Three Way (3 page)

‘Sure,’ she says, turning back to the mirror and bearing her teeth to her reflection, ‘if I want to give up my career and change shit-filled nappies all day long.’

‘Uh, well babies don’t have to be about poo-’ I pause, spotting the Environment Secretary walking up Downing Street for the Cabinet meeting. ‘Do you think the Prime Minister should resign!?’ I shout over to him. He ignores me and goes inside. I turn back to Angelina.

‘No I know but it’s the beginning of the end, isn’t it? Look at me, I’ve got to political correspondent in less than six months, I want to be editor in two years. What happens to that plan if Glen knocks me up?’ I look over to some people who have gathered at the gate to Downing Street. It’s a protest or something because they’re shouting abuse. Can’t hear what they’re saying.

‘What about just taking the pill? Don’t tell him.’

‘A little bit underhand Oliver, even for you,’ I wince as she uses my full name. ‘Guys never get it, I don’t know why I even bother talking about it. What about you anyway?’

‘What about me?’

‘How’s that Swedish girl you were seeing?’ And there it is. The question I dread. How do I play this one?

‘We broke up. About six months ago.’

‘You’re kidding. She was lovely.’

‘I know but well, it didn’t work out.’

‘Were you a cock?’

‘No.’ I look down, my face giving me away.

‘Oh Ollie. She broke your heart.’ I look up to her, straining to stop myself heading down a path where men are simply not allowed to go.

‘Nah, you know,’ I reply, trying to shrug it off.

‘Come here,’ she says, offering me outstretched arms. We hug. Don’t cry. Don’t you fucking cry. The other cameramen and reporters look at us. I want her to stop but she seems intent on trying to make me feel better. She starts rubbing and patting my back. I wonder if she’s trying to burp me.

‘I’m fine, really,’ I say. She releases me and looks into my eyes. I glance away and smile.

‘I know it hurts now but one day it won’t. Just have to hope that day comes sooner rather than later,’ she says.

‘Yeah,’ I reply. My phone rings. ‘Hello?’

‘Ollie, it’s Paul on the desk.’

‘Hi.’

‘The Lunchtime bulletin needs a clip doing in the City, can you go?’

‘Oh, Angelina and I were just getting to the good bit in our conversation,’ I say, Angelina shoots me a sympathetic face.

‘Well maybe you can call her later,’ Paul replies, apparently not getting my sarcasm.

‘Sure, can you email me the address?’

‘Yep, cameraman will meet you there,’ he says.

‘Okay.’

When I surface at Bank tube station I check my emails. Sure enough, there’s a briefing from Sue, the business producer. I’m supposed to interview some bigwig about a possible stock market crash. It’s a clip to go into a Lunchtime News VT, so should be quite straight forward, if a little dull. I walk along Threadneedle Street, past the Bank of England and- oo look there’s the Gherkin. Cool building. Sorry, easily distracted. I don’t come to the City that often. Angelina’s words echo around my head.
‘I know it hurts now but one day it won’t.’
I don’t really want to talk about it but I genuinely thought Svetla was the girl I would marry. Intelligent, beautiful and always the epitome of calm. I know it’s been six months since we split but it still hurts. The thing is…oh, there’s the cameraman Phil, loitering outside the bank. Better say hi. I’ll tell you about Svetla properly later.

‘Hey,’ I say.

‘Hi, this it?’ Phil replies. I detect a grumble in his tone.

‘I believe so, yes. Want a hand with the gear?’

‘Great, thanks.’ I grab the tripod and we walk inside. I glance upwards as we head towards the reception desk. Behind us, above the entrance, are huge letters that read ‘United Bank.’ This place is enormous. Security guards stand in front of three large double glass doors. I quickly get my phone out, I’ve already forgotten who I’m supposed to be interviewing. The smartly dressed reception girl finishes her phone call and looks up at me.

‘Hello, how can I help you?’ I check the briefing email.

