Chapter Seventeen #2
We tried to slip into the pub as unobtrusively as possible. Maybe it was a mistake for us to come as a pair. ‘Would you remember him if you saw him?’
‘Yeah, he had, like, ginger hair and glasses . . . pretty distinctive,’ Josh said, his eyes scanning the room.
‘Bingo.’ He pointed towards a dark corner where a ginger man was sitting alone at a table, doing a very bad job of acting casual.
His leg was bouncing nervously but when he caught sight of us he straightened himself up in his seat and puffed out his chest like he was a hard man.
We sat down in front of him.
‘Hand it over,’ I said, straightaway. What was the point of me being there if not to take control of the situation? Catch him off guard?
‘You got the money?’ he asked, his eyes darting from my face to Josh’s. He seemed baffled to be faced with the two kids from Wonderwick but determined to get his payout none the less.
I held up a hand to Josh, telling him not to produce the wedge of banknotes he’d been able to, in his words, ‘cobble together’. ‘You got the script?’
‘’Course I do,’ he said, sliding something heavy and rectangular in a plastic bag across the table. I took a look inside and then showed it to Josh. It was his script, JOSH SACCO printed on every page. I could feel the relief wash over him.
‘How do I know you haven’t photocopied this?’ I asked the taxi driver.
He looked confused. ‘Well . . . I don’t know how you know. I just haven’t.’ He frowned with such intensity that it was clear the idea had never occurred to him. ‘Now, I’ve held up my end of the bargain, you hold up yours.’
‘Not exactly a bargain,’ I snapped. ‘This is called extortion.’
He snatched the bag back off the table and I knew instantly I’d overstepped. ‘If you’re not going to pay up I’m sure there are a lot of little Wonderwick nerds who will.’
‘No, please,’ Josh said, his voice trembling. ‘I’ve got the money.’ He produced the roll of banknotes.
I held out a hand to the man. ‘Hand it over.’
He could sense Josh’s desperation. Damn! Why hadn’t we discussed strategy? ‘On second thoughts . . .’ he said, leaning back in his chair and holding the plastic bag against his chest. ‘Who’s to say a grand is a fair price?’
‘You are. You asked for it. We brought it,’ I told him.
‘Maybe I didn’t realise the value of what I had,’ he said, trying to affect a pose of nonchalance, but I knew he didn’t have the nerve. His leg was nervously jiggling again.
I banged my fist down on the table, not caring if I attracted the attention of the few other customers.
‘Listen up, pipsqueak. We are very grateful that you found Josh’s script in your car and for that kindness, Josh is willing to give you a thousand pounds to say thank you for looking after it for him.
Because if you were holding it hostage in exchange for money, well, that sounds like extortion to me, and we have your phone number, your car registration number, and access to a lot of powerful lawyers.
It wouldn’t be hard to make your life very, very difficult.
’ I stared him dead in the eye before turning on my sweetest smile, the one I used at premieres.
‘But that’s not what you’re trying to do, is it? ’
He shook his head like a wet dog shaking off water. ‘No,’ he said, sliding the script back across the table. He really was just a stupid chancer. I almost felt bad for him.
‘Give our nice friend here the money, Josh.’ He did what he was told. ‘Now, everyone happy?’
‘Sure am,’ Josh said, much more calmly than I knew he felt.
‘Yes, all right,’ the man said, counting the money.
‘It’s all there,’ I said, assertively. ‘We’ll be off now. Pleasure doing business with you.’
We walked out of there as discreetly as we could manage. It wasn’t until we were back in the car that Josh let out a sigh of relief and I realised my whole body had been tense until that moment. We started laughing.
‘Success?’ Mike asked, turning over his shoulder to look at us both. But we were laughing so hard we couldn’t get a response out. Josh choked out ‘Pipsqueak!’ and that made me lose it. Eventually we calmed down and Josh held up the script victoriously.
‘I couldn’t have done it without Emily. I’d have lost my mind with stress. She just . . . took control of everything. She saved my ass.’
‘I’m glad you know that, young man,’ Mike said with a curt nod.
We arrived at Josh’s studio house, and he held up the bag. ‘Better not forget this!’
‘I don’t think Mike’s going to extort you even if you do leave it behind,’ I said, drily.
Josh got out, and leaned down to speak to me across the back seat. ‘Emily,’ he said, looking at me through the open car door, ‘you’re a real pal, you know that?’
I felt my cheeks heat up. ‘Any time.’
He looked down at his watch, a heavy silver analogue thing, definitely vintage. ‘You know, the night is still young. We could go and meet the guys in London? Might be fun? To celebrate our great success tonight. Even if we do a little pit stop to change we could still be there by midnight?’
Of course, my natural instincts were to say no, that we’d already done more than enough tonight, but deep down, I knew I wanted to.
More than I wanted my warm bed and its soft sheets and a cosy night’s sleep.
Josh and I felt like a team, which in turn felt sort of magic, and I couldn’t help but want to prolong it.
I shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Sure. Let me go home and get changed and I’ll see you there.’
A lopsided smile transformed his face. ‘For real? OK! Don’t go letting me down, though?’ He knew what I was like.
‘I won’t.’
‘Mike, you’re a prince among men, take the rest of the night off and I’ll get us a car service.’
Mike looked back at me in the mirror for my approval. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive,’ I told him.
‘I’ll pick you up in an hour?’
I nodded. ‘See you soon.’
Josh closed the car door and we drove off, back to my house in Gables Cross.
Mike and I sat quietly for a moment, letting the sound of Holst’s ‘Jupiter’ fill the car. ‘I know he’s a bit silly,’ Mike said, as if we’d just been speaking, ‘but he’s a good lad, really.’
I watched the orange glow of the street lights whiz past out of the car window. ‘I hate to admit it, but I think you might be right.’