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e Squared

Page 23

by Matt Beaumont


  From: Róisín O’Hooligan

  To: All Staff

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 09.14

  Subject: FYI

  The Serbs have skedaddled up to the management suite like a crack SWAT team and reception is unmanned. I’d say this is the perfect time for any stationery thieves/drug mules to nip in or out.

  Róisín

  Reception

  From: Katie Espiner

  To: Aislinn Casey

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 09.15

  Subject: Oh bugger

  Lazza’s being a total bollock head. He wants me to fly to France to sign up some cretinous blogger. The man’s a total perv as well. Not Larry, the blogger. Better cancel synchronized swimming tonight. Soz.

  From: Katie Espiner

  To: All Staff

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 09.17

  Subject: Interns?

  Any interns free to edit the new Sophie Kinsella? Should be an absolute doddle—she can spell and everything.

  Katie Espiner

  Senior Commissioning Editor

  Transworld Publishers

  From: Aislinn Casey

  To: Alison Martin, Sophie Holmes, Kate Samano, Katie Espiner, Charlotte Nash, Emma Buckley, Lydia Newhouse, Gavin Hilzbrich [Transworld SynchroStarz]

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 09.21

  Subject: Tonight’s practice

  Sorry, girls (and guy), but tonight’s session is canceled. Katie can’t make it and you won’t need reminding what happened the last time we tried to perform without our glorious leader! But anyone who wants to get in some private pool time, go for it. The Publishers Association Annual Swimming Gala is less than six weeks away and those eggbeaters and flamingos need work (naming no names, Gavin)!

  From: David Crutton

  To: Sally Wilton

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 09.42

  Subject: Godley

  I’ve given this morning’s incident a great deal of thought. I disagree with you. This is not Godley’s get-out-of-jail card. He’s clearly cleverer than we gave him credit for. What we failed to get out of him in his supposedly “full” confession was the name of his accomplice. Between them they’ve made the fatal error of upping the stakes. Have Slobodan bulk up his team. Tell him I want every staff member interrogated before end of play tomorrow.

  And get me some furniture. Zitter’s never here. Raid her office.

  From: David Crutton

  To: All Staff

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 09.47

  Subject: An open letter

  Dear Thieving Scum

  Now you have gone too far. You are an oozing pustule, one that resides in the sweaty arse-cleft of society. I hereby serve notice that you are about to be lanced, and it will not be pleasant. For you, that is. I, on the other hand, will enjoy the process immensely.

  From: David Crutton

  To: Dotty Podidra

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 09.58

  Subject:

  Get me coffee. And pictures of Beckham. Stripped off. I need to see his tattoos.

  From: David Crutton

  To: All Staff

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.08

  Subject: Guidelines

  As you know, the President of GIT and his team are in today for an extremely important presentation. With the aim of creating the most favorable impression, I have a few guidelines that I ask you all to adhere to:1. I know it’s the time of year for “sniffles,” but please stifle your coughs. Nothing must be allowed to draw attention to the alleged “health issues” that beset decent, law-abiding cigarette manufacturers.

  2. Under no circumstances—and I cannot stress this strongly enough—refer to our client as git. The company’s American representatives are oblivious to the word’s usage on this side of the Atlantic, but its British ones certainly aren’t, and they are understandably sensitive on the matter. The company will be referred to either as G.I.T. (pronounced gee-eye-tee) or by its full name of Galax (pronounced Gay-lax) International Tobacco.

  3. Any of you that have embarked upon the annual January folly of “giving up” are required to hide all quitting aids (nicotine gum, patches, inhalers, etc.) in your desk drawers.

  4. Check all work surfaces and bulletin boards for Department of Health anti-smoking propaganda and take it to the shredder.

  5. For heaven’s sake, look busy.

  If we all pull together, we will succeed in the crucial mission of bedding in this highly lucrative piece of business.

  From: Milton Keane

  To: Dotty Podidra, Susi Judge-Davis-Gaultier

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.10

  Subject: Did you read that e?!

  GAY-lax!!!!!!!! Can’t stop laughing. Big Gay Tobacco!!!!!!!

  From: David Crutton

  To: Caroline Zitter

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.13

  Subject: GIT

  And will you be adorning us with your presence at the meeting, Caroline?

  From: Caroline Zitter

  To: David Crutton

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.14

  Subject: Out of Office AutoReply

  I am out of the office attending Scientology: Millions of Top Hollywood Celebrities Can’t Be Wrong. I will return on Tuesday 27th January.

  From: David Crutton

  To: Caroline Zitter

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.15

  Subject: Re: Out of Office AutoReply

  Thought not.