‘Uh hi, we’re from TBN, we’re here to interview uhh…’ I scroll down the email, where’s the name…‘Lauren Bates.’

‘Okay sir, if I could just get you to sign in here, I’ll call up now.’ She shows me a security I.D. form.

‘Sure.’ I grab the pen and start filling in the boxes. ‘I’ll do yours,’ I offer to Phil.

‘Thanks,’ he replies. I suddenly realise I can’t remember Phil’s second name. Shit. My pen is poised over the name. Have I ever known what it was? Doesn’t matter now, dipshit. I opt for ‘Phil – TBN cameraman.’

‘Hello it’s main reception here, I have an Ollie Hayward and Phil…the cameraman here from TBN,’ the receptionist says, reading off the I.D.’s. Now I feel like a douche. I glance at Phil who clearly isn’t impressed. I smile awkwardly. ‘Okay, thank you. Someone will be down shortly, if you’d like to take a seat.’ She indicates a seating area. We walk over and plonk ourselves down.

‘First job of the day?’ I ask Phil, a crude attempt at small talk.

‘Yeah, parking was a nightmare.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, I had to park in the NCP fucking miles away.’

‘Oh. Well I can give you a hand after we’re done here.’

‘Yeah I’ll need it, impossible to carry all this crap with no help. We used to have sound recordists but now it’s just me lugging shit around all day.’

‘Not good.’

‘No.’ We wait in silence. I elect not to ask Phil anymore questions, he’s obviously pissed off.

‘Ollie Hayward?’ I turn to see a man approaching in a very shiny navy suit. He extends his hand. I shake it.

‘Hello I’m James Kennedy, let me show you up.’

‘Great,’ I reply. I grab the tripod, Phil takes everything else. I glance at James’ suit and I swear I can see my reflection. He looks like a walking Blu Ray disc. I decide telling James my thoughts on his attire would probably not be the best way to start things off so I keep schtum. There’s a word more difficult to read than to say, eh? Anyway, the double glass doors open and we walk past the security guard into the lift.

‘Did you find the place okay?’ James asks.

‘Yeah, thanks (shiny man). Very easy.’

‘Normally Lauren’s assistant would come and show you round but she asked me so…’

‘Oh, okay.’ Who the fuck cares? I nod politely. He hits thirty-seven and the lift launches skywards. Jesus this thing moves fast, I start to feel sick.

‘So you guys got a busy day ahead?’ James asks, a smile lacking in sincerity crawling across his face.

‘Yeah,’ I say. I want to improve on my initial answer but I can’t find the words so it comes off as a bit of a ‘fuck you’ to our polished friend. The lift slows and the doors open.

‘This way,’ James says. I glance at Phil who rolls his eyes. I smile and follow our guide. We walk out onto a bustling trading floor. Computer screens and monitors are everywhere showing all the main news channels, including TBN. Seems similar to the newsroom on a busy day. We are led past the traders towards two glass offices. I glance to my right, taking in a cracking view of London and the Thames. This is the place to be. Look at that view, Jesus. My attention refocuses to the job at hand and we arrive at the smaller of the glass offices. Inside is a blonde girl on the phone, she has her back to us. James knocks. She turns around. For the tiniest of moments, everything stops. Is this who I’m here to interview? It seems Lauren Bates is a babe. Let me rephrase. Lauren Bates is a mega-babe. She wears a tight-fitting suit with a skirt just above the knee. Her outfit accentuates her perfect hour-glass figure.

‘Uh, I have to go, TBN are here…yes…is that what I told you to do? There’s your answer Eric…okay, bye.’ She hangs up, stands and walks over to us offering her hand.

‘Hello there, I’m Lauren.’

‘Mm Ollie,’ I say, ‘and Phil the cameraman.’ She shakes our hands. I glance at Phil who is thinking the same as me. This day has suddenly got a whole lot better.

