Yours Remotely

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 2

Weeks went by and people eventually lost interest in my TV appearance. After all my friends and family had finally seen the show and asked me what it was like to be on TV, my life returned to its normal routine. Customers no longer shrieked upon seeing me that I was the girl from TV.

One quiet Monday morning, I was standing behind the checkout reading that day’s paper. I was alone in the shop while my boss was in the office upstairs. As always, the radio was on, but suddenly, the song being played caught my attention. It was called ‘Jetlag’, and it was by The Remotes. I stopped turning the pages so that I could hear better. I wanted to turn the radio up, but it was too high above my head - out of customers’ reach.

The third time I heard it, I finally figured out what the song was about. The protagonist had travelled to New York just after having an argument with his girlfriend and was sitting at the airport waiting for his luggage. It was about anger, disappointment and longing.

“Morning, Lea.”

I looked up from the newspaper that I had been staring at and said hello to the delivery guy, who was balancing a box at the corner of the counter. When he left, I tuned into the radio again, but the song was over and the presenter was going through the miserable weather forecast instead.

* * *

A couple of weeks later, I was on my last day off before Christmas, which was still 13 days away, but working in a shop, days off are a no-go at that time. To celebrate my day off, I had stayed in bed for as long as possible but hadn’t managed longer than half-past nine. I made my way into the kitchen and prepared myself a cup of hot chocolate that I squeezed between my hands. I was wrapped up in my bathrobe and a pair of fluffy socks. The music channel on TV was on an ad break that I was following with little interest. Nothing in the world could have got me to flick over to another channel; all that was on offer was shows like Ricki Lake or Oprah Winfrey, where Americans argued in front of a live audience, or re-runs of soaps. I didn’t know which was worse.

It was cold in the flat even though it was new and well-kept. I hadn’t believed my luck when Suse had asked me to be her flatmate. We had got to know each other during our studies, and even though we hadn’t been best friends at the time, Suse had proved to be a good flatmate and friend. She spent little time at home, and when she was at home, she was very tidy. Her dad had money, and he had found the apartment for us using his connections. The place was roomy - the sitting room was bigger than most of my friends’ apartments - and it had a good-sized balcony. The view from it was not much to boast about because it gave onto another apartment block across the street, but it was a balcony, and in the summertime, it was big enough for sunbathing. In the winter, any of our guests who wanted to smoke could use it.

At the back of the sitting room was an open doorway into the small but sufficient kitchen. The landlord hadn’t even tried to cram a dining table into it but had left it in a corner of the sitting room. At the other end of the sitting room was the hall which led to Suse’s room on the left and mine on the right, a couple of steps up.

I startled back into the present moment when the TV channel’s theme tune blared out. Suse had not settled on a small TV, and its sound quality matched its size.

The show was introducing fresh music videos, and I almost choked on my hot chocolate when The Remotes appeared on the screen. I recognised the song straightaway, but it was my first time to see the video. Apart from the necessary shots of the band, the video took place in an airport. As could be expected, Gary sat on a bench, singing, and the rest of the band was nowhere to be seen. It was typical to only show the singer although I had to admit that Gary Rock All was easy on the eyes. When the video ended, I let out an excited scream when the presenter announced that the single was already out. This suited me perfectly as I was planning to go to the shopping centre in the neighbouring town and could visit its music store.

* * *

An hour later, I was in the shopping centre cafe with my older brother, Ben. He was carrying two large cappuccinos and a pile of fresh, warm croissants towards our table. I had to smile as Ben was not known for his healthy lifestyle. Despite that, he had always been tall and slim, but that ran in the family. Regardless of his strong physique, at 28, Ben had - like me - managed to stay single, much to our parents’ concern and horror.

“I must say, sis, you look really well today,” Ben said when he placed the tray on the round table.

I was glad that he noticed because, for once, I had made an effort. Christmas is supposed to be a romantic time, and I thought that the shopping centre would be full of young men. It was, but mainly with their girlfriends, and if not with them, because of them. In any case, I was dressed in a short denim skirt, thick black tights and my most comfortable flat boots. I wore a thick, black jumper to ward off a budding cold.

“Ah, these are old clothes.”

Ben raised his eyebrows but didn’t bother arguing. Modesty also ran in the family.

