Untouchable Things (11 page)

Rebecca munched at another cold piece of toast and marmite. Richard and Judy were looking in wonder at a pork chop that had been marinated in balsamic vinegar. Rebecca hadn’t eaten meat since 1987 and still she didn’t turn it off. She flicked crumbs off her dressing gown onto the floor, where they’d show up less. Her flatmate, Shazia, was due back tomorrow and even that hadn’t motivated her to clean the house. She’d have to do something today. Even Shaz had her standards.

It was always hard after a show had finished, but this was worse than usual. Her agent had gone quiet, always a bad sign. She still hadn’t managed to get a voice-over agent; a couple of radio ads a month would give her a financial cushion for times like these. Her allowance from her parents – her guilty secret that she told no one about – wouldn’t last to the end of the month. She should get off her backside and phone the temp agency. And not just for the money. Even updating the filing system of a freight company, as she’d done last time, would be more rewarding than this.

She sighed and watched Richard and Judy make their way – he bounding, she plodding – to the fashion area. Hell, she even knew it was the fashion area with the sound turned down. A model, not paid to speak, smiled and rotated like a musical box fairy, displaying a grim red PVC skirt with a black zipped jacket. Richard leaned his head to one side and talked animatedly. Judy was probably saying ‘Yes, Richard’ in that slightly schoolmarmish way.

With no warning, Rebecca hurled the remote control across the room. It didn’t seem to bother Richard and Judy but she looked down at her hand, surprised. There was nothing to feel bad about really.
Hamlet
was over but had got some great reviews; so had she. It didn’t seem to help. She and Jason had been tetchy with each other all weekend and he’d admitted he felt jealous of her new friends.

The new friends who had gone very quiet. This, she hated to admit, was the real problem. Anna had mentioned some girls’ lunch at the end of the group and said she’d get in touch. Nothing. Then there was Seth. She hadn’t expected to hear from him, at least so quickly, but she still felt his absence like a door swinging in the wind.

She stood up slowly, batting more crumbs onto the floor. And then her phone pinged into life.

* * * * *

The next morning, Shazia found Rebecca singing over a sink of washing-up.

“Bloody hell, mate. You almost look like you’re enjoying yourself. Careful now.”

Rebecca laughed. “I’m just trying to be a better flatmate. I’ve got to go out in an hour so I thought I’d surprise you.”

“You have. Where are you off?”

“A girly lunch in Covent Garden.”

“What better plan for a sunny Saturday morning, I say. I’m going back to bed.”

Rebecca grinned and moved onto the frying pan.

Two hours later she found Anna and José huddled over a bottle of wine in the corner of a busy bistro.

“Hey, is this the girly lunch table?”

“Girls and honorary girls. And dishonourable girls. All welcome here.”

God, Anna was sharp. She’d need her wits about her. “Well, I’m sure I fit one of those categories – just not sure which.”

She sat down and Anna slid a wine glass towards her. Rebecca looked round. “No Catherine?”

Anna and José raised eyebrows at each other. “The Andersen’s android is indisposed.” Said in a sort of dalek voice.

“Oh, she’s an accountant?” It fitted.

“Accountant-cum-housekeeper. She’s probably ironing Seth’s shirts as we speak.”

“Anna!” José shook a finger at her, but Rebecca laughed. She felt no particular loyalty to Catherine.

Anna poured the wine. “You think I jest?”

“You’re not serious?”

Anna nodded, smirking. “Quite the little maid. José caught her in the act, so to speak,
dashing away with the smoothing iron
.” She slurped her drink and laughed at Rebecca’s expression. “After he bought her that piano she’ll do anything for him.”

Rebecca shook her head, confused. “Sorry…?”

“Ah, there’s so much you don’t know yet.” The two of them laughed, not unkindly. Rebecca took a gulp of wine. A full-blooded Chardonnay.

“So Seth bought a piano for Catherine?”

“Not just any piano. A grand piano, which is housed at his place just to confuse matters.”

“The
Steinway
?” Rebecca puckered up her face in disbelief. “Are they… together?”

“Yes and no.” Anna laughed again. “As in, yes he bought the Steinway for her – well, pretty much, though he knew it would look good in the flat – and no, they’re not together. Much as she’d like to be.”

“I see – I think.” She looked at José, who shrugged.

