by Simon Brooke
“Stop saying that. It wasn’t your fault. Lauren and I split up because we’d both changed, become different people. Anyway, I don’t believe you ever feel guilty.”
She laughed and then caught her breath as if she was going to cry.
“I don’t often, but I suppose that’s it, when I do, I feel very guilty, really terrible.” Yet again, I found myself wondering again what it must be like to be Nora.
“But didn’t you think you meant something to me?” I asked, kinder now. She thought it over for a moment.
“I didn’t know,” she said in a small voice. “I just…even though we’d slept together I thought at best I was the other woman and probably not even that, just a couple of quick fucks.”
“Nora, I told you, you were never—”
“Yeah, but what else would you say? You were hardly going to admit it, were you?” I sensed her lean forward a bit and I opened my eyes to look at her. “Charlie, I’ve been thinking about this since we first slept together. The thing is, I’ve always been the one boys sleep with once or twice before they go back to their regular girlfriends—the girlfriends who’ve met their parents, who are elegant and well dressed, can make polite small talk, who’ll give them beautiful kids without any trouble. I’m trouble, that’s it, that’s what I am. Oh, I know I ask for it, but sometimes I just want to be normal, feel accepted, wanted.” She takes a deep breath. “And that’s how you make me feel.”
I found tears coming into my own eyes suddenly. I tried to say “I love you,” but my voice didn’t work properly and I ended up mouthing the words at her. Then I must have fallen asleep again, a victim of exhaustion and the remains of the sleeping pills. Funnily enough, after that conversation about in-laws, my mum came to see me. She and Nora seemed to get on. I can’t remember what they talked about—me mainly—but I began to notice how relaxed my mum was around Nora even when Nora knocked her tea flying across the room during a reenactment of our visit to Piers and I realised for the first time how Mum was actually intimidated by Lauren whenever they met.
Suddenly I’m back in the market and Guy is watching me, intrigued.
I laugh shyly and look down at my empty plate.
“Have some of their fish,” he says, getting up from his bar stool. “Look, come over here and choose what you want. It’s so fresh! It was still swimming in the sea just a few hours ago.”
We choose a fillet of salmon for him and some swordfish for me. Guy orders them again in his effortless Catalan and in the meanwhile we chew on fresh bread, ragged with tomato and garlic and drizzled with olive oil.
“You and Lauren managed to sort things out between you?” he asks as we take our seats again.
“Yeah, yeah,” I tell him. “You know how sensible Lauren is. It’s all been very amicable really.”
Our next course arrives. Two plates are casually banged down in front of us. The fish is grilled to a crisp brown and is glistening with olive oil and lemon juice.
“Has Lauren got a job in television, then?” asks Guy, having ordered two more beers.
“Oh, yeah. Well, funnily enough, Peter managed to sell a one off to the BBC about 2cool. The rise and fall of it. They were so keen to get an exclusive that they accepted Lauren as the presenter despite her lack of experience. She’s good, though, everyone who knows about these things says. I’ve seen her practise tapes, her show reel. She really comes across well. Peter’s producing it. Anyway, she’s going to interview me and Piers and we persuaded lots of other big name investors to take part.”
“Persuaded?” says Guy, smiling wickedly.
“Oh, some were a bit unwilling, but then we just mentioned badgers and oddly enough they became much more approachable.
“So you two are still speaking then?”
“Yeah, yeah. As long as I don’t mention Nora that is. We’ve got a lot of things to sort out and I’ll always be very fond of her. I’ve been helping on the show too, obviously. Oh, yes, while I think of it, she asked me to ask you about doing an interview for it. You could really explain the thinking behind 2cool.”
Guy smiles again and looks away.
“No, thanks. ’Fraid not.”
“Fair enough.” I take a mouthful of fish and let the flavour wash through me. Oh, God, who needs drugs? “What was the thinking behind it?” I ask. “I mean did you want to get rich or was it all just a joke—an economist’s prank? Ha, ha.”
“We economists are known for our sense of humour,” Guy informs me gravely.
“Of course. Seriously though…”
“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps I’ve also got Nora’s kind of intelligence—troublemaking—you know, the kind of intellect that needs a sheep dog to keep it on the straight and narrow. If we had made some money it would have been great, really nice—certainly that was Piers’s idea. But I think really I was just carrying out an experiment. Everyone wants to be involved in something cool, glamorous, stylish, something that everyone else is doing.” Suddenly his eyes are wide with excitement. “Have you heard of Charles Mackay? No, well he was a nineteenth century British economist who developed the theory of the ‘madness of crowds.’ Basically a person wouldn’t necessarily invest in something if they’re the only one asked to do it, but if they see others investing in something, especially if it is people that they admire or equate themselves with, they’ll put their money into it as well. Even if—small detail, this—it doesn’t actually exist.”
“And I was just a useful tool in your experiment.”
He puts down his knife and fork and raises his hands defensively.
