CHAPTER 2... is live
The story continues
If you missed Chapter 1 of “The bomb in the shed…” read it here
Some lovely reader quotes from chapter 1 (Thanks) … ‘Great story so far’, ‘I love this - I'm hooked’, ‘It’s definitely intriguing’, ‘My eyes are peeled for the next chapter’
Previously on “The bomb in the shed…”; Feeling lost and isolated at Camilla’s book launch, Arthur meets Jacob and invites him to see his little project, Bella, in the hope of getting funding to finish her and to encourage Elizabeth to return to the shed.
And here we go with CHAPTER 2…
Chapter 2
Jacob knocked on the door and waited.
“Come.”
Kinga Kovács sounded out of breath. Which meant she’d either just given someone a massive bollocking, or she was past mile twelve on the treadmill. It turned out to be the latter. She slowed her speed as Jacob entered her office, but she didn’t stop entirely. How the hell did she do it? Physically she was big, almost six foot and heavy set, but amazingly fit and fast. She was training for yet another marathon.
“How’s the raise going, Kinga?” he asked.
“How the fuck do you think it’s going?”
Kinga’s distinctive Hungarian accent came through most strongly when she was swearing, which was most of the time. Her voice had a singsong quality but with a staccato edge to the consonants, her emphasis often landing in the place you least expected it. In this case heavily on the word fuck. She wiped the sweat from her face with a towel and picked up the TV remote. Jacob caught a glimpse of The Real Wives of Beverley Hills on the screen before she changed the channel. Did she really watch crap like that? When he saw what replaced it Jacob wished she would turn the channel back.
It was his Bloomberg interview on pause.
Shit.
Kinga hit play.
“Jacob, some people say you’re the one who put the star into the Rockstar One fund. Is that right?”
On TV he managed to come across as both uncomfortable and a little pleased with himself at the same time. It wasn’t a good look.
“It was a team effort, Sally.”
Even he didn’t think his reply sounded very convincing.
Sally continued, “Don’t be modest, you discovered Gemini Blue, rumour says at a cocktail party of all places. They made the Rockstar One fund a hit.”
“Most early stage investing is dodging bullets. You need to get out there and do a bit of prospecting to find gold.”
“But a couple of years into Rockstar Two and some say things aren’t going so well. Maybe lightning really doesn’t strike in the same place twice?” She smiled sweetly.
All that flattery had just been to butter him up, let down his guard. She’d been so nice in the green room.
“Pre-revenue tech is a volatile investment space. That’s why most VCs don’t play there. It can be a rollercoaster ride sometimes but we’re right on track.”
Sally nodded, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve been touting Sensidium as the next Gemini Blue, it’s certainly the company that seems to be keeping Rockstar Two’s head above water. Is it true the product trials have run into problems?”
He’d paused, just a moment, but it was enough to undermine all the confident denials that followed. Kinga chose that moment to hit pause on the remote, his face caught halfway between expressions, about to speak. He looked like a moron.
She said, “Really, Jacob? I have to hear this shit from Sally, junior reporter from butt fuck nowhere? How bad is it?”
Kinga pronounced his name Yakob and somehow managed to make it sound like another swear word.
“The full results aren’t in.”
Kinga was still running. And staring. “Don’t bullshit me.”
Why lie? She was going to find out sooner rather than later.
“It’s bad.”
The treadmill stopped.
“How did you manage to screw this up?”
When everyone was riding high on Gemini Blue it was all about the team, now it was all going south it seemed to be on him.
He said, “There’s a way out I think. I just met a new start-up, pre-revenue, boot strapped, great tech.”
“Bit late closing the stable door once the horses are fucked.”
It could be funny when Kinga mixed up her metaphors. Not now.
“We can get them into Rockstar Two under the radar. An acquisition by Sensidium.”
The treadmill started again. That had to be a good sign.
She said. “What space?”
“Clean energy.”
Not a lie, just not the whole truth. He couldn’t tell Kinga about Bella.
She said, “I can deal with the rumours. How long can we keep the results of the trial quiet?”
“Three months for sure, six at the most. It should be enough.”
God he hoped that was true. It had to be true.
The treadmill went back up to full speed and Kinga’s feet pounded hard on the belt.
She said, “Ok do it. But I want to see the details, ok?”
He nodded.
