Bridge of Doom (15 page)

Jack looked up from checking through their office email inbox and announced, 'okay Annie, here we go.' 

'What is it?' 

'It's the email I've been expecting from Henry and there's a file attachment, containing some more details on this Edinburgh job.' 

After a few minutes perusing the content of the email, Jack said, 'as far as I can see he's not disclosing the identity of the client, until we finally commit to the job, but it looks like pretty much everything else is here. I'll skim through it and then let you have a look.'
 

'Are there any more of his rotten jokes?' 

'I'm afraid so, right at the end. But just the one this time, thankfully.' 

'Okay then, let's get that bit it over with so I can concentrate on the rest,' sighed Annie. 

'Two young guys from Edinburgh are chatting in the pub and one says confidentially, 'Look, don't tell anyone, but I'm starting to think that my new girlfriend from Glasgow is a bit of a slut.' 

'Really … why's that?' asks his pal. 

'Well, the first time we had sex I asked her if she preferred being on top or on the bottom, and she said, 'in the middle.'

Annie shook her head slowly and grimaced before asking, 'what is Henry's
problem
anyway? All this constant sniping about Glasgow? It's pretty pathetic really, coming from a grown man.'
 

'I honestly don't know Henry all that well, but I think he used to be married to a girl who came from Glasgow. After the last job I did for him, he seemed a bit down for some reason, so we went out for a couple of drinks and he started to open up a bit about his past. It turned out that it was his wedding anniversary, so naturally I asked why he wasn't spending the evening with his wife.’  

‘He explained that because he'd been caught messing around on several occasions, there had been a period when things weren't so good between them. But they'd talked it through like mature adults and he'd come to a new understanding with his wife about, you know, seeing other people. So, being nosey, I naturally asked him, how does that work? He smiled and said that he was now free to sleep with any female he wanted, any time he wanted and he could even bring them back to the house and use the marital bed. I remember I was quite shocked by that and I said, 'that's incredible, Henry, and your wife's totally cool with that?'
 

‘And that's when he said to me, 'I don't know, Jack. She doesn't speak to me, or live with me anymore.' So that's typical of Henry, he even made a joke about splitting up with his wife. Quite a good one, actually.' 

'Yeah, but I don't think that was a joke, boss. Sounds to me more like a cry for help,' said Annie.
 

'Oh, I see what you mean … yeah, maybe you're right. Anyway it turned out the divorce had actually been finalised a month before and he didn't look to me like a man who was dealing with it very well. I tried to cheer him up a bit by sharing some war stories about my own rocky path through the divorce courts, but he wasn't in the mood. Believe it or not, we only had a couple of pints that night and then he said was going to put a bet on and head off home for an early night.'

'So do you think that's where all the bitterness and rubbish jokes about people from Glasgow comes from?'
 

'I think so, Annie. He's probably lonely, that's my guess, and the constant forced hilarity and flirting is all just a front. Some men seem to get stuck in the past and just can't move on. Like the old country song says,
"In My Dreams You Still Belong to Me."
 

'Oh God, let me take a wild guess. Is that Hank bloody Williams again?' said Annie, rolling her eyes in horror. 

'That was very good, Annie. See … you're learning.' 

'Just promise me you won't start singing it, okay?'
 

'Actually, I think behind the brash Hooray Henry act, there's maybe a half-decent bloke hiding in there somewhere.'  

'He keeps it well hidden, that’s all I’m saying. But I'll take your word for it,' said Annie. 

‘Anyway the bottom line is that, if we take the job, there's a payment of five grand upfront as a retainer.
And
we've been invited to a party at the client's house in the New Town, on Saturday night. Although it doesn't sound like it'll be much fun because it's formal evening dress, apparently. Henry says here that, if Annie only has her old jeans and Doc Martens boots to wear, I've got to buy you something a bit more glamorous and feminine.' 

'He's a cheeky sod, I can get dressed up if I want to.'
 

'It's just that usually you don't want to.' 

'Exactly. I've never felt very girly, ever. But I suppose I could wear the outfit I had on at my granddad's funeral last year. A classic little black dress never goes wrong, does it? Especially when it only cost fifteen pounds from a charity shop. So, if we're going, that's me sorted. How about you? Have you got something suitable to wear?'

'I've got an old dinner suit I bought twenty-odd years ago, that still fits me. Just. I should be okay, as long as I remember not to sit down, or bend over too quickly. Or eat anything.'

‘What’s the occasion?’

‘It's a house-warming party, apparently, because the mysterious client only moved in last month after extensive renovations were carried out. Henry's attached several pictures of the property, so we can get our bearings. It's quite a pad … come and see.'
 