“It’s true. Seth was in a piano shop one day, heard Catherine play that piano, bought it and gave her a spare set of keys. Bish bosh.”

“It’s Friday Folly folklore now.” They both smiled broadly.

“Wow, that’s so… generous.” Rebecca summoned a return smile to hide the seething in her gut.

Anna winked. “That’s our Seth. Generous to a fault with his parents’ money. And he gets nothing in return except a lifetime of devotion from the Little Maid and all his cleaning needs taken care of.”

“So he’s got rich parents?” Rebecca couldn’t help the direct question. She needed to know more, to understand.

“Had, darling. I doubt they need the money much now.”

“What, they’re dead?”

Anna nodded.

Seth, an orphan. “I had no idea.” She swallowed, realising how little she knew about him.

“Yeah, it’s not something he talks about much. Car crash, apparently. When he was eighteen.” Anna’s tone had softened as she played with a breadstick. There was a brief pause. “Anyway, enough of that. We’re here to find out all about you.” They both leaned in, theatrically.

“Well, what can I tell you?” The abrupt change of subject was disorientating. Everything was disorientating.

“Ooh, you name it, darling. We’ve got all day.”

“Anna usually starts with general questions like what knickers you wear before moving to the more personal stuff. Say, your favourite vibrator. In case she’s missed one.” Anna and José giggled.

Rebecca thought quickly. “
Knickers
? How very quaint.” A split second’s silence then guffaws from both of them. At least she’d sidestepped the vibrator question.

Anna raised her glass. “Very good. I can see we’ll have to watch you. Like Seth does.”

“Seth?” It was a reasonable attempt at nonchalance.

“Come on, don’t pretend you haven’t noticed. You’re his latest crush. He’s captivated by that translucent skin and that abundant red hair…”

“And those long, slim legs and feline eyes.
Rrrrrr
.” José imitated a cat stretching its claws.

Rebecca laughed. She was dying to know more but sensed a trap. “Well, thank you kindly, ladies, but he hasn’t bought me a piano yet.”

“Oh, you’ll probably be in line for a small theatre if you play your cards right.”

Rebecca took a slug of wine and grinned. She needed to change the subject.

“So, how did you all meet? How did the Friday Folly come to be?”

“Dreadful name,” muttered José, shaking his head. “Seth’s choice, of course.”

“Well it is his group. Seth has a recruitment programme. Meets someone, takes a shine to them, finds out they’re artistic in some way and lures them in with sweet talking and the odd gift.”

“You make him sound predatory.”

“Predatory.” Anna swilled the word round in her mouth. “That’s probably about right.”

“But that’s awful.”

“Awful? God, no. Seth’s a one-off. He makes things happen. Meet him once and you can’t stay away – you know that. And why would you want to when you have so much damn fun hanging out with him.”

“True enough,” said José, getting up. “Sorry – weak bladder.”

Rebecca turned back to Anna as José headed towards the gents. “Was that how you met him?”

Anna took another breadstick. “We should order soon. I met him through José. He and I became friends a few years ago, when he was involved with Seth. Naturally I wanted to meet this amazing person he talked about all the time.”

Rebecca jolted. Involved? “So – he and Seth…?”

Anna laughed. “Once upon a time, honey. Seth doesn’t limit himself to one particular flavour, if you see what I mean. Not that he talks about it much.”

“Right.” Rebecca’s mind was fizzing. So Seth was bisexual. It fitted somehow. Thank God she hadn’t made a fool of herself, burned her bridges with Jason. She couldn’t imagine being with a bisexual man.

Anna was looking at her with narrowed eyes. “Shocked you, hasn’t it?”

“No…”

“Come on, you’re that not good an actress. You’ll get used to it. It sort of makes him who he is. Hey, José. I was just telling Rebecca about Seth swinging both ways. She seems to like it as much as you do.”

José sat down heavily. “Can we change the subject?”

José Sanchez doesn’t like the fact that Mr Gardner is bisexual?

I suppose not. We’ve never really talked about it.

Did he seem jealous of you?

José? No, not at all. Well, not then. He’s a sweetie.

What about Anna Carmel?

That’s a tougher one. Not jealous, exactly, but wary. I think I offended her a bit.

It was well-intended. She asked her a question about Northern Ireland, referring to it as ‘home’. She knew immediately that she’d made a faux pas as she watched Anna’s face stiffen and turn away.

