making the decision to go into his room.

  Nothing unusual about it being untidy except that Josh had left his French horn lying on the armchair. Now that was something he was always so meticulous about; placing it on its proper stand. Carol turned to leave the room when she noticed his desktop computer was left on when a very disturbing thought came to her, in fact you could say it overtook her. Slowly she started to walk towards it and sat down in front of the screen.

  “Now,” she thought, “How can I find his browsing history?”

  It didn’t seem right somehow to be prying into her son’s business but he had only just turned fifteen; the age you think you know everything but really know very little. Soon Carol had found his emails and looked through them, there didn’t seem to be anything untoward but there was an explanation as to Charlotte’s absence; she had clearly found another boy and judging by his photograph was much more of a ‘man’ than Josh. Could th
is be the reason he’s down? Carol was hoping that it was as he’ll soon get over it; he’ll be ditched by quite a few girlfriends before Miss Right comes along.

  Carol thought it was time to put the computer back to the screen she found it on so as not to alert Josh. After achieving that small task she rose and made her way to the door when she was stopped in her tracks by the ‘ping’ of an arriving e-mail.

  “It’s probably quite innocent,” But how can she be sure?

  Carol couldn’t ignore it and went over to the computer to take a look. It was from a school friend, Mick, who she knew a little and it contained nothing to worry about, it was just to let Josh know not to come over to his place that evening because some relatives had arrived unexpectedly and he was required to spend time with them. Carol was very much relieved and returned to her study to finally complete the novel, after that she can put it aside for a few months and come back to it. She tried but the ideas simply wouldn’t flow and she had no choice but to put down her pen and forget the whole thing, “I’ll come back to it tomorrow.” Her worries about Josh had upset her too much to continue the book. Carol took the latest revision of the TV script for Dead Letter Perfect which Quinton had given her and began to read. Unable to get herself immersed in it, Carol soon put it down and glanced in the direction of the clock which informed her of two things, first it was teatime and second, rather more concerning, it was late for Josh not to have returned or called in. A look out of the window in the direction of the park revealed no sign of him.

  “I’ll leave it a little while,” was her initial reaction and down she went to the kitchen for a bite to eat. But she didn’t eat; a ham sandwich remained on the plate intact.

  Five became six, six became seven, and this was too much for Carol to bear. She rushed up to his room to see if he’d accidentally left his phone behind; there was no sign of it. After feeling in various pockets there was still no sign of it. It would have been most unusual for him to leave the house without it, he even took it to the toilet! Carol would occasionally forget to take hers as would Quinton but young people just can’t live without them.

  “There is no way he would have gone out without it.”

  There was only one option remaining for Carol to settle her mind and that was the obvious one, she picked up the phone to dial Josh’s number but hesitated; she was afraid he might not answer and what would that mean? But she managed the courage and selected his name from the list then hit the call button. The ring tone sounded and kept on sounding with no reply from Josh.

  “Maybe he’s using it and can’t reply.” She paused for thought, “No, it would have gone to voicemail straight away.” Then it did go into voicemail, Carol left no message, he would see a missed call and ring back, wouldn’t he?

  Almost in total panic Carol marched to the front door and out into the garden slamming the door behind her but completely forgetting to lock it. She strode out quickly into the street and briskly towards the park. Knowing his haunts, knowing where he often hangs around with his mates gave her somewhere positive to go but wherever she looked there was no sign of a red haired teenage boy.

  After half an hour of fruitless searching she walked into Oxford city centre and looked in all the cafés and other places he might be but still he could not be found. By now Carol was in a real panic and searched for her mobile phone to ring Quinton but after leaving the house in such a mental state she soon realised that her phone was sitting on the desk in her study.

  Quinton didn’t live too far away and it was now quicker to walk there than to walk home, so off she marched occasionally breaking into a run.

  “Maybe he’s there, but he would have phoned to say so.”

  The walk to Quinton’s house was not a long one though to Carol it seemed an age. Eventually reaching to the front gate she wondered:

  “Suppose he’s not in,” this was a real worry for Carol. As she grew ever closer to the front door it was clear that no lights were on though the fading glow of the sunset suggested they would be. Quinton’s writing room was at the rear of his large five-bedroomed Georgian building.

