Page 98 of Has Anyone Seen My Sex Life?
‘They’re great. How are you?’
There is a long pause as he looks me in the eye. Why the grand gesture of cake? Why are we bothering to do niceties here?
‘Good to see you, Stu.’
‘Likewise, fella.’
Silence. I need to do this, don’t I? Deep breath. ‘So we asked you to meet us because we wanted to tell you something.’
‘I think I know.’
Stu eyeballs me.
‘So when is the big Captain Mintcake reveal?’ Tim asks.
I was wrong. This will potentially play out like a poker match. What do I know? What does he think I know? What the hell do you know? I keep quiet.
‘You’ve got the scoop, haven’t you? Have you written the article yet? Told Diana?’ he adds.
Stu looks at me. He can’t quite read Tim’s directness and tone. I’m confused too. Tim thinks I was hiding information from him for the scoop? Because I wanted the journalistic glory? I smile for a moment, hopefully in a way that doesn’t look too smug.
‘So you thought that I’d found out and lied to you because I didn’t want to share the article?’
‘Well, yeah…the way that you, Stu and Danny were trying to throw me off at the exhibition. It was kind of obvious. And yeah, kind of brutal…We’d been researching stuff together and suddenly, it felt like you didn’t want me involved. I get it. It’s the nature of our industry. It can get competitive. But I thought, I guess I thought wrongly that we were…’
‘Friends.’
We take a moment for that to sink in. We are friends. I am extremely fond of him, which is why what I am going to do next is important because I trust him and I think he’ll understand. I extract an orange folder from my handbag and lay it on the table.
‘Green tea with ginseng, big tea and a macky-arrrr-toooe. And a slab of cake. Your brekkie is on its way, poppet.’
‘Aye,’ replies Stu, winking at her and making me slightly ill. I try to convince Tim to dive into the cake but he can’t take his eyes off the folder. It’s time.
‘There is no article. The scoop is yours. Kind of…’
‘I don’t need your pity…’
‘Not that at all. He’s someone both Stu and I know and we don’t want to be attached to it.’
For all his presumption, he suddenly goes very quiet. Stu is silent but nods in agreement. ‘You knowhim?’ He creases his eyes.
‘And any journalist worth their salt will know you protect your sources and someone’s right to privacy.’
I hand him a fork.
‘Dig in. It’s caramelised hazelnut. This cake got me through my third pregnancy.’
He’s far too polite with the cake, I take a wedge with good cake/icing ratio. I push the orange folder over to him. Stu exhales loudly, though that could be wind.
‘This is an interview with Captain Mintcake. It gives you the whys and the hows and all his opinions on this circus which has erupted around him but nothing about his identity. He doesn’t want people to know.’
He stares at me for a moment then opens the folder and reads the first few lines.
‘Wait, are you selling this to me?’ he enquires.
Stu and I both laugh. ‘Hell, no. It’s yours. This has promise – it could be a big article for the Wezzie and good for you, too.’
‘Good for me?’
