“Hi, I’ve got an appointment with Mr. Hardcock?”
“Ah, and your name.”
“Noel.”
“Surname?”
“Oh sorry. Burgess. Noel Burgess”, I say like some anxiety riddled James Bond.
“Noel Burgess. Hm… hmm. Just hang on a second Noel.”
She picks up the phone.
“A Mr. Burgess here. Yes… Yes… Okay… Not today? Ah. Yes… He says today was his appointment.” She says raising her eyes towards mine. “Oh. Yes… yes. Oh no. Oh no. Is everything alright up there? Oh. Okay I’ll let him know.”
“Everything alright?”
“Huh? Oh yes everything’s in order they’re just a little behind schedule. Would you like to take a seat over there and I’ll let you know when they’re ready for you?”
“Yes, yes over here?”
She nods.
“Okay perfect.”
“And can I get you a drink?”
“Erm sure a erm… coffee?”
“Cafe con leche?”
“Sure!”
“All right; alllllll right” she says like she’s settling my nerves for brain surgery.
She was hot stuff I’ll tell you that. How did people get into these jobs? Parents or something. Connections. Contacts. But I didn’t mind. I couldn’t give a fuck if her dad was Mr. Penguin Original himself today because today was going to be the best fucking day of my life pal and the way her little posh arse wobbled its way over to what I can only imagine to be a very plush kitchen made the day just that much better. I was siting here. I was here. This was it. I slapped my hands together without making a sound. Man I couldn’t hide the smile from my face. This is what it was all about. The meaning of my life had concluded. And I was here. Just waiting now. Waiting for the big talk with the big dicks. I’d got the train up. Bought a new outfit and all. New shirt, pair of check pants, shoes. I was that wanker I had always hated and I couldn’t give a toss!
“Here you go Mr. Burgess.” She says, handing me the steaming cup of froth. “Be careful it’s hot!” She adds cracking a red lipstick smile.
Aye and you’re fucking hot and frothy as well I bellow in the safe confines of my mind and give her one of those eye smiles. What are they called? You know what I mean. That supposedly sexy smile with the eyes that probably made me more Worzel Gummidge than Errol Flynn. I tossed her one of them. Jesus she wasn’t joking. This thing is like fucking lava. I bet they’ve the boiling water taps and all in there too. I wonder who’s up there with him now. Wonder if this is all he does all day. Maybe they’re talking about me. Probably reading the manuscript. The day was set. It was this and then out for some food and drinks with mum and dad to celebrate and then a shedful more afterwards. You’ve done it man. I keep smiling to myself like some fucking hillbilly sociopath. You’ve done it!
I’m looking down at my coffee thinking about award ceremonies and drunken speeches on morning television when this tiny hand emerges and penetrates my vision.
“Noel?” I look up. “Mr Hardcock is ready to see you. If you’d like to follow me.” I stand with shakey legs like Wilder after the third and feel a touch of stiffness approaching the old groin. Noel eh. Noel. I take another good look at her tights leading up to her most holiest of holies and think you can call me whatever you like sugar!
“Hm”, she says turning round.
“Nothing.”
Dear Christ did I just say that out loud?
“Mr Burgess!” He bellows like a pantomime fag extending a surprisingly large hand out towards me. “Oh it’s fantastic to see you, it really is. I’m glad Holly got you here without eating you alive! I’m Ian Hardcock.” he says putting an unnatural emphasis on the phallicism. “Chief commissioning editor here at, well, you know where you are boy!”
“Yes haha” I say like a primary schoolboy asked if he wants custard on his sponge.
“So here you are boy!” He exhales before inhaling and allowing his stomach to expand like a red balloon under his shirt.
He eyes me up with eyes which I can’t understand. Does this bloke want to fuck me or somet?
“So. Let’s get down to it. Your agent was a real fucking fan of your manuscript and I have to say we’re pretty fucking impressed with it ourselves Mr Burgers.”
“Ah that’s amazing news.” Hang on a minute, did he just call me Mr fucking Burgers? Mr Burgers?! Come off it. I’m not gonna let it ruin my day or anything but there’s a grandiose difference between Mr Burgess and Mr Burgers fa fucks sake.
“I mean we won’t be putting it out into print until the fall, but rest assured we will get there.”
I laugh. “Ah that’s Fucking brilliant.”
“Hm?”
“Oh er. That’s brilliant.”
“Mmhm’, he says with a frown. “Now tell me, what’s it about? In your own words I mean. I’ve read what Richard had to say about it.”
“Well I mean it’s erm it’s erm it’s a” Jesus why can’t I get the words out. “It’s a detective novel essentially”.
“Oh yes marvelous!” He laughs.
“About a down and out private dick who’s been out of work for a long time. He used to have it good but then life hit him hard so he turned to drink and drugs, you know, the usual shit. But then he gets this call in the middle of the night during one of his insomnia bouts from a total stranger who says he’s got a job for him. The stranger offers him big money on a continuous..”
