Read Online The Only Boy For Me by Gil McNeil - Free Book Online Page B

not being in meetings, and says do we need him? The honest answer would be no, but Barney can’t resist the temptation of telling him all about his dreadful injury. Lawrence says oh he knows all about scalds, he burnt his whole hand once on a kettle and it was agony. Barney looks at him with utter contempt, and asks him where on earth did he get those trousers. Lawrence is wearing brown leather trousers today – a serious mistake not least because the sofas in the meeting room are also leather, so comic sound effects are produced every couple of minutes, much to his embarrassment and Barney’s delight.
    The accountant, Ron, turns up and he and Barney go upstairs. Barney has clearly forgotten telling Stef to bugger off, and asks her if she would make them some tea. Peace is restored, and we all get on with some work. I then have a tedious meeting with Ron trying to explain Barney’s expenses from the last couple of shoots. As Barney’s filing system consists of stuffing receipts in his pocket and occasionally chucking them all in a drawer, this takes some time. We discover receipts for all sorts of things I have no memory of, and have to be very creative. Finally Ron agrees to let me go, but says he may have to call me on a couple of things in the next day or two. Lovely.
    The list of messages on my desk makes me feel faint, so Igo out and eat cake and drink so much black coffee that I have a major caffeine rush and wonder if I’m having a heart attack. I suddenly remember sausage rolls for Charlie’s lunch tomorrow and try all the smart patisseries on Old Compton Street, but they look at me like I’m mad and can only offer spinach quiche. Finally I have to trudge to M&S in Oxford Street, and buy two packets of large sausage rolls as instructed. I do not allow myself to even consider buying anything else or I’ll be there for hours trying to visualise what’s in the fridge. The woman on the till looks at me with pity, obviously assuming I’m having some sort of food crisis and am about to eat eight jumbo sausage rolls for lunch. I get back to the office to find the list of messages has grown even longer, but I rally and manage to make a huge number of calls and confirm most of the crew before I realise it’s nearly six and I haven’t called home.
    Edna is fine, but Charlie is not. He hated the pizza Edna made for supper, and wants to know if he can stay up late to watch
Buffy the Vampire Slayer,
which will give him nightmares. Complicated negotiations follow, which eventually result in him agreeing to go to bed at the usual time if he can watch a video of
Buffy
tomorrow night with me, which means I can distract him by tickling him during especially scary moments. This annoys him intensely, but it does mean he won’t wake up screaming in the middle of the night. Edna doesn’t know how to use the video – in fact I’ve only just persuaded her that using the microwave won’t affect her perm. So I have to go through a long instruction process which I know will result in her taping the world bowls final.
    I’m meeting Leila in a trendy new club for an early supper. I arrive late, as usual, and she’s sitting by the bar looking wonderful in a new suit, which must have cost a fortune. It did, but it makes her look fabulous, so, as shequite rightly says, it’s really a bargain. The place is full of skeletally thin young women who appear to have come out in their underwear and very little else. Lots of lacy slips, very high shoes and tiny little cardigans. Floral is back in, apparently, but only in acid colours. And only if you are a size eight. Otherwise long black jackets are still popular. I feel about eighty, and don’t think my long black jacket is long enough. But will this stop me having pudding? Not a chance.
    I’m not drinking as I’ll be driving later, but Leila is making serious inroads into a bottle of champagne and is on top form. There are loads of advertising types milling about, so we do lots of