Читать книгу One Thing Leads to Another - Jamie Holland - Страница 12

Despite the enormity of the events that had occurred to him since he’d last been in the office, Flin had arrived back at work to discover nothing much had changed; he felt as though he’d never been away. Thanks to Tiffany, both his e-mail and voicemail had been regularly checked and his in-tray neatly sorted. She was away his first day back, but on her return had made a beeline for his desk and flashed him one of her huge dimpled grins.

‘Hi, you’re back! How was it? I’ve been itching to know.’

‘It was terrible. Worse than terrible,’ he confessed, the humiliation returning once again.

‘No way – why?’ She was sitting on the edge of his desk, her out-sized shirtsleeves reaching her knuckles, and thick rubber-soled pumps dangling from the end of her legs.

‘I don’t know if I can tell you. I’m too embarrassed.’ He was too, but somehow couldn’t help smiling at her look of utter incredulity.

‘Oh, Flin, you have to!’

He acquiesced, giving her the Geordie Heavily Edited Version. ‘So as you can imagine, I’m almost glad to be back at work.’

‘I’m so sorry. What a bitch – honestly.’ She bit her bottom lip for a moment, then added, ‘Well, it’s nice to have you back. It’s been really boring without you.’

Her sincerity was genuine and spontaneous. Flin felt cheered – this was the nicest thing anyone had said to him in a long time. ‘Thank you – and thanks for clearing the deck.’

‘Oh, no problem,’ she said, then trotted off to her own desk.

No one else really probed him too much about his holiday. Martina had said, ‘Wow! You look really brown!’ but didn’t actually ask him whether he’d enjoyed himself or not and by lunchtime his being away was old news and quite forgotten.

He had also phoned his bank to order new cards and made an arrangement to take out thirty pounds from his nearest branch. It was a sum unlikely to last him a week, but Flin hoped it would at least encourage him to try and be a bit frugal. Noticing a day later that two-thirds had already gone, he phoned his bank again to check his balance. He wished he hadn’t – just twenty-six pounds and eleven pence left until he was up to his overdraft limit. This revelation plunged him into renewed gloom. He knew he’d spent a lot of what he’d saved while being at his sister’s on the holiday, but was sure he had at the very least in excess of a hundred pounds. How could he be so far out? It was depressing but, none the less, he was confident he could pull through until pay-day, so long as there was no extra drain on his resources.

‘I’m broke too, if it’s any consolation,’ Tiffany told him later.

‘Really?’ Flin had never really given much thought to anyone else having cash crises. Obviously Tiffany earned less than him, being only an assistant publicist, but he just assumed everyone else was better than him at looking after their money. Hearing Tiffany’s tales of financial strife rather cheered him up, he shamefully realized. A partner in debt, a fellow money-mismanager. He had always felt he was the abnormal one among his group of friends; they all seemed to live their lives with consummate ease on what they either earned or had inherited.

Geordie arrived back shortly after him that evening and quickly brought up the subject of outstanding bills.

‘We’ve got to pay the gas, electricity and phone connection fee, I’m afraid. Here,’ he said, handing Flin the letters. ‘Sorry, but it always costs a bit to get everything set up in a new house.’

‘So how much do I need to pay?’

‘Your share is forty-eight pounds, I think. We really should send it off tomorrow. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.’

Flin felt sick. ‘The problem is, old man, I don’t actually have forty-eight pounds. I’ve got thirty-six quid to last me nine days and ten of that is in cash. Can’t we wait for a final notice before paying these?’ Why did Geordie always have to be so organized about such things, and why did he always have to make him feel so bad about being poverty stricken?

Geordie gave Flin a rueful grin. ‘Look, don’t worry about it. I’ll pay your share and you can pay me back next week when you get paid. But honestly, Flin, you are hopeless. I just don’t understand how you never know the balance of your account.’

‘I thought I did, and I thought it was a lot more,’ he said feebly and added, ‘But thanks – I’ll pay you back next Wednesday.’

‘You should keep a book and note down everything you spend, then you’d always know. Just get into the habit.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I know.’ His friend was right and Flin also knew that it was decent of Geordie to bail him out, but being patronized by his housemate made Flin feel resentful. It must be so wonderful, he thought, to have money like Geordie.

‘Maybe I should change jobs altogether – perhaps that’s the way to get ahead in the competition,’ Flin told him resignedly.

‘Don’t be ridiculous – you love your job.’

‘I know I do on the whole, but I clearly don’t make enough to live on, do I? I’m sick of being perpetually broke and having to suck up to you to help me out.’

‘You’d be mad to chuck it in. Where else are you going to have the opportunity to meet all those film stars and so on? You may not get paid a fortune, but you don’t do too badly considering you’re being paid to watch films and visit sets. Can’t you just put a bit aside once a month or something?’

‘I do always do that, but then dig into it because I run out of the other. It’s all very well for you to preach at me, but you’re one of the main culprits in persuading me to do things.’

‘You can always say “no”.’

‘And watch you and Jessica go off and have fun without me? I’d like to see you try it – honestly, Geordie, you have no idea what it’s like always to be short of cash.’

‘Look, I’m sorry, but I have little sympathy. You have loads of good mates, a fantastically interesting job, you still manage to go on holidays abroad and do nearly all the things you want to do. I know this Poppy thing’s been a blow, but really, you have a pretty good life. You’re just feeling sorry for yourself, that’s all. And it’s not my fault I’m not poor like you.’

Before Flin could respond, Jessica walked in. ‘Hi, darlings, can you give me a hand? I decided to do a shop on my way back from work.’

The taxi outside was loaded with Tesco bags, a crate of beer, washing powder and an enormous bag of potatoes. Flin and Geordie dutifully obliged and took everything straight into the kitchen while Jessica paid the taxi. As they were filling up the fridge, she came in and gave them both a kiss and told them they owed her twenty-six pounds each.

‘You can add it to the tab,’ Geordie told a distraught-looking Flin.

‘Thanks,’ he mumbled quietly. Regardless of what Geordie had just said, he really hated life at the moment. How different things had been a few years before. At school and then university, no one had had a lot of money. They all seemed to be more or less in the same boat. Geordie may have had a trust fund, but they all had to do temping jobs in the holidays and during their years off; and somehow money was never much of an issue. And there were grants, parents and overdrafts to pay the bulk of life’s costs. Now, they were all totally on their own, with no help from anyone. And there was an increasingly obvious divide between those who earned a lot (i.e. all his friends), and those who did not (i.e. him). He was wallowing in self-pity again. It was unlike him to feel down for long, but he really had to try and snap out of it, and fast.