‘Thanks, James,’ Lauren says. I glance at James, he’s staring at me. Suddenly it’s uncomfortable. What is with this guy? He holds my stare for a second longer than necessary then glances up to Lauren and smiles.

‘Any time hun, call me if these guys give you any trouble.’ He closes the door and walks away. Cock. Phil starts setting up the camera.

‘So do you want me here or…?’ Lauren asks. What?

‘Huh?’ I reply.

‘For the interview, do you want to do it with the trading floor in the background or…’

‘At your desk is fine, bit loud outside,’ Phil says. Then he stops. ‘Unless you’re not happy with that, Ollie?’ I shrug and smile.

‘Hey, whatever you think, man,’ I say. Man? What, are we in da hood? Fuck’s sake Ollie. ‘Nice office.’

‘Thanks,’ she replies, ‘works for me. So will you take this to Millbank or drive it back?’ I frown.

‘Oh, how do you know about Millbank?’ She smiles, my heart soars. Don’t fall in love Ollie, don’t you fucking fall in love. Millbank is where TBN’s Westminster office is.

‘It’s not a state secret, is it?’ she asks.

‘No just, not many people really know or care to be honest.’

‘I’ll tell you something though,’ she says. Oh yes, here we go. Fuck I wish Phil wasn’t here now.

‘Oh?’

‘I wanted to be a reporter before I got into trading,’ she smiles and flicks her eyebrows in a naughty way, like she just told me she enjoys dogging. For crying out loud Ollie. Sorry, sorry. Must stop thinking about sex.

‘Ah okay. Didn’t work out?’

‘Unfortunately not. No money in it.’ I nod. (She means reporting, not dogging.)

‘So true,’ I say.

‘But fun. I bet when you get a really massive story all hell breaks loose.’

‘Yeah, it gets manic. I love it though, like before I came here, I was in Downing Street. I know I should be all chilled about it but I still get a thrill walking down that road. Apart from when it’s raining, cold or I need the toilet. Also you can’t get a coffee either without going back through security, which is a real pain but apart from that...’ She nods and smiles. I don’t know why but suddenly it feels like she’s flirting. No Ollie, she isn’t. She’s being professional and you’re being a pervert. Now get your head out of your arse and conduct yourself appropriately.

‘I’ll bet. Your parents must be very proud,’ she says.

‘Well my mum is. My dad died a long time ago,’ I reply.

‘Oh. I’m sorry,’ she says. I shrug, shake my head quickly and smile. Hmm, that killed the atmosphere. Why the hell did I bring him into this? I glance at Phil who immediately goes back to adjusting the intensity of the light he was working on.

‘So, this is a pretty impressive office,’ I say, an attempt at moving things along.

‘Yeah. What’s the newsroom like, does it have nice views?’

‘The canteen on the sixth floor does, but I try not to venture up there unless I’m deliberately looking to use up my supply of Imodium.’ She chuckles and I find myself smiling back. Phil moves a chair into position in front of the camera and shifts the light a fraction to the left.

‘Right, think we’re there. If you could sit in, please,’ Phil says, indicating for Lauren to sit down.

‘Sure.’ She takes a seat as Phil looks into the viewfinder, checking the shot.

‘Okay and if you could pull up a chair Ollie and sit here,’ Phil says. I do as I’m told, sitting as close to the lens of the camera as I can. I look at Lauren who glances at me.

‘So I’m looking at you-?’ Lauren asks.

‘Yep, look at me, ignore the camera. If you get stuck or you want to do the answer again that’s fine. We’ll just go from the top, okay?’ I say.

‘Okay,’ she replies. Phil is still fiddling with the camera. Lauren is poised, awaiting the go, staring straight at me. I look back at her. My heart is suddenly thumping. Phil glances to the side of the camera and adjusts a dial. I look back to Lauren who still has her eyes fixed on me. I smile and scratch my head. She is so beautiful. Her blonde hair has a glow when the light hits it.