Matt looked forlornly towards the door of the pub, long after Sally and Colin had walked out.
"Same again?" the bar man snapped him out of his trance. He nodded and reminisced about the events of the day. He was not a happy man.
The meeting with his editor earlier that afternoon had been a true ultimatum. Either he came up with the goods and a meaty story or he was out. Simple as that. The boss did not mess around and Matt had seen better journalists than him move on for similar reasons. It was disheartening. This was his third job after all in the media and he was desperate to show he could cut it with the best of them. He knew why they took him on, he knew what they hoped for when they saw his CV and read his name. The tabloids were game for anything but the reputable papers would not even talk to him unless he had a portfolio of work behind him, and so far his was pretty flimsy.
He took a swig of his beer and looked at his watch. Sally and Colin must be at his mother's enjoying a home-cooked dinner by now, he reckoned. It was funny how he could not get her out of his head. She was definitely not his type, but ever since she had stared him down on the plane all those months ago when the hostess incident took place, he had felt a distinct attraction. Maybe it was because she seemed so different from the typical leggy blondes he favoured. He sipped his beer again.
What was it with this Colin fellow though? He was so awkward and peculiar-looking. There was no doubt he was conscientious about his work, despite its dubious aims, but how could a girl like Sally ever fancy him? Matt was convinced he was running a separate agenda. Maybe he was gay? He shook the notion from his head and drained the last of his beer, seeking courage from the bottom of the glass. He had to make a phone call and had been dreading this moment, postponing it as long as possible.
He took out his mobile phone and dialled.
"Sir Percival Deacon speaking," it answered after only two rings.
"Hello father, it's Matthew".
"Same again?" the bar man snapped him out of his trance. He nodded and reminisced about the events of the day. He was not a happy man.
The meeting with his editor earlier that afternoon had been a true ultimatum. Either he came up with the goods and a meaty story or he was out. Simple as that. The boss did not mess around and Matt had seen better journalists than him move on for similar reasons. It was disheartening. This was his third job after all in the media and he was desperate to show he could cut it with the best of them. He knew why they took him on, he knew what they hoped for when they saw his CV and read his name. The tabloids were game for anything but the reputable papers would not even talk to him unless he had a portfolio of work behind him, and so far his was pretty flimsy.
He took a swig of his beer and looked at his watch. Sally and Colin must be at his mother's enjoying a home-cooked dinner by now, he reckoned. It was funny how he could not get her out of his head. She was definitely not his type, but ever since she had stared him down on the plane all those months ago when the hostess incident took place, he had felt a distinct attraction. Maybe it was because she seemed so different from the typical leggy blondes he favoured. He sipped his beer again.
What was it with this Colin fellow though? He was so awkward and peculiar-looking. There was no doubt he was conscientious about his work, despite its dubious aims, but how could a girl like Sally ever fancy him? Matt was convinced he was running a separate agenda. Maybe he was gay? He shook the notion from his head and drained the last of his beer, seeking courage from the bottom of the glass. He had to make a phone call and had been dreading this moment, postponing it as long as possible.
He took out his mobile phone and dialled.
"Sir Percival Deacon speaking," it answered after only two rings.
"Hello father, it's Matthew".