“Mea culpa. It was just that you were used to selling something virtual, something that wasn’t real—a lifestyle, an image in a magazine—so it was perfect.”
“And what about the badgers, the blackmail thing?” He carries on eating. “That was Piers, wasn’t it?”
“Of course. I had to admire him. We were getting grief from various people about their money, about returns and the way they could see us spending it. Then he suddenly stumbled on these, erm, parties, sort of things, and realised that most of the people that were hounding us were at these little do’s and so he had something on them. He even managed to persuade a few of our more troublesome investors who hadn’t been to them to go along to one—and then, of course, they were caught.”
“How did that fit into your little experiment?”
“It didn’t, that’s one reason why I had to get out of there.”
I’m wondering how to ask how desperate this desire to get out was. Was it a breakdown? But then he asks me:
“So what are you going to do now?”
“Well, I’m going to start a model agency. Karyn, my booker at my old agency is going to be my business partner. My dad’s investing in it. Scarlett is doing some scouting for us—you know, going to clubs and bars and finding girls and boys who might have the right look—as well as managing this band of hers. Zac’s doing all the IT stuff because we’re going to be more web enabled than any other agency before—”
“And Piers is?” Guy asks, smiling enquiringly.
“And Piers is not coming within a million miles of it.”
He laughs.
“Oh, dear old Piers,” he says. “Thing is, he had the contacts, he’s got the charm, the chat.” Guy shakes his head thoughtfully, chasing some stray fish around his mouth with his tongue. “All he needs now is a jail sentence.”
“He certainly has the chat. I spoke to him briefly on the phone just before we came here.”
“How is he?” asks Guy, with what looks like genuine interest.
“Apparently he’s setting up a company to sell these talking lavatorials.”
Guy looks mystified.
“You know lavatorials? Those adverts above urinals that you end up reading for a couple of minutes? Well, he’s met some kid who invented a little electronic device that fits into the bowl and when it’s peed on, it broadcasts a message. There’s another one for the stalls so that when people sit on the
seat, the device senses the pressure and begins the spiel there too.”
Guy looks at me, still more mystified.
“Well, I’m sure there’s a demand for it,” he says.
“Piers seems to think so.”
I notice Guy looking beyond me and smiling.
“Hallo,” he says, standing up.
I turn to see Nora, carrying some bags in one hand. She and Guy double kiss. Then she gives me a peck on the lips and runs her free hand through my hair, playing with my ear gently as I look at her.
“Hi, hon.” Funny thing about me and Nora since our conversation in hospital—we have to keep touching each other, just to make sure it’s all real, it’s not just a dream.
She sits down, dumping her things on the floor. She takes a drink of my wine and picks up a piece of my bread.
“Well, have you two boys been reliving your adventures?”
“What do you think?” I ask, watching her wicked grin.
“You’ve had a lot to catch up on.”
“Certainly have,” I say, looking at Guy.
“I was just saying I’m glad Charlie got out of it all right,” he says. I think he means for me to know just how sorry he is for the whole thing so I give him a smile of acknowledgement.
“Yep,” says Nora. “I’m kinda glad too.”
“Charlie’s just been telling me about the model agency.”
“Isn’t it exciting?” says Nora, attracting the attention of the woman behind the counter and holding up my wineglass in one hand and three fingers with the other. Then she smiles at me. “I’m personally vetting all the guys.” I laugh sarcastically having heard her say this twenty times at least to various people.
“What are you going to do?” Guy asks her.
“I’m going to drink this wine, what is it? Cava? And then have another—”
“Er, darling,” I say with exaggerated condescension. “Remember?”
“Yes, of course,” she says equally sweetly. “Thanks but I think I’ve had enough.” She shouts across to the woman. “Hola, donde es el vino? That right? Oh, and I’ll have some of that por favor.” She points to the plate of tomato and pepper tortilla on the counter. The woman is taken aback for a moment but then seems to fall for Nora’s bizarre charm (is that what it is?) and brings over the three glasses of wine that she’s been pouring.
“What are you going to do, Nora?” asks Guy.
“I’m going to carry on fucking things up for Charlie,” she says innocently. Guy laughs but looks exasperated. “Oh, not really. I’ve done enough of that, haven’t I, babe? No, I’m going to write.” She seems to savour the phrase.
“Write?” asks Guy.
“Yes, I’m going to write a novel. I’m going to leave the journalism for a while and write something that won’t end up lining a bird cage the next day—I hope.”
Guy looks intrigued.
“You don’t think I’ll do it?” she tells him. He looks surprised and embarrassed by her challenge. “No? Well, I will. I’ve got one growing in my mind.” Guy looks intrigued, encouraging. “It’s about a guy and girl who have nothing in common and everyone thinks they’ll hate each other but they end up together.”
I smile. It’s the first I’ve heard of the plot.
Nora’s food arrives and we eat in silence for a moment. Then I ask Guy:
“And what are you going to do? What are you doing?”