“And don’t screw it up again,” Kinga added.
It was always hard to know when she was done with you, and you didn’t want to try and leave before she was.
He waited.
Kinga said, “Go on then, piss off.”
Definitely done.
---
Camilla had been on the Groucho Club website to check it out before getting ready. Where mavericks belong. Was she a maverick? It certainly wasn’t how she saw herself, she just liked to write stories. But people kept telling her she was breaking boundaries and bravely reinventing herself so maybe she was. What did mavericks wear for an informal business meeting at ten o’clock on a Tuesday morning? Mavericks probably didn’t ask themselves that question. In the end she chose her favourite full length animal print dress, right for any occasion.
The club was a large converted townhouse on Dean Street in Soho. It wasn’t clear she’d found the right address at first. No signs. But it was definitely the place. Maybe not being easy to find was the point. More exclusive. Alex had suggested Camilla go in by taxi. You can afford it now, Mum. Which was true, but she’d told her daughter not to be so silly, it was a waste of money, and she’d gone on the Northern Line instead. Perhaps Alex was right after all though, Camilla was exhausted already and her feet were killing her.
Inside it was busy. There was a young man and woman on reception, dressed in trendy black clothes, dealing efficiently with a constant stream of enquiries. Camilla waited her turn then announced herself as confidently as she could manage. She’d never been one for airs and graces but she couldn’t help but feel a thrill when her name was recognised and she was greeted warmly. Welcome to the club Mrs Price, this is your first visit with us I believe? Yes it was, and that had to mean things were going well, surely. Maybe the launch was even better than they’d hoped. The young man guided her to the restaurant personally, even though it meant keeping other guests waiting at the desk.
Amira jumped up from the table and welcomed Camilla with a big beaming smile, her face as always framed by her Hijab, a muted burnt orange today. Her agent was a cheery young woman anyway but she seemed particularly full of beans this morning. Next to her, still seated and serenely calm, was Sandra Bellingham.
The Sandra Bellingham.
It was like meeting the Queen. Camilla had seen her at functions before and they’d even been introduced once, I hear you’re our new star author, but there were hundreds of writers at the Sandra Bellingham Literary agency, she probably said that to all of them. Their table had that lived-in feel that suggested she and Amira had been there for a while. A meeting before the meeting? They had a bottle of champagne on ice, their glasses were full, and a third was placed in front of the empty chair.
“Camilla, so lovely to see you, please do sit.” Sandra’s voice purred.
“Thank you,” replied Camilla. A waiter appeared beside her, poured her drink and placed a brunch menu on her plate. “What are we celebrating?”
Her hosts shared a brief knowing glance, even the great lady herself smiled, a feature absent from all the pictures Camilla had seen of her.
Sandra raised her glass, “To Jacqueline Devereaux.”
They clinked and drank. Camilla had never had champagne this early in the day before, not even at Christmas. It gave her a sudden rush of happiness. She took a second sip.
Amira said, “We just got an offer for the film rights. Netflix.”
It was a tiny squeal of a voice by the time she got to the name of the streamer. It was like she couldn’t hold it in anymore and it burst out. She shot an apologetic look to Sandra who rolled her eyes. Clearly this wasn’t the manner of announcement they’d agreed. But it didn’t dent the smiles.
Sandra said, “It’s a three film deal, options for more, Hollywood A-listers. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
It was hard to take it all in. Amira had hinted that some kind of film deal was possible but they’d kept everything very quiet. What would Arthur say? He seemed to struggle with the success of her books, what on earth would he think about films on Netflix?
Amira put a comforting hand on Camilla’s arm. “Are you ok? It must all be a bit of a shock.”
“It’s wonderful of course. I was just a bit worried about Arthur.”
Her agent nodded sympathetically. They often discussed how Camilla’s new career was impacting her relationships at home. She was very understanding.
“Sod Arthur,” said Sandra, as she refilled their glasses.
Sandra’s gentle bonhomie had been replaced by a steeliness more redolent of her photographs.
Camilla said, “You don’t understand…”
She was cut off before she had a chance to explain further.
“I understand perfectly well,” said Sandra. “You’re not the first of my authors to think about tempering their careers because of their husbands, and I’m sure you won’t be the last. I’m not having it.” She paused, then added, “Do you know why the Groucho club was founded in the first place?”
