Charlotte was first on Juliet’s phone list that night. Back home, bruised by a half hour walk through wind and rain and missing Malcolm’s peculiar brand of enthusiasm, Juliet’s belief in the project was fading. Charlotte probably won’t be home, her new mood told her, and if she is, why would she want to subject herself to that sort of on-camera punishment?
But she dialled the number anyway, because she had said she would, and because somewhere within, a low-battery flicker of hope still shone.
‘Hi, Charlotte here,’ spoken automatically, with one eye still on the evening’s DVD, trying not to miss the sub-titles.
‘Oh, hi Charlotte. It’s Juliet.’
‘Juliet. How are you?’
‘Good. Well, you know, getting by anyway. And you?’
‘Yeah, getting by, sort of.’
Charlotte turned her attention back to the screen while she waited for the purpose of the call to reveal itself. It’s not that she and Juliet weren’t friends, good friends in some ways, but not of the regular calling-up-just-to-gossip type. There would be a reason.
‘Right. Hey, look, I’m ringing to sort of ask you a favour. Say no if you want. It’s up to you. But, well I was just wondering, well, we’re looking for some people to be in a documentary we’re making for television.’
‘What? I didn’t know you were involved in television?’
‘Well, I’m not. Not yet. But we’re going to be, that’s the thing. We’ve had this idea, and—’
‘Who’s we?’ Charlotte asked. She wasn’t a cynic by nature, but she’d met enough wannabes at local film festivals to know that half the world carried a dream of their big film or television breakthrough in their wallet; a dream that would quickly suffocate if released into the talent-deprived atmosphere of its owner’s life.
‘Yeah, it’s me and Malcolm, we’re sort of—’
‘Malcolm?’ Cynicism melted at the mention of his name. ‘Isn’t he already making a documentary for the Science Fair?’
‘Well, he was, it’s a long story, you probably don’t—’
‘I’ll do it,’ Charlotte said, knowing how the change of mood must have sounded, and not caring at all. Only fools and grown-ups pass up chances.
‘You sure? You don’t have to decide—’
‘No, definitely. I’d love to. I mean, yes please. Thanks for thinking of me. Count me in. When is it?’
‘Bri speaking.’
‘Hello. My name’s Juliet. You probably don’t know who I am but—’
‘Jesus.’ Recognition of voice and name arrived simultaneously and exploded the lock that had held Brian’s panic secure. It helped not at all that he was currently sitting on his bed, just as he had for that other fateful occasion. Then came a long, empty pause.
‘Are you still there?’ The same voice, but different too. Impress her, Brian demanded of himself. For God’s sake, impress her.
‘Yeah, sorry, I was just…’ Then it hit him. Why was she calling? And how did she know who he was?
‘Um, how did you get my number? Oh shit, you have caller ID don’t you?’
‘What? No, I just looked it up in the book.’
‘Yeah, but how do you know my name’s Brian—’ And just in time Brian stopped himself. ‘Oh, wait a minute, why are you ringing again?’
‘Right, well I was going to ask you if you’d mind being in a documentary I’m making.’
‘Why me?’
‘Well, I’m working with Malcolm, and you’ve already spoken on camera for a part of it.’
Malcolm again. Brian had disliked him the first time they’d met, and with every twist of fate’s knife he disliked him all the more. On the bright side though, it made it possible that this call was just coincidence, and she had no idea he was Kieren. And coincidences meant opportunities, and opportunities were made to be exploited.
‘Right. Well look, I’ll do it on one condition.’
‘What’s that?’
‘You go out to dinner with me.’
‘Well, funny you should say that,’ came the reply. ‘See, we could actually do both at the same time.’
‘Hi, Kevin here.’
‘Hi Kevin. Look, you don’t know me but I’m Juliet, a friend of Malcolm’s, who was making that video, at the party where you—’
‘Oh no, not this again.’ Kevin had had more than one or two comments since the statue thing. ‘You’re not from a newspaper are you?’
‘No, like I said, I’m helping Malcolm. The thing is, we were hoping to do a follow-up scene, at a restaurant. It’s a documentary.’
‘I’m not taking my clothes off again,’ Kevin told her. People had asked. One had even offered money, if he would attend her party and repeat the trick, but Kevin was very particular about the things he would and wouldn’t do. ‘I don’t want to become typecast.’
‘Fully clothed. Promise.’
‘No, I still don’t think so. It isn’t really my sort of thing you see. That was very much a one-off performance.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ Juliet told him. ‘We’ve got some pretty interesting people on board already you know.’
‘Like who?’
‘Well, remember the girl who held the party?’
‘Charlotte?’ The one Brian had been so keen on, as he remembered. Kevin found it hard to like girls like her.
‘Yeah, she’ll be there.’
‘Who else?’
‘Oh, well me of course, and Malcolm, and I’m not sure if you know Brian, he’s your year maybe and—’
‘Brian?’ Why hadn’t she said so earlier? ‘Yeah I know Brian. Brian’s my best mate. Is Brian doing it?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You sure?’
‘I was just speaking to him.’
‘Right, well count me in then. Definitely.’
And so there were three. Juliet put down the receiver and wondered how it could possibly have been that easy. Somewhere, in the background, the sound of fate’s tapdancing feet could be heard, but Juliet chose to ignore it. No, she was beginning to feel quite optimistic again.