Guy finishes his last piece of fish and then shrugs his shoulders.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“No, I don’t know. Is that a crime?”
“No, not at all, it’s just I always thought of you as being quite, you know, driven, organised.”
He looks down at his plate.
“So did I. Once. But you don’t always have to know what you want to do, where you’re going. Sometimes you can just be. I’ve got some money put aside and it doesn’t cost much to live here. I might teach English—or even economics.” He grins, almost to himself, at the thought of it.
“So you’re going to stay here, in Barcelona, then?”
“Oh, yes,” says Guy looking round him and taking a deep, contemplative breath.“I love this place. It’s just so real, isn’t it?”
Up Close and Personal
with the Author
THIS IS YOUR SECOND BOOK. WAS IT EASIER TO WRITE THAN THE FIRST?
Definitely. I learnt a lot from writing Upgrading and so I had a much better idea of what I was doing this time round. 2cool sort of wrote itself really. I had a pretty good idea of what it was going to be about but it was great when it started taking on a life of its own with the characters filling out and the plot twists developing. I just went along for the ride.
YOU DID SOME MODELLING—WAS YOUR EXPERIENCE LIKE CHARLIE’S?
Not really—I have to say I didn’t really enjoy it all. It was a good way to earn some money while I got my writing career going. I did have a few laughs, though—filming a commercial for American Express in Istanbul in the back of a clapped out taxi with an uncooperative chicken while a gang of kids looked on was quite an experience.
The other day I got a check completely unexpectedly because a commercial I did for whisky has been sold to Azerbaijan or somewhere. But, by and large, it was just very boring. I was always getting into trouble for reading books during shoots instead of paying attention. I especially hated castings and I used to get sick with nerves about them. I think Charlie is better suited to modelling than I ever was because he is so much more relaxed and easy going.
YOU’RE ALSO A JOURNALIST—IS NORA ANYTHING LIKE YOU?
Again, she’s very different. I’ve given stories about friends to newspapers occasionally and I’ve upset people sometimes with the things I’ve written—usually by accident—but I’m not a real newshound. I was interested in the idea of someone who just couldn’t help it, someone who has a very lively mind but whose intelligence is undirected and unfocussed and who just can’t help causing trouble.
I think Nora’s quite an angry person until the scene in the hospital at the end. She’s always been an outsider, an unpredictable, unknown quantity, isolated by her intelligence and her unusual view of the world. She’s someone who scares people slightly and pushes them away but now she’s finally met a guy who seems to really like her.
WHY DOES CHARLIE GO OFF WITH NORA WHEN HE HAS THE BEAUTIFUL LAUREN WAITING AT HOME?
He must be crazy, mustn’t he? But, like he says, he’s changed, he’s grown up. He’s one of those people who’s had it all given to him on a plate—even if he doesn’t realise it. Lauren is wonderful—gorgeous, sexy, so totally together—but she’s never given Charlie much room to breathe and develop.
Most of my male friends want to know where they can find a Lauren but she doesn’t appeal to many of the women I know. They think she’s too perfect, too intimidating whereas someone who has a normal female body, is clumsy and doesn’t have an impeccable dress sense is much more real, much more appealing.
They do make a funny couple I suppose—Charlie is surprised that he finds her attractive and Nora can’t quite believe that she’s fallen for a male model but then love is a funny business!
DO YOU THINK PEOPLE WOULD REALLY BE DAFT ENOUGH TO INVEST IN SOMETHING LIKE 2COOL2BTRUE.COM?
They’ve already done it—frequently! Anything that is cool, smart and has labels and celebs associated with it is bound to be attractive to lots of people even if it has a minor drawback—like it doesn’t actually exist.
In fact, looking back at it, reality or the lack of it is quite a theme of the book—2cool isn’t real in the sense that it’s virtual, it’s a website, but even more than that it’s not real in the sense that it doesn’t even exist virtually. Nora’s not real—at least initially—because she lies but then Charlie’s not real because he’s spent his whole career being someone he isn’t and selling a certain image—anyway, he’s not really even Charlie at all, he’s Keith.
WHAT ABOUT
THE REFERENCE TO BADGER MEETINGS? DO THESE THINGS REALLY HAPPEN?
If they do I’ve never been invited to one.
Good girls go to eaven…
Naughty Girls go Downtown.
Introducing the Naughty Girls of Downtown Press!
Awaken Me Darkly
Gena Showalter
There’s beauty in her strength—
and danger in her desires.
Lethal
Shari Shattuck
She has money to burn, looks to die for, and
other dangerous weapons.
The Givenchy Code
Julie Kenner
A million dollars will buy a lot of designer
couture—if she lives to wear it….
Dirty Little Secrets
Julie Leto
Love her, love her handcuffs.
Great storytelling just got a new attitude.
Visit the Naughty Girls at www.downtownpress.com.
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