Annie went around the desks to look over Jack’s shoulder at the iPad screen, as he continued, 'the unnamed client is a wealthy property developer who lives in some style in the New Town. He owns this complete A-listed, five-storey Georgian town house, in Moray Place, which has six bedrooms, four bathrooms and a gym, with sauna and plunge pool, down in the basement. The property overlooks private gardens which are strictly for residents use only. Probably worth around a million and a half to two million pounds, at a conservative estimate. That’s for the house, by the way, not the gardens.’ 

'So how come Henry knows this guy?'
 

'They go right back to school days, apparently. They both went to Edinburgh Academy back in the Eighties and he seems to have done quite a lot of work for the guy in recent years, on various big deals where a bit of nifty footwork was needed. But the story is that for this particular job, they need people who aren't well known within polite company in the New Town, or the Edinburgh property scene.' 

'So, I take it that's where we come in. The unknown scruff from Glasgow.'
 

'Maybe so, Annie, but remember, if we take the job, there’s five grand up front and a grand and a half a day after that. Honestly, they can insult me as much as they want for that kind of money. I don't give a shit. So are we going to go ahead and do this? What do you think?' 

'I still have reservations, but I think that's mainly because I can't stand Henry. You know him a lot better than me and, if you really think that it's all okay, tell him we'll take the case. But let's wait until we have the five grand retainer before we do anything.' 

'Fair enough, Annie. I'll confirm by email and he can make a BACS payment straight into our business account.'
 

Jack passed his iPad across to Annie, so she could take another look at the pictures of the sumptuous New Town pad. She finished scrolling through the glossy pictures then sat back, whistled and said, 'this is
very
impressive, boss. I've heard of the New Town, obviously, and seen pictures of some of the streets, but I've never actually been there myself for a proper look around. Most of the time when I go through to Edinburgh, it's usually at night to go to a gig, or occasionally for a party. But it’s never been anywhere near the New Town.' 

‘It's very swish as you see, Annie, but also very expensive. The people who live there are a mixture of toffs with old money, and successful professional types. You know, well-known lawyers, bankers and drug dealers, that kind of thing. I read somewhere that there’s also lots of foreign money going into good quality Edinburgh houses. As they say in the property pages, if you’re looking for classy and understated ambience, look no further.’

‘You’re starting to sound a bit like an estate agent yourself.’

‘No, it’s just that I really like this part of Edinburgh. Although, admittedly, all the streets in the New Town aren’t quite as nice as Moray Place. But almost all the townhouses and tenement flats in the area do have huge rooms, with high ceilings and ornate plaster cornices. That’s what really catches the eye, when you’re wandering around nosing in the windows. I once spent a couple of weeks working on a job in the area and, when there was nothing much happening, I used to love walking around and just staring at all of the beautiful houses I could never afford. So I actually got to know bits of the New Town quite well and, if we get the chance, I'll give you the guided tour. Don’t get me wrong, Glasgow has some beautiful buildings and streets as well, Annie, but truthfully we've got nothing like Edinburgh’s New Town. Although, to be fair, nobody else has either. It's quite unique and special but please, whatever you do, don't tell Henry I said that.'

The partners had arranged to meet up just before eight o'clock, at Queen Street station. When he arrived ten minutes before the Edinburgh train was due to leave, Jack initially scanned the crowded concourse in vain looking for his young sidekick. Then her distinctive cropped blond hair caught his eye and he hurried across to where she was standing, staring up at the departures board. 

'Christ, it is you, Annie. I nearly didn't recognise you there, because of the make-up, dangly earrings and killer heels. Taking a step back, he looked her up and down before spluttering, 'and legs … you've got legs, a matching pair. I've never seem them before, with you always wearing jeans and the Doc Martens.’
 

Having had serious last minute doubts as to whether her simple charity shop dress was suitable for a swanky do in the heart of Edinburgh's New Town, Annie opened her duffle coat and asked uncertainly, 'well, what do you think … how do I look? Say something, for God’s sake.' 

Jack's jaw dropped and he said, 'you look …'

'What? Tell me … the tension's unbearable.' 

'Sensational, Annie. You look bloody sensational. Honestly.’
 

Smiling, she said, 'that's the correct answer, boss. I'll let you buy the train tickets as a reward. Oh, and while you’re doing that, I’ll grab a couple of takeaway coffees from Costa for the journey.’

As they settled into their seats on the train, for the fifty-minute journey to the capital, Annie enquired, ‘why on earth have you got that old rucksack with you, when we’re going to a swanky party?’

‘I brought my iPad along with me. There’s something I want to ask your advice about, so I thought this would be a perfect opportunity, while we’re stuck on the train.’

‘Okay then, shoot. What is it?’

