Joe watched the other boys smirking and wanted to hit them for it. He loved Hugo so much for his innocent enthusiasm, and feared for his guileless honesty at the hands of his fellows.
‘Climb in, Big Guy,’ he said, with forced joviality, and Hugo didn’t need a second telling.
By the time Joe had crammed his son’s weekend case into the back and climbed in himself, Hugo had already studied every dial on the dashboard and found the instruction book in the glove compartment. He had a thousand questions and he wanted his father to know all the answers. Joe did his best as he reversed the car out from between two towering four-wheel-drive show jeeps. He joined the impressive queue of BMWs, Mercedes and people-movers as they snaked their way out between the shrubberies, carrying hordes of boys away for the weekend. Most of the drivers were women. He guessed all the other fathers had proper jobs which kept them at their offices on Friday afternoons.
The questions kept firing out as they drew onto the motorway and then Hugo spotted the mobile phone sticking out of his father’s pocket and a new wave of enthusiasm hit him. He lurched across, knocking Joe’s arm on the steering wheel, making the car swerve and bringing furious hooting from the next lane. He snatched the phone and returned to his seat triumphantly as Joe waved his apologies to the other drivers.
‘Never interfere with someone driving a car, Hugo,’ Joe said, as sternly as he could manage, given that his throat seemed to have closed up in terror.
‘Wow! Cool!’ Hugo started to press buttons on the phone like a touch-typist.
‘Be careful,’ Joe said, trying to keep the panic from his voice as a cacophony of different ringing tones filled the car. ‘I get a lot of work calls on that. It’s very important not to break it.’
‘I won’t break it. Just changing your ring. Can I send a message to Ben?’
‘Who’s Ben?’
‘My friend.’
‘He has a mobile?’
‘Yeah, in his father’s car.’
‘You know the number?’
‘Yeah.’ Hugo had already given up waiting for permission and was punching his message in.
‘You know your friend’s father’s mobile number?’ Joe was having trouble getting his head round such an idea. He had trouble even remembering his own.
‘Sure. He knows yours too.’
‘Oh, great. Tell him to call some time.’
‘Okay.’
‘That was a joke.’
‘Yeah? Cool.’
Joe decided that if the phone kept Hugo occupied and quiet for the rest of the drive it would be worth risking missing a few calls. He concentrated on the road ahead.
A few minutes later a high velocity electronic version of ‘Bat Out Of Hell’, trilled through the car, causing Joe’s heart to miss a beat and the car to swerve dangerously near the curb.
‘Hi,’ Hugo answered it. ‘Cool. It’s Ben,’ he told his father. ‘He says he’s on the same stretch of road.’ He went back to his friend. ‘Red Fiat Panda, really cool… I’m looking.’ He hung up and sat forward in his seat, squinting at the road all around.
‘What are you looking for?’ Joe asked.
‘Ben. Look for a silver Discovery with a personalised number plate.’
‘How do you know he’s on the road?’ Joe asked.
‘He lives in London.’
The phone exploded into song again and Hugo picked it up. ‘Hi…Hugo…who’s that?…Hi… He’s my Dad… Yes, he’s here.’ He passed the phone across.
‘Who is it?’
‘Some woman. Is she your girlfriend?’
‘Hello?’ Joe wedged the phone to his ear as he drove and Hugo went back to looking for Ben.
‘Good news about Rod Miller,’ Adele’s voice came down the airwaves. ‘I’ve had an offer from Satellite Books.’
‘How much?’
‘A hundred thousand.’
‘A hundred thousand pounds?’ Joe thought he must have heard wrong.
‘Yeah, excluding serial. They think they can get round the libel problems. I’ve talked to a couple of newspapers and I think we can get another hundred thousand from them for serialisation.’
‘Are you accepting the Satellite offer?’
‘Not yet. I’ll use it as a floor and talk to a couple more. See if I can get them bidding. Hugo sounds cute.’
‘He is.’
‘Talk to you later.’
‘Okay. Good work.’ He hung up and put the phone back in his pocket.
‘A hundred thousand pounds?’ Hugo enquired. ‘Is someone going to pay you a hundred thousand pounds?’
