Sid's New Office

Sid, my agent, is having an office warming party in Dagenham. He has promoted it as a ‘Brave move into new territory’ and I go along with that, unwilling to accept what such a fall from Regent Street really means. When I finally negotiate the dual carriageways and find unit 112c in the industrial estate, I discover that I am the only guest except for an elderly woman who is half-drunk and somber and who turns out to be his mother. For some reason I had assumed she was dead. Like mine.

Sid is absurdly upbeat and I think he has had too much Red Bull. He hugs me then sits on the edge of a tatty leather sofa.

“Am I late?” I ask, looking round the empty office.

“People are drifting in and out,” he claims, chewing a cocktail sausage. “You’re the guest of honour, though.”

“That’s…frightening,” I say. He tells me something about his life and I nod and look round at the tiny room and notice the tediously bland paintings on the wall. Already I want to leave and sit in traffic. “Last night I was in an Aberdeen Steakhouse,” he is saying, “And I choked on a hunk of beef. It’s happened before and after a few seconds it usually slides down my throat and I’m just a bit sore for a day or so. I’m just greedy and lazy and can’t be bothered to chew for very long. But this time I realized straight away that I couldn’t breathe at all.”

“Jesus. Who were you with?”

“Oh, I was just by myself.”

“You went to an Aberdeen Steakhouse by yourself?”

“Yes. Why?”

“No reason. Carry on.”

“Well, the waitress happened to be passing and she looked alarmed and she asked me if I was okay. And even though I was dying I put my thumbs up.”

“Why?”

“Even though I was choking to death I still didn’t want to bother anyone. I didn’t want to cause a fuss. I would rather have died quietly in my booth than have people run around after me. Is that terribly British or is there something really wrong with me?”

”I think there may be other issues at work here. But cats go off and hide when they’re dying because they don’t want anyone to see.”

“Maybe they don’t know anyone can help them,” Sid says.

“Possibly. I’m not sure what we’re talking about anymore.” I spread my arms and smile. “Congratulations!” I manage.

“Thank you,” he says, and he almost looks embarrassed. “I’m really happy here.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I can imagine.”

“Dagenham is becoming a real hotbed of the publishing world.”

This time I don’t respond. I crack open a Stella and take a few deep gulps. Sid stands up and does some shadow boxing and then we drink and smile awkwardly.

“Harper wants me to go to a sci-fi convention next week,” I tell him.

“That’s great!” Sid says. “Where?”

“Doncaster.”

“That’s great,” he says again.

“Well…I’m still in denial a little, I think. I’m not sure whether I’m ready to jump in.”

“What’s the problem?”

“You know, I’m just still a little…They want me to do a reading and I don’t know if I can.”

“Why not?”

He looks genuinely confused. “Just…the fact that I’m not comfortable with the sci-fi tag.”

“Really?”

I look at him for a long time. “Are you being serious?”

“I vaguely remember you being a bit of a pain about it, but still?”

“Sid, I can’t believe that you don’t know this about me. I want to be a proper writer.”

“You are!” he says. “A damn good one. Which reminds me, you never sent me the end of the book.”

“What book?”

“Your book. What’s it called?” He clicks his finger.

“You mean my novel?” He nods. “Clear History?”

“Yeah. It cuts off as those two blokes are flying in that spaceship and I never got the end.”

“Sid, what are you telling me?” He shakes his head, unsure. “I sent it to you a year ago. First of all, that is the ending. Second of all, it’s not a spaceship. Thirdly, you thought all this time that you hadn’t read the end of my book and you only bring it up now?”

“Well, there’re a lot of books on my shelf. And truth be told, I’m not into sci-fi either. Really, though. That’s how it ends?” I nod mournfully. “Huh. It could work.”

His mother calls him over then and I notice that she is senile. I wait for other guests to arrive but they don’t and then a train rushes past close enough to rattle the windows.