Over our cappuccinos and croissants, we exchanged our latest news. Ben worked as a security guard at a department store, and he always had great stories to tell. He often mentioned a female workmate called Helen, whom I had never met but assumed to be very important to Ben. I didn’t want to pry because I knew he would tell me if something was going on.

Half an hour later, we were in the first shop getting presents, and two hours after that, we were an awful lot poorer. We separated at the fountain inside the shopping centre when Ben said he was going to get his car and would pick me up at the front door. He insisted on taking all the bags and disappeared into the elevator with a total of six bags, which delighted his fellow passengers. I made my way towards the music store - I had spotted a CD earlier that I wanted to get for Ben but had not been able to pick up when he was with me.

As soon as I stepped in the door, I grabbed the CD in question and made my way to the singles shelf. I hadn’t a clue what The Remotes’ single looked like, but in the end, I found it easily. The band’s name was on the front cover in big letters. Before I spotted anything else worth buying, I hurried to join the queue. Even now, the queues were long, and this was on a weekday after the lunch hour rush. After a frustrating ten-minute wait, it was finally my turn. To my surprise, the boy behind the counter gave me a cheerful smile. I rarely had smiles to spare during the Christmas rush.

This spiky-haired 18-year-old almost screamed out loud when he saw my The Remotes single.

“I’ve just been to their gig. It was bloody fantastic!” he boasted while looking for a plastic bag under the counter.

I was so surprised that I only managed to mumble something incoherent, but he wasn’t done yet.

“They’re an amazing live band, they’re so good at what they do. They’ve a gig in Energy on New Year’s Eve, you should check ‘em out.”

I wanted to scream with excitement too.

“Thanks,” I mumbled when handing over my money. I hadn’t got any plans for New Year’s yet.

I was walking towards the automatic doors of the shopping centre and thinking that the shop boy hadn’t known I was buying the single for myself when my phone rang. I didn’t bother answering when I saw that it was Ben. He must have got tired of waiting. Patience was also not a virtue in my family.

* * *

On Boxing Day evening, as per tradition, my friend, Sofie, had invited Sinead and me to a Christmas house party. Sofie lived in a four-bedroom house with three other girls, and they had invited more people to the party than was necessary. We arrived in good time, at nine, but the house filled up fast. Luckily, the house had a big garden we could use when it got too crowded indoors.

I was shocked to find that my one-night stand from some weeks back, Paul, was also there. I didn’t know how Sofie or her flatmates knew him, and I didn’t care to guess, but it was awkward. Paul was nice and good-looking too - tall and blonde - but I wasn’t seriously interested in him. As soon as he spotted me, he had come over for a chat and flirted with me, but I was nervous around him, and not in a good way.

Later that night, I was left alone for a moment. I walked around the house looking for the loo before I found it, and then I saw a tempting display of snacks in the kitchen. Sofie was a newly qualified baker in her first permanent job. I grabbed a paper plate and piled a few snacks onto it. I started walking towards the sitting room, holding a bottle of cider between my fingers, balancing the plate on my left hand and munching on a triangular piece of puff pastry. I tasted olives, sun-dried tomatoes and goat’s cheese in the filling, and possibly some herbs. I noticed Sinead in the corner of the room talking to Sofie’s sister, Fiona. They also seemed to be chatting to a man, which in Sinead’s case was not a bit surprising.

I moved closer and almost choked on my pastry when I recognised the guy. He was Mick Morrison, who gave me a warm smile when he saw me. Sinead gave my pastry a disapproving look – it was full of fat - and then turned back towards Mick.

“Lea, you will remember Mick. I told you he was from around here.”

I swallowed my mouthful and said hello. His smile widened even further when he heard my name.

“Lea! I thought I remembered your face. From TV!”

I couldn’t help laughing. “You can’t possibly remember everyone.”

Mick laughed and leaned in closer. “Well, it was our first time on TV too, remember? You don’t forget that.”

I nodded in understanding. I couldn’t imagine ever forgetting my first, and hopefully last, appearance on TV.

I didn’t get the chance to carry on my conversation with Mick as Fiona gave me a jealous glare and swiftly changed the topic to something that she could participate in.

Sinead and I moved to the sofa. She took regular gulps of her white wine and told me off for overeating. I reminded her that overindulgence is expected at Christmas and that Sofie had worked hard for the food, but Sinead only sneered.

