The Pornographer Diaries

17. Buck Rogered

It was another five hours before we were eventually released. PC Butler and WPC Kensington had one more crack at me but I stuck to my story and refused to budge an inch. The girls must’ve done the same because at about six o’clock all three of us were charged and bailed to appear in two weeks time.

The charges: Public Indecency and Breach of the Peace.

That didn’t sound too bad to me, a fine at worse I figured, so the three of us left to go home. Tanya and Cindy were provided with clothes, which put the mockers on me getting them both back to my place, and I had to make do with a kiss goodbye from each of them at the Tube station.

What a day!

I had a dozen messages from Stuart waiting for me on my answerphone when I got home that evening but I couldn’t be bothered to respond to any of them.

The next morning I’d barely got my arse into my seat when Stuart called me into his office and drilled me about what had happened.

I told him all about it (leaving out the blow-job obviously) and asked him why they’d just shot off and abandoned us. Stuart said that was Howard. It was after all Howard’s car and Howard had been the one behind the wheel but Stuart could’ve made him stop.

‘I tried, I even threatened him but he refused,’ Stuart insisted.

‘Well the girls were fucking furious,’ I told him.

‘Never mind all that, what did you tell the Old Bill? You didn’t mention Bling, did you?’

‘No, I didn’t,’ I replied and gave him the whole story of what I’d said and what I’d been charged with. When I was finished Stuart went off to see Peter and I was left to my own devices.

‘What was all that about?’ Paddy wanted to know, so I went through the whole thing again, although this time I replaced the martyrdom and resentment with exaggeration and high comedy.

‘You fucking silly cunt,’ Hasseem laughed as the story poured out.

As I was talking, Roger answered my phone and called over to me that Peter wanted to see me in his office. He wanted to see me in his office, right now.

What now?

‘Maybe he wants to talk to you about your pay rise,’ Matt suggested.

I knocked on Peter’s door and found Stuart in there already. I took a seat and tried to look as innocent and as non-threatening as possible.

‘Okay, Godfrey. Why don’t you tell me about yesterday?’

So, I told the story again, this time adding the words, ‘So Stuart said...’ or ‘Then Stuart told me to...’ or ‘I wasn’t sure but Stuart reckoned...’ etc at the start and end of every sentence.

When I was finished, I was dismissed for the time being and heard nothing more that day.

In fact, I didn’t even see Stuart again. He and Peter went out somewhere and didn’t come back.

So, I did what I always did on such days and went to the pub for the afternoon.

*

First thing Monday morning, I’m talking eleven o’clock here, I was called into see Peter again.

In his office was himself, Stuart and Peter’s solicitor. I thought I’d been called in to be given legal advice for my up-coming court appearance.

In fact, I’d been called in to be fired.

‘What?’

‘I’m sorry, but the company cannot leave itself open to litigation,’ Peter told me. ‘The police have been in contact with us, as well as the parents of two teenage boys. If we don’t act we are, by definition, admitting responsibility.’

‘Yes, those kids’ parents could take us to the cleaners,’ Peter’s solicitor explained. ‘Disciplinary action must be taken against you, and all links between you and the company must be severed.’

‘But this was his idea,’ I said pointing accusingly at Stuart.

‘My idea was the shoot, my idea wasn’t to do it in public where the whole world could see it happen. You should’ve booked a private court. I told you that this was your responsibility and you agreed to it.’

‘Yeah, but I didn’t think I’d be fucking nicked and sacked for it.’

‘That’s what responsibility’s about, I’m afraid, holding your hands up and accepting the consequences,’ Stuart said without even the slightest trace of irony.

‘You fucking cunts...’

‘Now hold your horses,’ Peter said, stopping me before I could get into my stride. ‘I think you should listen to our proposal before you say anything else. Nigel?’