  She frantically knocked at the door and rang the bell repeatedly without any response from inside. Anxiously walking around to the rear, and looking up at Quinton’s writing room no light was on. Carol agitatedly walked up the garden path turned and looked again at the study window in the vain hope that the light would be on. Of course it wasn’t. What more could she do but return home, a home that was right across the other side of Oxford. The first taxi Carol saw she hailed frantically fortunately it was vacant. Opening the door Carol was quickly in the rear seat and slammed the door nearly deafening the driver. Carol gave her address and off they went. The driver, a man in his thirties and of Asian origin went unnoticed by Carol but he noticed her and kept on glancing in his interior mirror. The driver was accustomed to distressed people getting into his cab but none, in his experience, had looked more so than Carol now did. So concerned about her was he that he pulled up on the side of the road, he looked back at her saying:

  “Are you all right, miss?”

  Carol responded with an unconvincing, “yes,” and continued, “now please take me home as quickly as you can.” The driver started up once more and was soon approaching Didcot Road. She paid him with a ten pound note and quickly left the taxi saying nothing. The driver remained for a moment watching her fumble for her front door key which eventually came to hand but she couldn’t get it in.

  “What’s wrong with this damn thing?” Only she didn’t say ‘damn’. Finally she managed to push the door open not registering that it wasn’t actually locked.

  With the taxi driver still looking on Carol went inside and slammed the door behind her. The driver saw lights come on through the frosted glass of the front door, he sat and thought for a few moments before driving off in search of his next fare.

  Carol stopped in her tracks when she saw the very coat Josh had been wearing when leaving the house hanging over the banister. She went straight up the stairs to his room and was about to walk in when she became aware that he was very quiet. For a moment she hung on and listened before tapping on the door and entering without waiting for an invitation.

  Josh turned and looked at his mother who could see at once that he had been crying.

  Her voice was firm but not accusatory, “Where have you been?”

  “Nowhere.”

  “Nowhere doesn’t exist.”

  “I went to Mick’s.”

  That could be true, he hadn’t seen the e-mail before leaving the house but Mick lived in the opposite direction to the park.

  “It’s late and you didn’t phone, have you been at Mick’s all this time?”

  For no obvious reason Josh sat on his bed and wept.

  His mother moved over and sat next to him. It was the first time Josh’s mother had seen him cry since he was a little boy, it was upsetting but was also a little uplifting. She didn’t want her son to grow up forever concealing his true emotions and holding things in until they burst but equally she didn’t want a son who was forever displaying his emotions as if to say “I’m a male and have the same right, or should I say need, to exhibit feeling as much as any female.” You’ve seen it, the almost obscene manner that many men embrace and kiss each other. If one person in a partnership is prone to showing their emotions then it is better that the other is less prone and if that’s the man what’s your problem? Josh’s display of emotion was not being put on he was weeping with genuine sadness.

  Josh gathered himself after a short while and told his mother the full story.

  “Is that all it is?” After all her worries about taking drugs and being in trouble with the dealers or other horror stories you may think of; there was plenty for parents to worry about long before Internet ‘grooming’ had ever existed, it was all about Charlotte ditching him for some brainless and talentless hunk. Carol had
seen a photograph of him and could see why Josh had thought of him in that light but Carol understood the situation from a woman’s viewpoint and easily saw how a teenage girl would be attracted by him. It was all such a relief she almost cried herself. It is perhaps at moments like these more than at any other time of childhood that you first realise you’ve brought a human being into the world with the frailties we all share.

  He really did go to Mick’s after he had been round the park and stayed until his welcome was outlived. Mick’s, the one place she didn’t think to look.

  “Why didn’t you phone me? I was getting very worried. That’s why I’ve been out – looking for you.”

  “I just didn’t give it a thought.”

  “Why didn’t you answer when I rang?”

  Josh explained that his phone was on silent and although he felt the vibrations he just didn’t feel like answering. Carol scolded him for not checking a little later who was phoning.

  So the Charlotte era of Josh’s life had been drawn to a close.

  Carol no longer knew what to say and looked idly around. Josh’s French horn was next to her and she gently moved her fingers along the surface of the bell. She stopped, moved her fingers back again over the same area, and looked carefully at it before commenting:

  “There’s a small dent here.”