He waits expectantly and everybody looks at Sidney.
‘Yes,’ says Sid finally, having stared blankly at the menu for several minutes. ‘That sounds very nice.’
‘I adore corciofi,’ trills the blonde job. This comes as no surprise to me but I reckon she would do herself a bit of good by being more secretive about it. I can’t stand birds that talk dirty. I look at the menu but can only see one word of English.
‘Spaghetti,’ I say with dignity.
‘Certainly, sir. And to follow?’
I look back down the menu but there is definitely nothing there I have ever heard of.
‘Just coffee, thanks,’ I say.
‘Would you like something with the spaghetti?’
‘Chips.’
‘Splendid, splendid,’ says Justin, waving the waiter away when everyone has ordered. ‘There’s so much pretension about eating out, isn’t there? I do like to hear people asking for what they want,’ he reached behind him and grabs hold of a passing waiter. ‘You uncorked the Valpolicella at eleven-fifteen didn’t you? Excellent.’ He looks at his watch. ‘We’ll have that later and start with a bottle of Soave. Make sure it’s well chilled, won’t you?’
‘Certainly.’ The waiter turns to Sidney. ‘Aperitif, sir?’
‘No thanks. I’ve still got my own.’
‘He’s not talking about dentures, you berk!’ I tell him. ‘He wants to know if you fancy a snort before munching.’ Really! You would hardly credit it, would you? And he is in the business as well. He embarrasses me sometimes, he really does.
‘I’ll have a Bleeding Maria,’ says Sid. I see Justin and Mac exchanging glances but Sadie continues to gaze into Sidney’s mug like it is her favourite painting.
‘Uncanny,’ she says and I have often had the same feeling myself, although for different reasons.
Sid is definitely flummoxed when his artichoke arrives and I watch with interest as he prepares to deal with it. He pauses for a minute and then, obviously deciding that everybody will sus he has never seen one before unless he gets stuck in fast, sprinkles sugar all over the leaves and starts attacking it with a knife and fork. ‘I thought it was some kind of melon,’ he says to me afterwards.
Sidney is not doing very well and it is Sam who comes to the rescue.
‘Can I have a bit?’ she says. Sidney has never been known to refuse such a request from a lady and Sam swiftly selects a leaf and sucks the goody from it in the approved fashion, having dunked it in the bowl of vinaigrette provided. Sidney nearly gets it right only he dips his leaves in the finger bowl.
Although most of the conversation at the meal takes the form of Justin rabbiting on about his ideas for a new film and the fantastic amount of cash it is going to make, it is the meal itself I remember most clearly.
For instance, the moment when Sidney sticks his knife into his Peto di pollo and sends a stream of hot butter down the front of Justin’s silk shirt. Also the flaming liqueur called Timbuctoo or something like that. We all have one and after it has burned happily for a couple of minutes and the birds have squeaked with ecstasy at the dizzy excitement of it all, Justin blows his out. Sidney blows his out too. Right out of the glass and down the front of Justin’s long-suffering shirt.
In the circumstances it is not surprising that Sidney hardly knows whether he is coming or going and appears to be agreeing to every proposition that Justin fires at him. Mac has excused himself earlier and suddenly Justin leaps to his feet and shoots out a hand.
‘Splendid, splendid,’ he says. ‘So glad you could join us. I’ll have the papers drawn up and send them round for your signature. I think one day you’ll look back on this meal as a milestone.’ He should say millstone but we don’t know that then. ‘Don’t disturb yourselves,’ he urges as Sid starts to get up. ‘You stay and finish your coffee with the girls. I’ve got to go and do some editing. Beastly nuisance but there it is.’ He waves a hand and is gone.
‘I’d love a teeny weeny brandy,’ says Sadie who is snuggling up so close to Sidney they could be on the same chair.
By the time she has had a couple of largy wargy brandies, it is occurring to me that I am well and truly pissed and that Sam has the most shapely nipples I have seen outside a jar of gherkins. I am also hopelessly in love with her. In the physical sense of the word of course.
‘That was lovely,’ she says. ‘I feel all warm and glowing inside. I don’t want to go back to work.’
‘Don’t go back to work,’ I husk. ‘Let’s go somewhere where we can make love.’ It is smashing being pissed because you can say things like that all day without feeling any kind of embarrassment or hang-up. Sam looks me straight in the eyes and puts her hand on mine.
‘Oh dear. I’m so weak,’ she breathes. ‘I just can’t help it.’
‘You have beautiful thighs – I mean eyes,’ I tell her, looking at her tits. Really, I reckon if I don’t get my hands on her soon I am going to explode. ‘Where can we go?’ I murmur.
Sam looks desperate. ‘I don’t know. Maybe –’ She turns to Sadie who is kissing Sidney in a manner that reminds me of a female vulture feeding its young, and gives her a couple of sharp nudges which eventually prise her off Sid’s cakehole. They have a little whisper and depart to powder their noses.
Sid winks at me triumphantly. “I reckon we’re away here,’ he gloats. I am trying to clear up the coffee spilt when Sidney lurched to his feet as the girls left the table, so it takes me a few minutes to answer. ‘What are you doing down there?’ says Sid, sounding worried.
‘Trying to get the coffee stains off my jeans. What do you think, you clumsy berk?’
‘I thought you were having yourself away for a minute. Couldn’t control your excitement.’
‘You’re pissed, Sid.’
‘Yeah. But what about those two, eh? I reckon even you could score there. What a right couple of little darlings. I should have found out about this movie caper before.’
He opens a box of matches and sticks one between his teeth like Paul Newman. He must be pissed because he has two sticking out of his gob already.
‘We hopa very much that you enjoy your meal and we hopa very much to see you again.’ The Head Waiter is beaming down at Sidney but Sidney does not beam back.
‘What’s this then?’ he says.
‘It’s the bill, Sidney,’ I tell him. ‘You must have seen one before somewhere.’
‘But I thought those other blokes were paying?’
‘I expect they forgot, Sidney. In the film business little sums of money like that are hardly worth considering.’
Sidney looks at the bill and winces. ‘Twenty-eight quid! I don’t reckon that’s inconsiderable. I reckon it’s bleeding extravagant. That would keep me in grub for a month.’
I have to be careful with Sid because I don’t want him getting all narky and backing out of the deal. My whole future depends on it.
‘Pay it and forget about it, Sid. It’s an investment compared with what you stand to make out of the picture. And think of those birds you’re getting chucked in.’
Luckily the girls return at this moment and I see Sidney’s glazed eyes get another coating of frost. ‘I’ll have to write a cheque,’ he grumbles.
‘Darlinks,’ trills Sadie, ‘We thought we’d take you to the cinema. I’ve got a friend at Fantastic Unbelievable