Page 103 of Don't You Forget About Me

‘Oh … yes …? Hah. I was quite tanked that night, I forget how strong that craft beer is!’

‘Right. I’ve split up with Robin as I found him having sex with Lou, as you know. When you came to where I work, I thought it was a coincidence. I’ve since found out he’s talked to my parents behind my back, told them a pack of lies and extracted that information. Then used it, as you saw.’

‘OK …’ Al says, guardedly, realising he’s been tricked. ‘I didn’t know that.’

‘Sure, I’m not suggesting you did. Then yesterday, he did the same thing again. Got into where I worked, made a speech about me to a busy room.’

‘Eeesh.’

‘The thing is, Al, I have a problem and I want your advice. Since we finished, Robin’s come to my house at night, thrown stones at the window and scared my housemate. He’s turned up at my workplace and caused a scene, twice. After which, I only kept my job by the skin of my teeth …’ – might as well make this a three-egg cake – ‘I made it abundantly clear, when I caught Robin red-handed, having sex with another woman, that we were over. He hasn’t been given the slightest signal that there’s any hope I’ll take him back and I don’t answer his messages. This is a one-sided game. This is what we call harassment.’

I draw breath into silence, hoping Al’s still on the line.

‘It’s starting to worry me, to be honest. If he doesn’t back off soon, I’m going to have to explore my options.’

‘I hear you, but what do you want me to do? I’m his agent, not his minder. I’m 200 miles away again.’

‘Sure. But you’ve been there merrily filming Robin, cheering him on. I thought we could put our heads together.’

‘I didn’t know this background – yes, sorry, leave it there, Charlie – or I wouldn’t have. The clip got deleted.’

He’s speaking from his office and going to pull a Sorry Must Dash any second, I have to make my point quickly.

‘Yes. But here’s my problem, Al, your client is hounding me and if I can’t find anyone to call him off, informally, then I’m going to have to go to the police and get a restraining order. How’s that’s going to look, if the local paper turn up at the magistrates court?’

I have absolutely no idea how restraining orders, magistrates, or local press coverage on such matters work, but then Al didn’t know how filming on private property worked, either.Just sound certain.

‘Wow! I had no idea things were bad enough to go the police! Don’t you think that’s a sledgehammer with a nut?’

He’s finally snapped to attention, sensed danger. I have him.

‘“Nut” being the operative word here, Al. You tell me what I should do. I don’t want to. But when “please leave me and mine alone” hasn’t worked, many times over, what else do I do?’

‘Oh, this is … let me shut the door …’ I hear shuffling and slamming noises. ‘Look, this is getting out of hand. I’ll speak to Robin and make it clear you’re upset and he needs to calm down. I’m speaking in strictest, strictest confidence here you understand, but have you ever thought Robin might be a little … bipolar?’

‘Er … no …?’

‘His mood swings are all over the shop. He goes from periods of sitting indoors getting fried to being incredibly hyperactive. It could be flights of the artist’s fancy but I do wonder if there’s something diagnosable there. I don’t know if the whole overdoing it, love bombing you, comes from that.’

‘Ah. I don’t know either.’

I consider: I could take the high road or the low road here. But I want a fast, no fuss result. Low road it is.

‘Would he plead mental instability in court?’ I say, sweetly.

‘I’ll speak to him,’ Al says, swiftly. ‘He won’t turn up at your pub again.’

‘Thank you very much, I appreciate your help.’

Hah.Your move, Robin McNee. Well, don’t make one please, but in rhetorical terms. Your move.

Al clearly was spooked, as fifteen minutes later I get a text from Robin.

Hi! OK you win. Message received. Can I speak to you about something else? Important. No requests for drinks, promise. About work. Rx

Nope, not biting.

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