Three Way - Chapter Three

            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.

            ‘Sorry, just need to get another battery,’ Phil says. I breathe out. I glance at her, she smiles, my heart thumps faster. Man, I’m never normally like this. My back feels clammy, I shift on my seat.

            ‘I like your shirt,’ Lauren says. I glance down at my somewhat creased affair. I should have ironed it. I hate ironing. Maybe she’s being i-ronical? Get it? Alright well fuck you, just trying to relieve the tension here.

            ‘Thank you, it’s M&S.’ Oh for Christ’s sake.

            ‘Sexy,’ she says. I look up from the shirt, surprised at her compliment. Phil looks up from...battery locating. ‘I mean, I was looking for a birthday present for a friend and I think he’d like that.’

            ‘Oh yeah? Well they’re pretty reasonably priced,’ I reply, glancing at Phil. Hurry up Phil. Hurry up Phil. Phil…hurry up. My eyes connect with Lauren’s again and I look down to her tits. Shit, not there…umm, up to the ceiling. No, now I’m overcompensating…uh, the window. Better. Fuck Phil, please…

            ‘Okay, ready,’ Phil says. I breathe out again too fast, look back at her and smile.

            ‘Okay. If you could just give me your name and your title for the tape,’ I say.

            ‘Lauren Bates, Head of Corporate Finance for United Bank.’

            ‘Thanks,’ I say. She swallows, maybe she thinks I’m going to ‘Paxman’ her. Which, I’m not by the way.

            ‘So what’s happening in the Eurozone at the moment and how does it affect Britain?’

            She starts giving me her answer and I want to tell you what she said but I’m one hundred percent not listening. Instead I’m watching her mouth move and listening to the intensity and conviction of her voice. She finishes her answer in what I estimate to be around twenty seconds, which is perfect. I need to remember my next question though.

            ‘Uh, if this were to spread further here, could it affect jobs here and if so which industries would most likely be hit?’

            Again she rattles off what I’m sure will be the perfect answer for the VT but I pay no more attention to this answer than the previous one. I wonder what it would be like to kiss those lips. That rush of excitement tearing through me. I wonder what the touch of her suit would feel like under my fingers. How would it feel to put my hands under that blouse? My heart thumps as though I’ve just broken the one hundred metres world record…or had a heart attack. She finishes her answer. I consider what it might be like to be her husband. Like, how that would actually work? We’d have to live out in the suburbs. We’d commute in together, maybe I’d even make her a packed lunch to take in with her. In the evenings we might sit in our garden sipping wine under a fading sun. Then our children might come running out. Horatio and Matilda. Horatio? Fuck, where did that come from?

            ‘Ollie? Is that it?’ she asks. I snap out of my daydream.

            ‘Sorry?’ I reply, glancing at Phil who’s staring at me with a frown and a what-the-fuck-are-you-doing look. ‘Sorry. I…well, uh. I glance down at my iPhone for the next question. ‘Uh…’ Shit, it’s gone back to sleep and I can’t find the email. She gave a couple of good answers, that’ll be okay, won’t it? ‘That’s it.’

            ‘Really?’ she asks.

            ‘What?’ Phil says, almost straight away.

            ‘Uh, yeah. No, that was great. Really good.’

            ‘That was quickest interview I’ve ever done,’ Lauren says.

            ‘Me too,’ says Phil, staring at me with a searching look.

            ‘Well, I’ve got what I need, so what’s the point in wasting your time trying to get you to say the same thing ten different ways.’ Lauren shrugs.

            ‘Okay, well if you’re sure?’

            ‘Yep, definitely,’ I say. Phil starts to pack up the lights. She stands up from the chair.

            ‘So, have you got many interviews to do?’ Lauren asks.

            ‘Not at the mo, but who knows what the newsdesk has planned for me. I’ll take this to Millbank, feed it and await my fate,’ I reply. She nods.

            ‘Well, I hope it works for you. So, do you have a card or…?’ Oh my God, she wants my digits. She wants to ask me out. We really are going to spend the rest of our happy lives together. Jesus Ollie, give her the bloody card. Hang on, I don’t have business cards. Shit.

            ‘Uh…I don’t have business cards,’ I repeat my thought verbatim.

            ‘Oh. Well, never mind.’

            ‘I can give you my phone number if you like.’

            ‘Oh,’ she replies. Phil glances up from ejecting the SD card from the camera.

            ‘And email and everything else you get on a business card,’ I say. You are pathetic, look at this performance.

            ‘Sure, let me get a piece of paper.’ She pulls out a Post-It notepad and hands it to me with a pen.

            ‘Ta,’ I say. I write my name, mobile number and email address down. I resist the urge to also include my place of birth, bank account number and Gmail password. ‘There you go.’ I hand her back the pad.

            ‘Thanks,’ she says, looking at it then up to me. ‘Well, it was really nice to meet you, Ollie.’

            ‘You too,’ I say offering her my hand. She shakes it and smiles. I smile back, trying to imprint this meeting in my memory.

            ‘Ready when you are champ,’ says Phil. I glance his way and nod.

            ‘Nice to meet you too, Phil,’ says Lauren.

            ‘Uh…yeah, likewise,’ says Phil, shaking her hand.

            ‘Well, see you soon,’ I say. She frowns slightly. ‘I mean, not soon. Just…anyway.’ I grab the tripod.

            ‘Do you need someone to show you out?’ Lauren asks. I frown because I hear the word ‘throw’ when she says ‘show.’ Stupid, I know.

                ‘We’ll be fine thanks,’ Phil says. We walk out of the office, I glance back to her. She’s staring after us with a look which I interpret as utter confusion on her face. Man…that really was the worst interview I’ve ever done.

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