Jack took a deep breath and said, ‘it’s about this online dating malarkey you and your aunt Peg have got me involved in. I need help. I think I maybe need a complete makeover.’

‘I’m not an expert on online dating, but I’ll certainly try.’

‘I don’t need an expert, Annie. What I need is a woman I can trust, who will tell me the truth about certain … you know,
personal
stuff.’

‘I take it from what you’re saying, that things are not going wonderfully well on the internet dating front.’

‘You could say that.’

‘Look, this is a whole new thing for you, boss and you’ve only been out with two women so far. Remember what I said right at the beginning, about not having unrealistic expectations? Don’t take knock backs or rejection so personally, it’s all just part of the game.’

'Yes, I worked that bit out all by myself, Annie. But look at
this
,’ said Jack, opening up the iPad at his profile page on the
Clyde Cougars
internet dating website. 

'So what am I looking at here?' 

'Just scroll down the page and read through some of the comments that these women have posted.'  

'What about?'
 

'What do you think? About
me
. I've only been out with two of them, but already all the rest seem to be ganging up on me, based on my picture and profile.'

'Oh, all
that
stuff. You mustn't take these kind of comments too personally, boss. You've been rated and slated, but it's all just part of the game. It's like when people post product reviews on Amazon. It's only one person's opinion and a lot of them are complete idiots. I mean how many times do you read a four or five-star review about a product, only to find out that the person hasn't even used the thing they're writing about. They've maybe received it, or bought it for somebody else, but that's all. How dumb is that?'
 

'That's easy for you to say. But it's not
you
they're all making comments about. I'm a person, not a sexual object.' 

'That's true enough,' said Annie, agreeing far too quickly for Jack’s liking. 'But now you know how women feel, because that's the default position for most of you men.' 

'Yes but, here's the thing, it wasn't just one woman. There seems to be a recurring theme here amongst the reviewers, regarding my various alleged shortcomings.'
 

Annie took a look at some of the feedback about Jack, posted by women he'd contacted, and then unsuccessfully tried to stifle a series of sniggers, before starting to read out loud.
"This guy looks as if he's been on the doughnut diet for the past five years,"
now
that's
a bit harsh. And I don't think you look
anythin
g like
“Donald Trump’s jakey wee brother”
either. Right, so I get the drift. You maybe need to try a different website, although it's probably the same people on all of them.' 

'Yes, but you see what I mean? I definitely need someone to look at my profile, with a fresh eye, and see where it needs a tweak. That's where you come in, Annie, because I think I've probably been sending out the wrong message about who I am and what I want.' 

'Which is?'

'That's the problem, I'm not really sure.'
 

'Okay then, let me see what you've done so far.' 

Annie scrolled to the top of Jack's profile page, then announced, 'well first off,
this
isn't good. You definitely need a new picture. Haven’t you taken any better selfies than this?' 

'I don't know if they're any better, but I do have some spares in a folder somewhere on the iPad. Okay, how about if we try it this way? You pretend you've never seen me before and close your eyes. Then, when I say open them again, I'll show you these pictures one at a time. You just say the first thing that comes into your head. You know, like the old ink blot test.' 

'Okay, but remember what you’ve asked me to do here. I'm going to be completely honest and objective,' said Annie. 'So please don't be offended, because this is not in any way personal. Well it is, obviously, but you know what I mean.' 

'Fair enough, hold nothing back, Annie. Okay, here's the first one. Go for it.'
 

'Interpol, ten most wanted,' said Annie, without any hesitation. 

'Okay, close again … and open.' 

'Serial killer. Can't you see? It's the eyes … definitely too close together.' 

'Oh, Christ almighty,’ said Jack. ‘I've only got two pictures left. Here's the next one.' 

‘No
way
. What’s that
thing
sticking between your front teeth …
there
? It looks like you've been chewing the sleeve of your sweater. I know I said earlier that you need something that makes you stand out from the crowd. But I meant in a
good
way.’

'Okay then, I've been saving my best one till last. Surely this one's harmless enough?' pleaded Jack.

'Harmless, yes,' said Annie, sighing in exasperation. 'But you're still not smiling are you?
And
you also look as if your mother dressed you before you went out, which is definitely not a good look for a grown man out on the pull.'
 

'This is ridiculous, Annie. I think you're reading far too much into a single photograph.' 

'And I think you must have spent too many years staring at police mug shots. Look this is not just about simple identification, boss. The picture you choose for your profile on a dating website is the one and only shot you have at making a good first impression. It’s what sells you, so if it doesn’t look right … then you’re toast. So, believe me, it’s worth taking a lot of time over it. Because, if you don’t, women will just go straight on to the next one. I mean, you could be the nicest, funniest, most charming guy in the world.'