“It’s not my home anymore.”

There was silence, all the more awkward for it being the first one of the lunch. Rebecca flicked her hair off her face. “Sorry.”

“Take no notice of Anna, she’s just jealous because you get to dress up for a living.” Rebecca laughed, a little too eagerly, and as they discussed Anna’s dressing-up fetish, Anna reestablished eye contact and Rebecca’s breathing relaxed. Despite the awkward moment, she went home feeling she’d passed some sort of test.

Scene 15

Mr Gardner’s plan to get you off the streets and into employment – did it work?

Yes, on the whole. Certainly the first part. He spent six arduous months doing up Seth’s flat in Shepherd’s Bush, sleeping on a mattress surrounded by takeaway trays and empty beer cans. It was easy to give up the hustling but he missed his street buddies, the gossip and camaraderie. Shepherd’s Bush might have been the Australian outback for all the connection he felt to the place. But whenever his feet itched to go dancing he’d imagine bumping into old colleagues or, worse, clients. Better to be a Cinderella at the moment. Seth provided the odd Fairy Godmother visit, waving his wallet to take José out to dinner, always returning him untouched by midnight. A mixed blessing.

The final
ta-da
moment was nerve-wracking. José hid up in the newly built mezzanine during the inspection, waiting to be redeemed or cast out. Footsteps slowly approached, mounting the spiral staircase onerously.

The footsteps stopped. “José.”

He stood up. “I’m sorry, I…”

“José, look at me.” He raised his head and saw Seth’s eyes were shining. “I love it. I bloody love it.”

So you were well set on your path as an interior designer…

Not exactly.

Dinner afterwards, a trendy new place in Hammersmith, and a confession to make.

“I don’t want to be an interior designer.”

Seth’s eyes widening, José’s hands shaking to the point that he sat on them.

“It’s been an amazing experience.” José groped for the right words. “I’ve learned so much. But it’s too lonely for me. I want – I need to work with people.” A silence, broken only by Seth reaching for a cigarette. “I’ve been thinking that I could try to get into graphic design. There are loads of small companies in Soho.” Managing to meet Seth’s eye, hating how much he wanted his approval.

Seth blew smoke out of the side of his mouth and nodded. “Well, it’s all design, isn’t it? So, where do you go from here?”

A flame leaping in his belly. “Work experience, I reckon. There’s a consultancy on Frith Street I’ve got my eye on.” He used to watch them from his flat, a group of young men in black jeans leaving the office at lunch time just as he was getting up, laughing and heading to a wine bar. This was what he craved. A structure, a group of colleagues, a shared identity.

Seth nodded again. “Well, go for it then. You can carry on living in the flat while you’re doing work experience, then you’re on your own, kid.”

José’s eyes filled up as he went to give Seth a hug that was partly returned. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Seth smiled. “Well, there is something else I’d like from you.”

José reclaimed his seat, heart pumping. “What’s that?”

“I’d like you to help me redesign my own flat. Obviously I’ll get someone in to do the work but I’d like you to advise me.”

José’s smile barely faltered. “It would be a pleasure.”

And you succeeded with the work experience and getting a job?

I did.

He often gives thanks on the way into work. Lifts his face to the tickle of rain, takes a drag on the smoggy air. Looking, no doubt, like a crazy man, a nutter as they put it here. Breaking the rule of no stopping in the morning rush hour. He doesn’t mind the angry elbows barging him from both sides. He’s just happy to be here and needs to absorb it for a second. It didn’t take him long to make himself indispensable to Brand X, a team of seven men, some gay, some straight, having fun about their business in their regulation white shirt and jeans with optional jacket and man bag. They gave him a permanent contract within three months. He has Seth to thank, Seth who’s meeting him after work. A change of top, deodorant and hair gel are safely tucked away in his black leather satchel.

Before that he’s meeting Anna Carmel from Remus for lunch. Theoretically to talk shop, but really to drink and gossip. They’ve become great friends in that gay man/straight woman way. He loves her outrageousness and the fact that she doesn’t give a shit. They compare notes on sexual conquests in lurid detail. She’s never short of things to tell; privately José is amazed that there are men brave enough to go near her. Not only is she physically imposing but she has a tongue that can slice you in two. With a broad Northern Irish burr.