Three Men On Tour: 6

I sat in the office and tried to concentrate on the article. Things had progressed. While we hadn’t quite managed to budge George on the idea of the Cotswolds, Harry had been adamant that we weren’t going to spend our evenings in ‘a place where the last time anyone saw any action was the Peasants’ Revolt’. As a compromise, therefore, we would be staying in Bristol and hiring a car for day trips.

I say we. I still hadn’t decided if I was going. Apart from the fact that I had yet to consult with the keeper of the diary (i.e. Alicia), there was the matter of time off work. The idea was to head down on the Friday, stay for four days, before returning late on the Monday. In order to fit around schedules, all holiday requests need to be submitted in advance of the next publishing cycle. Press day was tomorrow, which meant I had less than six hours to convince Jamie that he could spare me for a long weekend. He’d already left several pieces on my desk that he wanted me to ‘add a few touches to – help the other guys out’. I was supposed to be starting on articles for the next issue, not completing everybody else’s unfinished work. There was no way I could find time to fit in a jaunt down to the Cotswolds.

The previous night I had tried to broach the subject with Alicia.

“I got an email from Harry recently,“ I said as we carried the plates through to eat in front of the telly. “He’s talking about organising another boys’ weekend away.“

“That’s nice.“

“I don’t know if I’ll go. Jamie’s having another deadline crisis. He asked me to pitch in and pick up some of the slack.“

Alicia stopped in the hallway and turned round, her lips curled disapprovingly.

“You let that man walk all over you. Remember when you had to drive to Dunstable on Valentine’s Day because Alex wotsisname had come back with a half complete report on some trampolining competition?“

“Yes, well, when Jamie wants something he just stands there looking stern and slightly disappointed. It’s like being pelted with moist towelettes.“

Alicia sighed and tucked an errant strand of hair back behind her ear. “Don’t be such a wuss. You can cope with ending up mildly lemon scented. Next time just tell him no.“

“Yes, ma’am,“ I said as I followed her into the living room.

I smiled at the memory. When she was in full flow, Alicia could be quite articulate. Jamie himself was in his office. He caught me staring at him through the half height window that allowed him to keep track of his work force and gave me a half smile before tapping gently at his watch to indicate that the new drop dead time was only two hours away. Alicia had a few things to say about Jamie. Manipulative was one of them, although that was before the second glass of wine. After that, I can’t say I fully followed her line of argument, although I enjoyed watching her building up a head of steam.

“Treats you like a skivvy,“ she had said, waving her glass for emphasis. The red wine sloshed dangerously, but didn’t spill.

“He’s alright,“ I insisted. “It can’t be easy hitting deadlines every week. At least he thinks he can trust me.“

“Well he certainly can’t trust the other idiots in your office. I bet you end up with their rubbish sat on your desk tomorrow, with Jamie insisting you rewrite it for them.“

“Deadline was today,“ I told her. “Even Jamie wouldn’t let them get away with missing the deadline two days before press date.“

“You’re an idiot,“ she told me fondly, placing her glass unsteadily to the table. “But you’re my idiot.“

I’m not sure where the conversation went after that. I may have been a little drunk myself to be honest. I know Alicia kept asking me how long we’d been together. Then she had a moan about Phoebe from work – apparently she slept with Gary from marketing at the Christmas party but no-one’s supposed to know about that. I love it when Alicia tells me gossip about people from work who I don’t know and am never likely to meet. I’m not sure which one’s I’m supposed to feel sorry for and which one’s I’m supposed to agree are bastards. Then Alicia asked me if I thought she was pretty and at least I knew the answer to that one. After that, we didn’t do much talking.

She was right about one thing though. I needed to do something about this work situation. I decided it was time to have a talk with Jamie. I looked up at his avuncular face wrinkled in concentration as he stared at his computer screen. Maybe after I’d finished up another article. No point in annoying him while there was still work to be done.