‘Maybe,’ Joe said. ‘But not all in one go.’
‘Wow. Cool. How much did this car cost?’
‘A lot less.’
‘Could we buy a Discovery?’
Joe laughed. ‘You are such a good man,’ he said. ‘This car is so not cool. Am I right?’
Hugo gave a rueful grin. ‘Sort of.’
‘Next time I turn up at the school,’ Joe said, ‘I’ll have something worth calling your friends over for. I promise.’
‘Cool. Can I ring Ben and tell him?’
‘No. See if you can get the radio working. I can’t.’
‘Okay.’ Hugo pulled out the book and set to work as Joe drove on and tried to digest the news from Adele.
As they came onto Vauxhall Bridge the phone went off in Joe’s pocket, making him swerve again as he fumbled to get it out.
‘A hundred and fifty but we have to give them an answer now.’ Adele said.
‘Holding back serial rights?’ Joe pulled the car over to the side and put the hazard lights on so he could concentrate.
‘Holding back serial rights.’
‘Why have you stopped?’ Hugo asked, and suddenly succeeded in getting the radio working, without realising he had it at full volume.
‘What in God’s name was that?’ Adele wanted to know.
‘That cute kid you talked to earlier,’ Joe said, switching off the radio. ‘Have you talked to Rod?’
‘No reply from his home phone. I don’t have his mobile number.’
‘I do. Give me five minutes, Adele. I’ll try to reach him and come back with an answer.’
As the traffic roared angrily past on the bridge, rocking the little car back and forth in its slipstream, he rummaged through his pocket for his diary. He found Rod’s number and dialled. Rod answered immediately. It was obvious from the background noise that he was in a pub.
‘Adele’s had an offer from a publisher of a hundred and fifty grand, not including the newspaper rights,’ he said, without bothering to introduce himself. ‘The newspaper might pay another hundred, so we would have a guaranteed quarter of a million before we got started. What do you think?’
‘What do you think? You’re the expert in these things.’
‘I think it’s a good offer. I think we should say yes.’
‘Then say yes, and we’ll have a meal to celebrate.’
‘I’ll get back to you in half an hour or so.’
‘Okay.’
He rang Adele’s number. ‘We think you should accept the offer,’ he said. ‘I’ll talk to you later, when I get home.’
‘Someone is going to pay you a hundred and fifty thousand pounds to write a book?’ Hugo asked as Joe pulled back out into the traffic.
‘I have to share it with another man, a policeman.’
‘Cool. Can I tell Ben?’
‘Not yet. It’s bad luck to tell anyone until the deal is all signed up. Things can always go wrong, and often do.’
‘Who lives in this room then?’ Hugo enquired as they walked down the corridor towards Joe’s bedroom.
‘Annie.’
‘And this one?’
‘Cordelia.’
‘Cordelia has moved in?’
‘Yes.’
‘Cool. What about this one?’
‘A guy called Gerry.’
‘Who’s he?’
‘He’s an accountant. He’s out
at work a lot.’
‘What does an accountant do?’
As Joe rummaged through his brain, trying to work out how to explain what accountants did, he opened his bedroom door and ushered Hugo in.
‘Wow! Cool!’ Hugo exclaimed as he walked in and saw the computer equipment perched precariously on its nest of tables. ‘Are you on the Internet?’
‘Not at the moment,’ Joe said, dialling Rod’s number. ‘Hi,’ he said as Hugo set about switching everything on. ‘Shall we go for a Chinese or something to celebrate?’
‘That would be great,’ Rod said.
‘Okay. I’ll organise something and call you back.’ He hung up and dialled Adele’s number as Hugo sat down in front of the screen, his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide. ‘Hi, I’m home now. Listen, I didn’t really get a chance to say well done. This is a brilliant deal.’
‘Couldn’t have done it without your brilliant synopsis,’ Adele said.
‘Is this the policeman’s story?’ Hugo asked as he brought up the synopsis on the screen. ‘Wow. Cool.’
‘Do you want to go for a celebratory Chinese with us tonight?’ Joe asked.
‘That would be great,’ Adele replied.
‘Okay. I’ll ring you later with the arrangements.’