A few minutes later, a man sat down on the armrest beside Sinead. I quickly realised that he was only being polite by including me in the conversation. He was Spanish, and his name was Miguel. Polite or not, I didn’t like him although I soon realised that Sinead was pretty taken with him. Sinead was picky about her men and didn’t bother speaking to those she didn’t like. After a few minutes, I excused myself and walked into the kitchen with the intention of getting rid of my paper plate and getting another drink. The fridge door was open, and I heard random groaning sounds behind it. I didn’t pay much attention to them but carried on looking for a bin. With that task completed, I placed my empty cider bottle beside other empty bottles and cans by the edge of the sink. Then I heard a crash behind the fridge door.

“What are you breaking there?” I chuckled. Somebody had clearly had one too many.

“Ice,” came the good-humoured reply in a sober voice.

I was just about to say that it was a pathetic and clichéd chat-up line when the fridge door closed and the person making the noise asked, “Want some?”

I was glad I had put my bottle down because I would have dropped it otherwise. In front of me was Gary Rock All offering me a glass full of crushed ice. He looked as surprised as I thought I did.

“Hey, I know you! You were on that TV show.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Hold on. It’s-”

“Lea.” It slipped out before he could think of it.

“That’s it, Lea.” Gary looked relieved.

There was an awkward silence. Then Gary raised the glass again and asked, “So, ice. Do you want some?”

“I have nothing to drink,” I pointed out.

Gary swung around and poured half of the ice into another glass.

“That’s easily fixed,” he said and went on to pour a large quantity of vodka into both glasses. Then he grabbed a large bottle of Coke and filled the glasses up to the brim. “How about that?”

I nodded and took one of the glasses from him.

“I think you’ve done that before,” I said, nodding at our glasses.

“Well, yeah, one of the many things I’ve done.”

Another awkward silence followed while I was trying to think of something smart to say.

“I thought you wouldn’t have time for Christmas hols.”

Gary gave a displeased chuckle. “It’s no bother at this stage. ‘Jetlag’ didn’t do as well as hoped. First thing after Christmas, we’ll film our next video, and that comes out in February. If that doesn’t do well, we’ll see what happens with the album.”

I wanted to say that ‘Jetlag’ was a great song and should have sold well, but I didn’t get the chance.

“The record company has only got themselves to blame for the poor sales. They didn’t do enough.” Gary shrugged. “But what can you do. We’ll just have to try harder next time.” He took a sip. “Just as well. At least I got to spend Christmas at Mick’s. It’s not like we’ve loads of time off. We’ve got a gig on New Year’s Eve, and it’s all downhill from there.”

Somebody appeared in the doorway, and a fraction of a second later, Paul exclaimed, “Lea! I’ve looked everywhere for you.”

Before I had the chance to respond, he grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the back door. I had no time to say anything to Gary, but at the bottom of the steps near the back door, I saw Sinead chatting to some people - one of them the Spaniard. Sinead was shifting her weight from one leg to another; her shoes were hurting her feet. I tapped her arm when passing and whispered into her ear, “Gary is sexy as fuck.”

Sinead’s expression was both stunned and disapproving - stunned because she didn’t know who Gary was and disapproving because if this Gary was so sexy, then why was I running for the back door with Paul. I was wondering about that myself, but I couldn’t stop.

Paul led me all the way to the back of the garden where he stopped and pointed at the sky. Someone somewhere far away was doing fireworks.

It was cold outside, and my little dress did nothing to keep me warm. Paul stood behind me and wrapped his arms around me. I let out a deep internal sigh. Paul was so nice and clearly into me, so why couldn’t I just fancy him? He bent down to kiss my lips, and I couldn’t help responding.

We stayed like that for a while. Other people started to crowd into the garden. I spotted Sinead in the far-left corner with her Spanish fella, rubbing each foot at a time against her legs.

Paul whispered something indecent into my ear, and I responded with a giggle. Maybe my New Year’s resolution could be to try to like him. Paul took my hand and turned back towards the house with the intention of collecting our jackets and leaving.

When I passed Gary in the doorway, I felt a nasty pinch in my stomach and forced a smile at him. He smiled back but distantly.