  From: Ted Berry

  To: Susi Judge-Davis-Gaultier

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.17

  Subject: O’Keefe

  Where the fuck is he? We have a major creative presentation of his work and he should be here. Find him. And while you’re at it, find Harvey Halfwit. He should be helping out. And can you lay hands on morphine? Fucking ribs are killing me.

  From: David Crutton

  To: Bill Geddes

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.18

  Subject: The Jap

  Where is she? She has a shitload to do before GIT get here. As do you. My office at 10.30 for a heads up.

  From: Bill Geddes

  To: David Crutton

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.20

  Subject: Re: The Jap

  She’s at a doctor’s appointment. I’m sure she’ll be in soon. I’ll see you at 10.30.

  From: Bill Geddes

  To: Kazu Makino

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.22

  Subject: Where the hell are you?

  DC’s spitting nails. They’re especially sharp and dipped in slightly racist bile. I know you’re not talking to me, but for your own sake, I think you’d better get in.

  BTW, any luck in tracking Don down?

  From: Susi Judge-Davis-Gaultier

  To: Ted Berry

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.26

  Subject: Re: O’Keefe

  No one knows where Liam is and there’s no reply from his home or mobile numbers. I tried Harvey, but I only got his Polish plumber, who was actually very rude and unhelpful. Sorry.

  From: Ted Berry

  To: Susi Judge-Davis-Gaultier

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.28

  Subject: Re: O’Keefe

  If you do get hold of either of them, tell them they’re fired. Tell Adrijana and Zlatan that they’ll be tying up the loose ends on the GIT campaign. And tell them they’re coming to the meeting. I need a (mute) creative presence.

  Another thing: tell Yossi he’s got a gig at noon. I want him in reception singing “Cigarettes and Alcohol” as the client arrives.

  From: Bill Geddes

  To: Liam O’Keefe

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.44

  Subject: Where the hell are you?

  It’s your Big Day. Thought you wouldn’t miss it for the world. The Gaultier chick is promising searing doom if you don’t show. TB is especially grouchy. Apparently both his ribs and his pride endured a kicking yesterday—it seems Graham Fink has perfected a devastating Teh Krueng Kheng Krueng Kao.

&
nbsp; Just been through the GIT presentation boards with DC and TB and they look magnificent. They want some “tweaks” though, and if you’re not around to make them, someone else will only fuck it up for you.

  From: Liam O’Keefe

  To: Harvey Harvey

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.45

  Subject: Life and stuff

  Dear Dead Guy

  Just thought I’d update you on news from this side of the Stygian divide (woo-hoo, my first classical reference in an e-mail. Fuck knows where that came from). Decided not to go into work today. I know it’s a Big Day at the office with opportunity aplenty for personal career growth, but I can’t be arsed with all that if I’m honest. Thought I’d just chill at yours. I’ve become a dab hand at Super PONG, but I have to say the scope for improvement is strictly limited. Naruto: Ultimate Ninja Storm it’s not.

  You haven’t had any calls except for one from Susi. She thinks you should be at work. I didn’t tell her you’re dead. I didn’t tell it was me either. That’s because she’s trying to track me down too. BTW, if she should ever ask you (in a seance or something), you have a Polish plumber. He’s called Alojzy. He’s a foul-mouthed sod. I think he enjoyed unleashing his repertoire on the Sooz.

  When I get to your new hood, ask me to do my sweary Polish plumber for you. I’ve got it down pretty well. Comes from living over a Paki shop that about a year ago turned into a Polski sklep.

  Think I’ll watch some telly now. I’m working my way through your Dr. Whos. I’m halfway through Patrick Troughton. I’ll let you know who my favorite is when I reach the end.

  Say hello to Paul Newman, if you bump into him (can spirits bump?). Tell him I love his work, of course I do, but that his salad dressing is overrated. And if you see God, tell him it’s about time he got off the fence. Muslims or Christians: who are the fucking daddies?

  Liam

  From: Susi Judge-Davis-Gaultier

  To: Ted Berry

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.48

  Subject: Re: O’Keefe

  Adrijana and Zlatan will be with you as soon as they’ve finished their “performance piece” for Murray Mints. By the way, Zlatan has six stitches in his face—a fight with “scum s**t from Kosovo, which belong Serbia whatever scum s**t say.” Are you sure you want him in the GIT meeting?

  From: Ted Berry

  To: Susi Judge-Davis-Gaultier

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.50

  Subject: Re: O’Keefe

  Marketing is war, Susi, and I need warriors. Zlatan is on my A Team.

  From: Brett Topolski

  To: Liam O’Keefe

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.56

  Subject: How was your weekend then?