She was staring at Camilla intensely. It was easy to see why the people at Netflix might not relish a seat opposite her at the negotiating table. Camilla didn’t have an answer, but even if she did she wouldn’t have offered it.
Sandra continued, “It was to create a space where a woman could sit alone at a bar with a drink and not be taken for a prostitute. That’s not a joke.”
Amira added, “Your stories are loved by so many people, Camilla. You have a voice, it should be out there for everyone. It’s important.”
The girl was so passionate about what Camilla was trying to do with her books, sometimes more so than Camilla herself if that was possible. She’d got it straight away, that’s why Camilla had chosen her from a number of agents with offers on the table even though she was the least experienced.
Sandra reached to the floor, lifted her silver Hermes Kelly bag onto the table, took out an envelope and handed it to Camilla. “Here, open it.”
Camilla could feel Amira and Sandra’s eyes on her as she scanned the letter until her eyes settled on the number at the bottom. A large number beside a dollar sign. Camilla had to check twice to make sure she’d read it right.
Good Lord.
That was a lot of money.
And just imagine her stories brought to life on screen and seen by millions of people. Who would play her heroine? Helen Mirren? Dame Judy Dench? Of course Arthur would be happy for her, wouldn’t he? Anyway, she didn’t have to tell him, not quite yet.
Camilla raised her glass, “To Jaqueline Devereaux.”
---
Arthur met Jacob for lunch at the Red Lion pub. It was his and Camilla’s local. Or had been. When was the last time they’d been together? He couldn’t even remember. It was traditional, warm and cosy. But it clearly wasn’t the kind of place where Jacob usually took meetings. He arrived in a bright blue suit made of some kind of shiny material which looked expensive. He searched in vain for somewhere to hang his jacket, gave up, folded it neatly and placed it on the chair next to him, having brushed some crisp crumbs off first. They tried a little small talk over a pint, but that didn’t go so well. Arthur wasn’t really capable. So they ordered some food and got down to business. It was relief to get onto the topic of his research.
Jacob said, “I had someone look through the files you sent me, they were impressed.”
“That’s good,” Arthur replied, feeling quietly pleased with himself.
It had been hard to decide what to send over. Like inviting Jacob into the shed, sharing details of his research didn’t come naturally. He didn’t want to give everything away, just enough to pique Jacob’s interest and hopefully get the money that would allow him to finish Bella. He’d spent hours trying to get the balance right. Elizabeth was a great help. It was good to have her back in the shed at last, she seemed more energised. But everything depended on Jacob and his money.
“You’ve definitely created something special…”
Exactly right. Bella was special. Jacob’s words gave Arthur a sense of satisfaction that the steak and ale pie he was picking at was failing to do. He didn’t have much of an appetite at the best of times and could barely force more than a couple of mouthfuls down today.
“… Although I’m not sure you’re seeing the big picture on this.”
Arthur’s fork paused halfway between plate and mouth. “What do you mean?”
“Clean energy.” Jacob was leaning forward now, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Your technology could be used to light homes, power businesses, to reinvent travel. Cheap, safe renewable power. The possibility are endless, it could be worth billions.”
What did that have to do with Bella?
“I couldn’t build anything like that,” said Arthur.
“We have people who can help you,” replied Jacob. “And we can give you all the money and resources you need to fund your research, right now. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Arthur had got Jacob all wrong. He wasn’t there to help him, he was a vulture circling, waiting for Bella to die so he could pick at her carcass and feed himself.
He got up and reached for his coat. “I want to build Bella.”
Jacob’s look of triumph collapsed into one of confusion.
“You can’t really want to build…” Jacob looked around self-consciously and lowered his voice, “…a bomb. It’s crazy.”
Arthur said, “I’m sorry, this was a mistake.”
He fled the pub and breathed in the cold air as he walked home through the streets lined with semi-detached houses, all much like his own. Though he didn’t like what Jacob had said at all his anger soon faded to disappointment. He’d dared to dream that he was going to get a chance to finish Bella, to be with Elizabeth again, but it was an illusion. It probably wasn’t Jacob’s fault, he was doing what all venture capitalists probably did. Hunting for the money. Arthur had been rude to the young man, he’d even left him with the bill.