‘Hey, Hugo,’ Cordelia said, sticking her head round the door. ‘I thought I heard your voice. How’re you doing?’
‘Okay, thanks,’ Hugo replied. ‘Dad, what’s a transsexual vice ring?’
‘Bloody hell Hugs,’ Cordelia said. ‘What you got there?’
She bent down to look over his shoulder.
‘I think you should close that down and find something else,’ Joe said.
‘Don’t be so stuffy,’ Cordelia said, reading avidly with the boy.
‘Dad’s doing a book with a policeman and the publisher is going to pay him a hundred and fifty thousand pounds,’ Hugo informed her. ‘But he has to share it with the policeman.’
‘That would be a bit handy,’ Cordelia said.
‘It’s not all signed yet,’ Joe said hurriedly. ‘Things could still go wrong.’
‘We’re going out for a Chinese meal to celebrate,’ Hugo said. ‘Can you come? Can Cordelia come, Dad?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Joe said. ‘But she might have other plans.’
‘I have,’ she said, ‘but not till later. I’d love to.’
‘Can we invite your other flatmates?’ Hugo asked.
‘Sure,’ Joe sighed. ‘Why not?’
‘Cool.’ Hugo leapt away from the screen and disappeared out the door.
‘I’d better make a booking,’ Joe muttered, rummaging through a box full of scraps of paper and business cards. He found the one he wanted, a restaurant in Gerrard Street, at the heart of London’s Chinatown. He booked a table for ten people. He could always adjust the numbers nearer the time.
‘I’ve got a car for the evening, with a driver,’ Cordelia said. ‘I could give you a lift up the West End. You’d have to find your own way back though. I have to go on out to the airport to meet a late flight.’
‘Who are you meeting?’ Joe asked, his mind only half on what she was saying as he dialled Rod’s number again.
‘Just some business contacts of Dad’s.’
‘They all want to come,’ Hugo announced, bursting back into the room just as Joe got through to Rod.
At seven o’clock everyone in the flat was milling around in the kitchen. Cordelia had told them she would give them all a lift. Joe was beginning to wonder what sort of car it was to fit six passengers and a driver. Angus had dug an evening suit out from the back of his deepest and darkest wardrobe and looked as if he might be planning to play in an orchestra. The accountant, a rather pallid young man with a bad skin condition who had only just arrived back from work to be accosted by Hugo with an invitation, was wearing his normal workday suit. He had taken his tie off to show that he was preparing to enjoy himself. The poor man did not look comfortable amongst his flatmates. Annie was wearing a dress which showed off every inch of her perfectly honed body.
Joe was trying to decide if he was being irresponsible taking Hugo out for a meal in Soho at his age. Would Fliss be able to make it sound like child abuse in a courtroom? Looking at Hugo now, the boy gave every appearance of having arrived in heaven. He had decided he wanted to wear a tie and he had made a very good effort at brushing his hair, with the help of Cordelia’s gel, but it was already beginning to rise up on different areas of his head as he bobbed about amongst the adults, grinning inanely. Joe saw Angus pat him affectionately on the head and then withdraw his hand quickly and wipe the excess gel off on his handkerchief.
‘The car’s here,’ Cordelia announced. She looked ten years older than usual. Her own hair had disappeared beneath a jet black wig which she had teased down in strands around her face, framing eyes which were made huge with dark eyeliner. Her black outfit looked brand new and expensive, as if it had come straight from one of the designer emporiums in Bond Street.
‘Wow,’ Hugo breathed to his father. ‘She is so cool.’
‘She sure is,’ Joe agreed. ‘Especially for a sixteen-year-old.’
‘She should be your girlfriend. That would make Mum so mad.’
‘I don’t think it would. After all, she has Paolo.’
‘Paolo is a greasy Dago,’ Hugo said, matter-of-factly.
‘Hugo!’ Joe was shocked and forced himself not to laugh.
‘That’s what Granddad says. He says Mum was a fool to leave you.’
‘Your grandfather doesn’t like change. When your mother first brought me home I was a “gold-digging yank”. It took me a long time to win him over.’
‘Did you find any gold?’ Hugo asked, his eyes darting from one person to the next as he talked.