  Was it jam-packed with redemption? Did you make amends to exes, irked Turks and hypothetical victims of injustice? I was getting worried about you on Friday. But what am I? Your fucking mother? You’re a big boy and I’m 3,396 miles away (I Googled it). Besides, I have woes of my own. Vince? Don’t get me started.

  From: Róisín O’Hooligan

  To: All Staff

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 10.58

  Subject: If anyone sees O’Keefe ...

  ... tell him he has visitors. They remind me of the guys who used to hassle us to rent Jet Skis in Bodrun last summer. Except they aren’t wearing Speedos and they’re not smiling. And I think they might be packing heat. Is it just me or is this place getting more and more like the backroom at the Bada Bing?

  Róisín

  Reception

  From: Bill Geddes

  To: Liam O’Keefe

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 11.03

  Subject: You have gentlemen callers ...

  ... and judging by their demeanor, it makes excellent sense that you’re lying doggo. By the way, DC’s going mental because someone did an office clearance on him. He’s convinced Evil Neil Godley is the mastermind behind a massive criminal gang. But you wouldn’t know anything about all that, would you?

  Look, is there anything I can do? Witness-protection program, say? I have an old uni mate who won’t tell me what he does, but I suspect he’s MI5. He might be able to blag something.

  From: Janice Crutton

  To: David Crutton

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 11.05

  Subject: In case you’re interested...

  ... I’m at home. I shouldn’t be at home. I should be at work, negotiating my client though the legal minefield that is Crossrail. But, thanks to you, I have had to delegate (which, as you know, is just a euphemism for abdicate). Why am I not at work? Why am I actively flushing what remains of my career down the toilet? Because of you. It seems that having the standard solo midlife crisis isn’t enough for you. You have to drag your children down with you.

  Tamara is loaded with antibiotics and in bed with a fever. God knows what filth your so-called “artist” dipped his needles in, but now her tattoo is septic. And Noah? Where the hell is Noah? He’s supposed to be in school for a test, but he has disappeared. Something to do with the fact that the poor kid now has “Queer” indelibly inked on his arm? You tell me.

  I really am going out of my mind here, David. But do you know what? I’d be measurably more insane if you were still around. So if you’re thinking that the dust might have settled, that you might be able to drift back home and carry on as if nothing has happened—because God knows you’ve done that before and, more fool me, I’ve let you get away with it—if you’re thinking anything like that, STOP RIGHT NOW. Stay away.

  For good.

  From: Dotty Podidra

  To: David Crutton

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 11.07

  Subject: Now that you’ve got some furniture back ...

  ... would you like me to make you a nice pot of tea? Something herbal?

  From: David Crutton

  To: Dotty Podidra

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 11.09

  Subject: Re: Now that you’ve got some furniture back ...

  Are you a complete imbecile? You think because I’ve acquired Zitter’s vegetarian coffee table and holistic scatter cushions I want herbal fucking tea? Get me espresso. Make it a double. I need to sharpen up pre-GIT. And find the Jap PA. And tell the gay PA that since his boss isn’t here, he can make himself useful for me. I have plenty of jobs for him. And find out why the Serbs/Wilton haven’t yet delivered me a thief. And if—strictly on the off-chance—you were thinking of sending flowers or some other conciliatory shit to my wife, don’t.

  OK?

  Just don’t.

  From: Dotty Podidra

  To: Milton Keane

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 11.10

  Subject: DC

  Hate to tell you, but he wants you. He has “jobs.”

  From: Milton Keane

  To: Dotty Podidra

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 11.11

  Subject: Re: DC

  Aagh! Can’t do it!! Have to be at Endemol at 12.00!!!

  From: Dotty Podidra

  To: Milton Keane

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 11.13

  Subject: Re: DC

  You have to! He’ll probably kill you if you don’t. Then he’ll kill me!!

  From: Milton Keane

  To: Dotty Podidra

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 11.15

  Subject: Re: DC

  I’m sorry, Dotty, but I’m not going to let Crutton or anyone else stand in my way. BB is my dream. It has always been my dream. If I have to die for that dream, then so be it.

  From: David Crutton

  To: All Staff

  Sent: 26 January 2009, 11.16

  Subject: Smokers

  The GIT delegation arrives at 12.00 and I want to greet them with a rapturous tribute to the joys of the noble weed. To that end, all smokers will forgo their habitual cigarette breaks until 11.55, at which time you will proceed to the front of the building and light up. And I don’t want the usual hangdog expressions. Imagine for five minutes that you’re extras in a ’70s Coke commercial and act accordingly. I
n other words, look as if you’re enjoying yourselves. Finally, if you must smoke Silk Cut, B&H or Marlboro, for God’s sake hide the packs.

 

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