“Is that a Cafe Con Leche?”
“Basis… erm. Oh. Yes it is.”
“Ooo la la! My. Favourite” He says leaving a large gap between the two words.
I laugh a nervous one.
“Mind if I take a gulp?”
And I say ‘Oh erm, sure’ but his hands already gripped right around it.
“Thanks” he says through his teeth. “Mmmhm. Holly makes them the best.”
“Oh right yeah.”
“So it’s a detective bladdy blah?”
“Well it’s about a detective who gets this call but you never really find out who the…”
“Yeah yeah yeah. And would you buy it?”
I stutter.
“Would you? Would you buy this? Ten pounds?”
“Well yes I think I.”
“Think or would? Would you walk into the shop and say I think or would you go into the shop and pick it up and walk over to the little check out and hand over your hard earned cash for this private dick story.”
“No no I would.”
He doesn’t say anything.
“Right answer boy!”
I kind of smile.
“But the bad news. I wouldn’t fucking buy this. Not unless you made a helluva lot of changes which is what you’re going to do.”
“Oh but Richard.”
“Richard? Do you see Richard in this room. No it’s just me and you and what I say goes unless you want Holly to lead you back out to fucking Margate.”
“No, but I just mean, Richard said.”
“Perhaps I didn’t make this clear. Richard can FUCK OFF!” He screams. “Richard isn’t FUCKING here. Richard means FUCK all! He’s an agent. We’ve all got one. And he’s a fucking good one. But he isn’t ME. And who am I?!”
“You’re…”
“Say it boy.”
“You’re Mr. Hardcock.”
He begins laughing out loud.
“Yes I am Mr. Hardcock. I am.” He laughs again. “And you know who you are… You’re Mr. Burgers and you’re going to make some changes to your manuscript.”
I don’t say a word.
“So it’s about God or something isn’t it. Your private detective is searching for god or reason or something at the end of the road isn’t he. But of course he can’t find him, though he keeps looking.”
“Yes that’s right.”
“And I suppose you and Richard think that’s clever or something.”
“Well I.”
“Or new? Hm. Do you? Spit it out.”
“Erm. I don’t know.”
“Oh come on you wrote the damn thing boy, don’t be afraid, just tell me, do you think it’s clever?”
“Well it’s er.”
“Ah waste of my fucking time. I tell you what. Here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna change all of that shit. That doesn’t sell. What you’re going to do is write me a simple little thing. Just take all the bollocks and instead of it being about a private dick it’s about a little girl at school who doesn’t fit in. And the title can be. Erm. I don’t know. How about Sunny Rose?”
“Sounds like a porn star.”
“Ha yes you’re right actually.”
“Ah erm sorry Ian.”
“Hardcock.”
“Hardcock. But come on. I can’t. I can’t do that. Come on.”
“Yes you can. Yes you can! You just go home and make a few changes before Autumn and send it back over and… VOILA!” He says arching his arms out like an evangelical television preacher.
“Nah I can’t.”
“You would do anything to get this published wouldn’t you?”
“Yes anything.”
“Yes I know you would. You’re committed you see. I see a lot of myself in you. Do you think I always wanted this? This editor bollocks. I wanted to be Hemingway! Out on the front line. Carving my blood and balls into the written page. But then you realise, we’re not all Hemingway’s, some of us are Hardcocks. But you’re still trying and I respect that Noel. I respect you.”
“Thanks Ian.”
“Is there anything you wouldn’t do to get this published?”
“Very little.”
“Would you burn down an orphanage in Senegal?”
“Well no, I wouldn’t do.”
“Hahah, how about… Would you impregnate a right munter and raise her putrid little fucker your entire life.”
“Ah I don’t know.”
“Alright, last one. Would you, and listen carefully to this. Would you suck my cock? To get this published, I mean. Would you suck it?”
“Er.”
“Come on. I know you would. Just say it. Say you would. Or if you wouldn’t.”
“Er. I…”
“You fucking would wouldn’t you. You’d suck my cock Burgers! You’d suck it! Ha, I had you down as stronger than that.”
“No I wouldn’t.”
“Yeah you would. You’d suck me right off.”
“I wouldn’t honestly.”
“So if I said to you I’ll hit publish right this second. Chance of the Somerset Maughan, Bookers, International Dublin Literary Award, chance of a Nobel in the future. Just to stick this in your gob for five minutes. You’re saying to me you wouldn’t do it?”
“Er.”
“I’m only fucking you Burgers. Although you know who was a cock sucker.”
“Who?”
“Selfie.”
“Huh?”
“Will Self. He’s had my cock in his mouth more times than you’ve had school dinners me boy. Good sucker too!”
“Wilf Self sucks cock?”
“We’ve all got to do it sometime or other!”
Hardcock leans into the intercom and raises his eyes to meet mine.
“Holly. Cancel the one o’clock.”
Best day of my fucking life.