‘No,’ Joe laughed. ‘Granddad thought he was the gold.’
‘Oh,’ Hugo said, deciding the subject was no longer interesting enough to pursue.
They all made their way down to the road where the car was double-parked and waiting for them. It was a gleaming black stretch limo with darkened windows and a black, uniformed chauffeur holding open the door.
‘My dear child,’ Angus said as Cordelia escorted him across the pavement. ‘All my life I’ve wanted to be swept away in one of these.’
‘Always live your fantasies when you can, mate,’ she said. ‘You might never get another chance.’
‘You are so right, my dear,’ he said. ‘I just wish this suit was a little less Oxfam and a little more Valentino.’
‘You look lovely just as you are,’ she assured him as he stepped into the thickly carpeted interior.
As the limo disgorged them at the end of Gerrard Street, Joe saw Rod’s BMW parked in the middle of the pedestrianised street, directly outside the restaurant. No one seemed to be taking any notice of it.
‘Is this like a carnival?’ Hugo wanted to know, pointing up at the oriental arches and street decorations.
‘No,’ Joe told him. ‘It’s always like this. This is Chinatown.’
‘Cool.’
Cordelia spoke briefly with the driver, who nodded, before getting back into the car and sliding it away. Adele and Rod were already inside the restaurant and the rest of the room was buzzing with customers. Most of them were Chinese, interspersed with people getting something to eat before going to a show in Shaftesbury Avenue or a movie in Leicester Square. Joe couldn’t help glancing at the Chinese women’s chests. They were all noticeably flat.
‘Jesus,’ Annie grumbled as she watched him. ‘Can you men think about anything else at all?’
Joe grinned sheepishly. ‘Shall we have some champagne?’ he suggested.
‘Absolutely,’ Annie said. ‘And then tell me everything there is to know about your gorgeous friend in the leather jacket.’
‘Rod? He’s just a policeman I’m doing a book with.’
‘Doesn’t look like just a policeman to me,’ Annie said. ‘Looks decidedly dangerous to me.’ She slid acro
ss to introduce herself to Rod.
‘Why do you have to go early?’ Hugo asked Cordelia once they were sitting down and eating.
‘I have to pick someone up from the airport.’
‘Can I come too?’ he asked, gazing up at her with adoring eyes, and dropping a well-sauced lump of duck into his lap. ‘I really like airports.’ He looked at the empty pancake in his hand with a puzzled expression before shoving it into his mouth anyway.
‘No, you can’t,’ Joe interrupted quickly, a vision of Fliss and her solicitor flickering through his mind once more.
‘Can I have more lemon chicken, then?’ He fished the duck out of his lap and pushed it into his mouth after the pancake. Some of it popped back out.
At half past ten the chauffeur arrived at the restaurant door and waited silently. Cordelia disappeared out into the night with him without saying a word to anyone. As Joe watched her go he felt a slight shiver of apprehension on her behalf pass through him. Hugo had disappeared under the table in search of lost napkins, which he was busy trying to turn into replicas of the rose shapes they had been when fresh in the place settings. Joe decided it was time to get the boy home to bed.
The following day Joe suggested to Hugo they should go to the zoo together. It sounded like the sort of thing that responsible divorced fathers did with their sons in London. He was a little disappointed by the coolness of his son’s reaction.
‘Couldn’t we go to a cybercafé and go on the Internet?’ Hugo wanted to know.
‘Maybe afterwards,’ Joe said. ‘It’s a famous zoo, really, you’ll enjoy it.’
Once they arrived at the zoo in Regent’s Park their roles reversed. Hugo immediately became desperate to see every single animal, bird and insect on display, moving from area to area at the speed of light. Joe followed behind, his spirits sinking lower and lower with each sad, imprisoned creature they stared at.
‘A friend of mine is in hospital not far from here,’ Joe said after three hours of touring cages, when they had come to rest in a café. ‘Shall we go and visit her?’
‘Is she a girlfriend?’ Hugo asked as he pushed a handful of chips into his mouth and the ketchup slid unnoticed down his chin onto the front of his fleece.
Pretty Little Packages Page 11