Part 38 (2/2)

'Well, you did a.s.sault our team captain.'

The didn't a.s.sault him! I hit him oncel And he provoked me, you saw that, he was lifting me up by my jacket! And anyway, I'm the one who got hurt! How can I have a.s.saulted him if I'm the one who got hurt? . . .'

'And that, m'lord, is the case for the defence,' says Rebecca.

'I know, Brian, but still, Patrick's not happy. He's got a friend, from the Economics Department, who's prepared to take your place at the last minute . . .'

'You're kidding . . .'

'You can't really blame him, Brian. You turn up stinking of booze, get a whole load of questions wrong, then try and break his nose . . .'

'But my mum's here and everything!'

'It's only a stupid quiz, Brian,' says Rebecca, still swinging her feet.

'But she's come all the way from Southend! . . .' and I can hear my voice crack slightly, which is pathetic in a man of nineteen, I know, but I wanted so much to be on the show. I have a sudden vision of me trying to explain to Mum why 347.

I'm not out there after all. It's going to feel like being sent home early from school, it's so embarra.s.sing, so shaming that I can't bear to think about it.

'What does Julian say?'

'Julian says it's up to Patrick. He's with him at the moment, talking it through . . .'

'And what do you think?'

Lucy frowns for a moment, then says, 'I think that if you both promise to play nice, and stop behaving like children, and agree to work together as a team, and go a little easy on the buzzer, then I think that, yes, you should do the show . . .'

'Well, can you say that to him for me, Lucy? Please?'

And she sighs, checks her watch, looks at the door, and says, I'll see what I can do,' then she heads out, leaving me and Rebecca in the production office, sat on the edge of opposite desks, about fifteen feet apart from each other, both swinging our legs and trying to ignore what I think is called 'an atmosphere between us'. When the silence becomes too uncomfortable, Rebecca nods towards the door.

'She's nice.'

'Who?'

'Lucy.'

'Yes. Yes, she is. Really, really nice.'

'So why don't you go out with her then?' says Rebecca. '. . . What?'

'. . . I just think she seems nice, that's all . . .'

'. . . because I don't want to! . . .'

'. . . but you just said she was nice . . .'

'. . . lots of people are nice . . .'

'. . . not beautiful enough for you, is that it? . . .'

'. . . I didn't say that, did I? . . .'

'. . . not s.e.xy enough? . . .'

'. . . Rebecc . . .'

'. . . because, let me tell you, you're no oil-painting yourself, pal . . .'

348.

'. . . no, I know . .

'. . . sat there in your blood-stained vest . . .'

'. . . all right . . .'

'. . . which is none too fresh I might add, even from here . . .'

'. . . thank you, Rebecca . . .'

'. . . so why not, then? . . .'

'. . . because she probably doesn't like me! . . .'

'. . . how d'you know? If you haven't asked? You didn't see the way she was looking at you while you were in your coma . . .'

'. . . rubbish . . .'

'. . . brus.h.i.+ng your hair out your eyes and everything, it was a very touching scene . . .'

'. . . rubbis.h.!.+ . . .'

'. . . lovingly sticking toilet-roll up your nostril, it was actually quite erotic . . .'

'. . . Rebecca! . . .'

'. . . it's true! If I hadn't been here she'd've probably had your kecks off too, and you none the wiser . . .'

'. . . rubbis.h.!.+ . . .'

'. . . so why are you blus.h.i.+ng then? . . .'

'. . . I'm not! . . .'

'. . . so why don't you ask her? . . .'

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