Read Online Charlotte Street by Danny Wallace - Free Book Online Page A

didn’t have to people who didn’t care.
    Only the PRs really cared. And the artists, of course. They cared the most. But there were PRs between me and them, and editors between me and PRs, so I didn’t let it affect my journalistic integrity, of which, of course, it sometimes seemed I had little. Just enough to watch
Paw Prints: The Wilder Side of Art
.
    I pressed play.
    ‘How was that film?’ said Dev.
    It was the next morning and Dev had toothpaste round his mouth.
    ‘Brilliant,’ I said, leaning on the counter. ‘Did you know sea lions sometimes paint in orange when they’re having an off day?’
    ‘Serious?’ he said.
    ‘Apparently.’
    I’d watched it from start to finish, as a cat sat at an easel slapping paint about the place with its paws. Then there was an impressionist elephant, carelessly slapping blue paint across a huge canvas with his fat trunk while a woman in a hat made astonished noises.
    ‘I could do better than that,’ I’d thought, but then realised that yes, of course I could, because I am not an elephant.
    ‘What’s happening today?’ I said.
    ‘There’s a bloke bringing in a limited edition Sega soundtrack. Blue vinyl. Theme tunes from
Golden Axe, Out Run
, the classics.’
    ‘You’ve not got a record player.’
    ‘Owning it is what matters. What about you? What you up to?’
    ‘I’m going to swing by the office. See if there’s anything going.’
    ‘Why don’t you just email them?’
    He had a point. Most of our work was quite obviously done on email. But I liked the idea of the office. I liked the interplay. The tradition. It was as close to a staff room as I got these days, and it was nice to talk to my fellow journos. And also, it got me out of Power Up! and away from Caledonian Road.
    ‘What about tonight?’ said Dev, smiling. ‘Am I just going to meet you there, or are we going in together?’
    ‘To where?’ I tried.
    ‘Snappy Snaps,’ he said, wide-eyed and apparently offended. ‘Charlotte Street!’
    ‘Oh, yeah – it’s … I might have to go to this gallery thing. For the paper. It’s in Whitechapel, and I dunno if it’ll end in time, so …’
    ‘Will the beautiful Zoe be there?’
    ‘No, she won’t be there.’
    ‘How often would you say Zoe’s talked about me?’
    ‘I would say it’s in the single figures, overall.’
    ‘Ah, but you don’t know how often she
thinks
about me.’
    ‘If it’s possible, it’s probably less than she talks about you. So anyway, I’ve got that to do, and I need to sit down and come up with some feature ideas to send to another mag, and—’
    Dev just looked at me.
    ‘Mate, are you not intrigued?
I’m
intrigued, and I’ve never
seen
this girl. For all I know, she doesn’t exist and you’ve just bought a disposable. Come on!’
    ‘She exists. But I’m busy. And it feels a bit … odd. Besides, what’s the point? So we can perv over pictures of some girl?’
    ‘Yes!’ he said. ‘Yes!’
    ‘No. There’s no point. It would’ve been fine if we had developed them in an hour—’
    ‘The place was closing!’
    ‘I’m just saying, as part of a night out, we can get away with it. High spirits! Hi-jinx! But there’s surely something … borderline illegal about going back the next day?’
    ‘Bollocks!’ said Dev, and then the little bell above the door rang.
    ‘Distasteful, then!’
    ‘Pawel!’ said Dev. ‘Get in here!’
    In stumbled Pawel, taking a moment to glance behind him to see what it was that had made him stumble. It was a piece of Lego. Dunno why I told you that.
    ‘Hello, Jason. Dev, you owe me four pound for yesterday, and six pound for
Jezynowka
.’
    ‘Pawel, riddle me this. Jase here—’ he pointed at me ‘—was given some photos by a fit girl and now he doesn’t want to develop them.’
    ‘What?’ said Pawel. ‘Make them!’
    ‘They weren’t “given” to me.’
    ‘She left them in his hands.’
    ‘That’s not strictly true either.’
    ‘You stole a woman’s