'Thanks Annie, you're a real pal.'

'I said you
could
be, not that you
are,
okay? The thing is, if you look even a little bit weird in your picture, that’s it … end of story. So are we both on the same page here?’

'You're right. Same page. Yes.'
 

'Trust me, the average woman will look at a man's picture for five seconds, or less, and if something doesn't click with her right away, she'll just move on to the next one. It doesn't matter if you've said in your profile that you're a well-educated, non-smoker with an interest in opera and running marathons to raise money for orphans’ charities. That would all be complete lies, by the way. But it doesn't matter, because she won't be reading any of it.'  

Looking slightly crestfallen and deflated, Jack said, 'I really don't know if this internet dating business is for me, Annie. It all seems like some kind of glorified meat market.'

'I know, it’s totally sad and shallow, but that’s just the way it is when there’s a lot of competition in a free market. And, by the way, I’m sure you’ve been doing exactly the same thing, when you’ve been looking at pictures of women on these dating websites. Be honest now, you’re not thinking to yourself, this looks like a lovely person, with a nice smile, who probably makes a great pot of soup. You’re checking out how fit she looks. Would her moustache and that slight squint in her left eye be just
too
annoying, when the two of you are locked together in a steamy clinch? All that kind of stuff … am I right?’

'Well, I suppose …'

'I’m right.'

'Okay, you're right. Again. I
get
it. I need a better picture. So what do you suggest?'

'My first thought was that we need to try something really different with the picture, to make you stand out from the crowd. I was thinking I could do something completely radical and maybe pose you like Kai?' 

'Never heard of him,' said Jack, hopefully. 'I take it he's some hunky celeb or pop star?' 

'No, he was the famous dog with the wrinkled, concerned face who was abandoned at Ayr railway station a year or two back. The poor thing was left sitting there waiting patiently, with his lead tied to the railings and a suitcase containing all of his toys and stuff. There were great pictures of him published in most of the Scottish newspapers and then it went totally viral all over the internet. He looked completely confused and pathetic, but with a
very
noble profile.' 

'I can do confused and pathetic,' said Jack, confidently.  

'Yes but it would probably attract the wrong kind of reply. You know, a man kneeling down, wearing a dog collar and tied up.'
 

'Yeah, let's not go there, just yet.' 

'Look, this is stupid,’ said Annie. ‘I’ll just take a couple of new pictures right now with my iPhone. Come on, don’t be shy, there’s hardly anyone in the carriage. Just stand up and let me see what you’re wearing.’

Jack took off his raincoat to reveal a slightly stained dinner suit which had probably been an excellent fit twenty years ago, when he was a good stone and a half lighter.

‘Mmm … it’s not great and don’t even think of trying to do up the buttons, but it’ll have to do.’

‘Does my bum look big in this?’ said Jack, executing a quick twirl as a joke.

‘Yes. But there again, your bum looks big in everything,’ replied Annie, not joking. ‘But we can easily get round that by using a head and shoulders shot. Okay, now give what’s left of your hair a quick comb, hold your gut in as far as you can and remember to give me your very best smile. That’s really important, so try and imagine that you’ve just won a
Euromillions
rollover jackpot and I'm about to hand over the cheque. Right, one two three …
sweaty socks
.’

Annie put her iPhone’s camera in burst mode, quickly reviewed the new pictures and announced, ‘this one’s here’s not
too
bad and I can Photoshop it for you right now. Should only take two or three minutes to fix.’

‘What are you talking about, what needs
fixed?
This is me looking my best.’

‘Stop being paranoid, okay? I’m just going to give the picture a little tweak here and there, to make you look nicer. Bear in mind that every picture of a celeb or film star, that you’ve ever seen in a newspaper, or online, has without exception had a bit of work done on it. So, let’s see … I’ll make the ears a touch smaller, firm up the jowls around your jawline a bit, tone down the red veins on your nose, reduce the bags under the eyes and make your eyes slightly further apart and less bloodshot. There …
done
. What do you think?’

‘That’s a good looking man, right there,’ said Jack, suitably impressed. ‘I’d go out with him myself, no danger.’

‘Okay that’s sorted, now let’s get a second opinion,’ said Annie, who quickly got up from her seat, crossed the aisle and sat down opposite two elderly ladies, who were seated slightly further down the carriage. They had been watching the impromptu photo session with great interest and seemed delighted to have the opportunity to engage with Annie. Jack cringed and sank down in his seat when he saw Annie pass her phone to the two old dears, to show them the
before
pictures and then the chosen
after
portrait. After much giggling, pointing and waving across the aisle towards him, Annie thanked the viewing panel and re-joined Jack, who was by now crimson with embarrassment.