All eyes turned to the plank in the pin-stripes. He paused for effect, like he was Rumpole of the Windmill or something then turned to me. Or should that be, looked down at me? Even though we were both sat at roughly the same height, some people have an unerring ability to make it seem as though they had to look down at you in order to establish eye contact. This was how Nigel talked to me and I yearned to see him trapped inside a burning bus.

‘Naturally, the company regrets the events of the past few days and, short of admitting any sort of liability, we would be prepared to offer you terms.’

‘Buy me off, you mean?’

‘No, that’s not it at all, we’re...’

‘Look, it’s okay, let’s not beat about the bush here, I am for sale. What are we talking about here?’

Nigel looked at Peter, who nodded at him to continue.

‘Well, taking into account your salary and today’s current job climate, together with age and...’ Nigel cut the spiel when he saw me doing the universal spin-on gesture. ‘Six grand.’

I thought about that for a second then suggested, ‘Twenty’.

Everyone laughed, then Peter’s face turned serious again and he just said, ‘no’.

‘Ten then.’

‘Six.’

‘Come on, meet me half-way here, eight grand?’

‘Six.’

‘Come on, another grand for good will. It’s not going to fucking bankrupt you for fuck’s sake.’

Peter thought it over.

‘Six grand,’ he said. ‘Take it or leave it, we don’t have to give you anything if we don’t want to.’

‘Alright, six grand,’ I agreed, caving in. ‘But, I want that tax-free.’

Peter and Nigel swapped loving looks and finally conceded some ground.

‘Now let’s turn to the matter of your court appearance,’ Nigel said. ‘Do you have a solicitor?’ he asked.

‘No, I was going to defend myself.’

Again, laughter all around.

‘Sorry about that,’ Peter said wiping a tear from his eye. ‘Oh dear, right, well we’re prepared to appoint a solicitor for you and meet all the costs. They’ll be someone not directly associated with the company but they’ll be a very good solicitor nevertheless. Are you happy with that?’

‘Er... yeah, okay. And the girls too? You’ll get one for Tanya and Cindy too?’

‘They’ll act for all three of you,’ Nigel assured me. ‘Furthermore, the company is prepared to pay any fine you receive as a result of this case on the condition that you sign a document admitting sole responsibility.’

‘What if I don’t get a fine? What if I get Community Service or something?’

‘We’ve thought of that, again we’re prepared to pay you compensation of £10 an hour for every hour of Community Service you’re sentenced to. Same with prison time, although this is highly unlikely. We’ll pay you £50 for every day you spend in prison. Again, we don’t have to do any of this, but the company wants to look after you,’ Nigel assured me, and for a moment I thought he was going to give me a big hug. ‘That is the offer. I think you’ll find it’s fair. Take it or leave it.’

‘And the girls too, you’ll pay their fines?’

‘You should just worry about yourself,’ Peter suggested.

‘No, bollocks. I’m not signing anything unless you agree to pick up the girls’ fines too,’ I told them in no uncertain terms. Now, you might think that this was uncharacteristically noble of me and you’d be right. But you know, everyone should try being a hero once in their lives, just to see how it fits. Besides, I knew it was probably the last opportunity I’d ever get to ingratiate myself with two fucktastically foxy porno models and that sort of realisation concentrates the mind.

Peter and Nigel asked me to step outside for a moment and when I stepped back in they agreed.

I could see Stuart’s cogs whirling over and knew I had to make phone calls to Tanya and Cindy before he did otherwise he’d try and nab all the credit.

‘Okay, that’s all agreed. You’ll be paid up to the end of the month and receive a copy of the amended agreement along with a cheque. If you’ll just sign here in three places then we won’t keep you any longer. You can clear your stuff and go,’ Peter told me.

‘And you’ll definitely pay our fines, no matter how big they may be?’

‘It’s in the agreement, the confidential agreement, I should add. Yes, we’ll definitely pay your fines,’ he assured me.

‘Okay then, where do I sign?’ I asked, really looking forward to punching the magistrate in the throat.