Model Guy by Simon Brooke Read Free Book Online Page B

us."
      "Oh, okay."
      "It's standard purchasing
procedure, Charlie."
      Nervously, I call a few
of the luxury goods suppliers on the list Pier's has given me. Amazingly they agree,
promising the goods within the next four working days or sooner. Soon clothes, more
office furniture, sophisticated computers, even a couple of watches to replace my
Swatch jobbie, are on their way over to us.
      And to think I'm getting
paid for this.

 
    At lunch time I go with Scarlett to get a sandwich.
      "I'm a vegan,"
she says heading for an organic, vegetarian cafe and takeaway called Wild World
which apparently offers "Sustenance for the body, mind and soul."
      "I'm an omnivore,"
I tell her.
      "Is that like being
Jewish? Does that mean you can't eat certain things?" she asks.
      "Er, no," I
say, feeling slightly embarrassed at toying with her obviously heartfelt views.
"You know, omnivore - like certain animals".
      "Oh, right, so you
can only, like, eat animals. Which ones, for instance?"
      "No, I mean, I'm
not an herbivore - I eat anything."
      "Oh, I see,"
she says, with a toss of her dreadlocked head. I remember at this point that I'm
supposed to be a spokesman for the company. Perhaps communication isn't my thing
after all.
      In the end we both get
sandwiches - cheese and tomato for me and humus and alfalfa sprouts for her and
she buys me a tiny shot of wheatgrass which, she explains, contains the equivalent
nutrients of six tons of green vegetables or something.
      It's the most disgusting
thing I've ever tasted.
     
    "We're still at the early stages," I tell Lauren that
evening as we sit on our white settee, sipping Frascati. I'm saying this as much
as to reassure myself as to explain it to her. I still don't know exactly what 2cool2btrue.com
actually does but Piers and Guy keep telling me that 'it will become clear very
soon' or 'all will be revealed'.
      "I think it's all
very exciting, I'm so proud of you," says Lauren. Then she adds: "Like
you say, even if it doesn't work out, you've given it your best shot and anyway,
nothing ventured, nothing gained." Did I say that?
      "So how did your
meeting with thingy go?"
      "With Peter?"
      "What's his name
again?"
      "Peter Beaumont-Crowther."
      "Bit of a mouthful".
She ignores my less than complimentary remark and carries on. I squeeze her arm
by way of apology for belittling her fledgling TV career.
      "They want me to
do some more screen tests and go on a TV presentation course."
      "Really? That's great.
They're really going to invest some money in you then."
      "Yeah, but I'm worth
it."
      "Isn't that a line
from an ad campaign?"
      "Yeah, I was in it,
remember?"

 

 
 
 
    Chapter Five

 
    "Hello? Keith?" says my Mum.
      "Hi mum", I
say, holding the receiver under my chin as I turn down the stereo which I'm playing
at full blast because Lauren is out at a meeting with Peter and the people upstairs
are on holiday and the people downstairs don't count because they have a 'Nuclear
Power? No Thanks!' poster on their living room windows and leave their rubbish lying
around the bins.
      "Keith?" says
my mum again. My mum isn't actually bonkers. I was christened Keith by my parents
but Penny changed it to Charlie because she thought it sounded smarter, classier,
and that it completed the whole package. (Lauren is actually Lorraine but she made
the decision to change her name herself as part of her 'personal marketing proposition',
as she put it at our first lunch.)
      "Hi, that's better.
How are you mum?"
      The important thing to
know about my mum is that she is one of those women who keeps a tissue up her sleeve.
      "Oh, okay, I just
thought I'd ring and check you're all right." This is mother-speak for a) it's
been three geological eras since you've rung me and b) I worry about you, you know
that don't you?
      "I'm fine. I've got
a new job," I add, triumphantly, hoping that this will lift the conversation
a bit.
      "Oh? What, a