When Jamie arrived at the Firkin pub he could not see Oliver straight away. The old style interior was dark and gloomy and stepping inside from the bright sunshine of the day had left Jamie struggling to adjust his vision in the shadowy interior. He moved around the pub, which was busy for two o’clock on a Friday afternoon. Jamie had received Oliver’s text an hour and a half ago, it didn’t look good news. Jamie was pretty sure that ‘Fuck, shit, bastard, suicide’ wasn’t a text trying to say ‘I clinched the deal, I’m gonna be rich!’ Jamie found Oliver slumped and swallowed up within a large leather sofa, tucked in the most private corner the pub had to offer. He was glugging a pint with his eyes firmly fixed on the contents of his glass. Three more empty glasses looked like the diary of Oliver’s last hour or so.
“Hey there pal,” said Jamie calling to Oliver, who stopped drinking and held up a weak arm to greet his friend.
Jamie eased himself in by the table and fell into the deep sofa next to Oliver, “Not good then?”
“Nope, not good, great idea, fantastic presentation, thought I had the board, did have the board, most of them, pretty sure most all of them were bought into it.”
“What happened?” Jamie looked at Oliver. It was a reasonable guess that the glasses on the table were not the only ones Oliver had drunk from, he was drunk. Jamie helped reduce his hangover of the next day by taking Oliver’s’ current pint and drinking from it.
“A ruiner of my life opened its mouth and then another breaker of dreams chipped in,” Oliver slurred.
Jamie listened to Oliver’s broken words. He spoke slowly to his friend, “Okay, so there was two, er, dream ruining peeps who spoke and what did they say?”
“Well one shit, this one here,” Oliver pointed in the direction one board member had sat from him in the presentation, “an old bastard, crusty old fucker, crusty, crusty fucker, big wrinkly nose, smelling of stale urine I suspect.”
“I can appreciate you are upset but if you don’t mind me saying you’re, um, upset, is kind of stopping you saying what they said or indeed what has gone on today,” Jamie offered to nudge Oliver into more explanation.
“Right mate, well the old guy, remember this is my baby of the year, four grand in patents, all my time and effort, one of their own recommending me, really good presentation, I know it was, well he pitches up,” Oliver adopted an old persons voice, a particularly posh and sniffy older person, “Surely young man, this ‘product’ as you call it, is nothing more than a sordid tool for the dogging community?”
Oliver looked at Jamie, “Can you believe that, all my hard work, time, money, marketing stuff, deconstructed down to a cheap porno tool, I mean I’ve thought about his point and it’s actually a possible market, instead of all that in-car light stuff they do, but heavens sake Jamie, what the fuck was he doing dragging it down like that, anyway the whole mood turned.”
“You said there were two dissenting voices?” Jamie checked for more detail.
“I did, I did, well Bluetooth Charlie piped up then, apparently he dislikes, hates Jack, my sponsor, great, so this young thin weazily looking heshe character starts waffling about how Bluetooth is the phone to phone method of the young, so I disagreed with him and tried to say, in a really nice way, how you couldn’t build my idea through that technology. Anyway by then old git man had killed the mood, others who had nodded like Churchill during the presentation went quiet. The CEO was cool I suppose, didn’t try to rescue it though, just said if I could get a more established partner, to spread some of the risk, they might have another look, like fuck they will,” Oliver sipped his pint again.
“But isn’t that quite positive?” asked Jamie.
“I don’t know, I don’t know, I’ve tried to get partners, backing, this was my only real opening in seven months of touting the fucking thing round all and sundry,” Oliver sighed and ran his hands through his hair, “I mean I still believe in it but I’m not sure I can get as big a bite ever again as I had today, I’ve not got any other leads so I don’t know. I don’t know.”
“It’s still a really good idea Ollie, chill for a week or two then have a rethink?”
“I should I know but I’m pretty sure it’s fucked, it just doesn’t feel good to me now. That old man, with his smug eyes and smug face and smug look as I walked out, he was loving it I’m sure.”
“Have you eaten?” asked Jamie deciding practical intervention was all he could offer of any use to Oliver just now.
“Nope.”
“Let’s go get you some food and sober you up a bit, otherwise you’ll have a rotten evening and an even worse day tomorrow. What do you think?”
Oliver paused in thought, rubbed his eyes and brow, “You’re probably right, I was going to get absolutely hammered, but it’s not the answer is it?”
“No mate, it isn’t, come on I’ll buy you a big bowl of pasta at Valentino’s.”
“Sounds good,” Oliver leaned over towards his mate and put his head on his shoulder, “I just want to escape humdrum medicine and brain studies Jamie, there has to be more for me out there.”
Jamie put his arm around Oliver and hugged him in to him,
“You’ll get there Ol, you’re a bright spark mate, you’re a success in life without this, you might hate medicine but if you could learn to like it even a little bit you would fly my friend.”
Oliver didn’t need his success so far right now. He had spent his life believing he could pull out an idea, make it into a shape and sell it. Oliver had a decent career, okay income with locum work as he studied for his PhD, cool apartment, female company when it felt right, but he was sure that couldn’t be it for him, that was okay for many but Oliver believed he belonged amongst a few. With drink inside him and rejection swimming around his mind Oliver thought he should go home to his flat. Once there he thought, he would open his wardrobe door, take out the paper pinned behind the door and reincarnate his first and grandest idea. Perhaps that was it, he was letting the reality of life distract him, divert his energy, confuse his brilliant mind. Perhaps the genius of his original thought needed reawakening.
5.
Tempus Genesis Page 5