The house was quiet when Arthur got home, Camilla would be out for hours yet. He gave Scout some treats and she wolfed them down in a second. Cats were happy with simple things, people seemed destined to never be. Money was probably all Jacob thought about. Not Arthur though. What would he do with billions?
Unless he used the money to build Bella.
Could that work? Go along with the clean energy idea until he had what he needed. I couldn’t build anything like that. Jacob had misunderstood what Arthur had meant. He could probably build just about anything he put his mind to. But he had to want to build it, to feel it in his bones. That was what he’d learned after all these years. Could he fake it just to get the money he needed for what he truly wanted, Bella?
Arthur went out to the shed, rolled back the carpet and lifted Bella up and out from the darkness into the light. Scout watched him nervously from the corner, she never seemed to get used to the noise. Arthur brought the chair over from his workbench, sat, and ran his fingers along the metal of the casing and over the components within. They were cool to the touch still, yet to be heated by the warmth of the room.
“How did it go?”
It was Elizabeth. She was there with him now, perched on the workbench. She never sat still long enough to get comfortable in a chair. The familiar half-smile on her face was the one she always wore when she’d been watching him unnoticed. Like he was an equation she couldn’t quite work out. Her long dark hair hung loose on one side, tucked behind her ear on the other, exactly as he always remembered it. He’d hoped she’d come today but seeing her now only made what had just happened feel more painful.
He shook his head.
Elizabeth looked disappointed but not surprised.
She said, “You know I can’t stay. If we’re not working on Bella then I can’t be here anymore.”
“I know.” He turned away. It was impossible to look at her.
Elizabeth came over and hunched down in front of him so she was looking right into his eyes, her face close to his. When things got difficult his instinctive reaction was to withdraw back into himself. He couldn’t help it. She never let him get away with it.
“Why did you show Bella to Jacob?” she asked.
“You know we had to, we needed someone. The money.”
“Yes, but why him?”
Arthur shrugged. He’d been the right person at the right time. But it was pointless. It didn’t matter who it was, no-one was going to help them. Why would they?
“You like him, don’t you? You think he’s smart.” She had that half-smile look again, now with a familiar touch of mischievousness. “Did he pay you a compliment? Massage that big ego of yours? I bet he did. Funny old Bear.”
Arthur looked away again, he didn’t like it when Elizabeth got like this. She loved to tease him sometimes. And the old stung. She probably didn’t mean it like that. Funny old Bear was something she’d often called him back in New Mexico. But she hadn’t aged a day since, while Arthur was all too aware of how old and frail he’d become.
She said, “Don’t get mad. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s fine.” He could never stay angry at her for more than a moment anyway.
“And don’t give up either. You promised us. Ok?”
“Ok.”
Arthur’s phone rang.
It was Jacob.
“Listen, Arthur, I’m sorry about today. I didn’t mean to insult you.”
Jacob sounded genuinely mortified. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.
Arthur said, “That’s ok, it’s just all very personal for me.”
“Why is it so important? Why do you need to finish Bella?”
“It’s hard to explain.”
What could he say? He couldn’t tell Jacob about Elizabeth. He’d not talked to a soul about her, not even Camilla. Especially not Camilla.
There was a pause at the other end of the line. Then Jacob said, “Why don’t we do both? You work with us on clean energy, we give you what you need to build Bella?”
Arthur looked at Bella, lying on the platform, her insides exposed, beautifully formed but incomplete, like a precious patient part way through life-saving surgery. Then at Elizabeth. She was hunched down beside him still as he sat in his chair, listening in to the call, their faces were close. She was smiling now. Her whole face lit up when she smiled.
“Yes,” he replied. That would work.”
That’s it for Chapter 2, I hope you enjoyed it and are looking forward to more.
NEXT CHAPTER out now - Chapter 3
I’d love to hear your thoughts…
Here are some questions for you to mull over …
What questions do you have about Jacob now we know a bit more about him?
What might it add to the story seeing the world from Camilla’s and Jacob’s POV not just Arthur’s?
What are your thoughts about Elizabeth?
(But share anything you like)…
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I liked hearing the story from camilla's perspective - it's like she is controlled by arthur and he is controlled by elizabeth (and jacob is controlled by kinga) so interesting dynamic. Im still suspicious about jacob, why does he think someone who has half built a bomb would be able to build tech for green energy? The bomb isnt yet a prototype too so think theres more to his interest potentially