The Darlings by Angela Jackson

The Darlings by Angela Jackson

Author:Angela Jackson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Eye Books
Published: 2021-03-22T14:40:39+00:00


Chapter 39

Rule number one in the comedian’s handbook: If you’re not on top form on stage, if you kick over a glass, leave your flies slightly undone, murder a punchline, and you’re in any way neurotic, it’s best to avoid social media for a day or so.

Hardly anybody had mentioned him but the most mortifying aspect of it was that Ava had responded to those who had. Rule number two is: Don’t let your fifteen-year-old sister-in-law handle your hecklers.

He rang her.

‘Ava, hi.’

She rushed straight in: ‘Mark, I know someone who was there last night, someone from the maths club, and he said you were OK, so, you know, those people on Twitter are just haters. So, anyway, we’re going to try and get you to come and do something at our prom. We’ve started a petition. I said you’d write some material about our teachers and stuff. There’s a magician and a covers band, but you’d be the only comedian.’

Don West’s staff had briefed him on finer details of the Twitter fallout.

‘Here he is: our very own Jimmy Carr!’

Mark walked directly to his desk and switched on his computer.

‘Come on, then, let’s hear a joke.’

The sales staff started braying. He handled it good-naturedly, initially, pretending to clutch his ribs laughing, smirking at the funnier remarks. It went on for a while, the jockeying and squeals. Then, someone threw a scrunched-up KitKat wrapper. It hit him in the face. There may have been a nanosecond of silence before everyone roared with laughter. A rush of adrenaline surged through him and, before he knew what he was doing, he ran at them all.

‘You’re all pointless twats, the lot of you! Pointless, pointless twats.’

They fell silent.

He strode right up to Don, nose to nose, and said: ‘Fucking no marks.’

* * *

At the disciplinary meeting, Mark glazed over while some human resources bod read aloud from a densely typed sheet, and rotated east-west-east in her swivel chair.

He allowed himself a brief fantasy in which he threw the swivel chair out of the window.

‘An apology would be appropriate under the circumstances. Don is very upset and offended at such language being used in the department, and he’d also like your personal assurance that it will never happen again.’

Mark laughed.

‘I want to remind you, Mark, a formal warning is a very serious matter.’

She was maybe late-twenties. Wedding ring. Steady. In five years’ time, she’d probably be senior management.

‘Don is happy for this to be taken no further, as long as you are willing to apologise to him face-to-face and give him your word that this won’t happen again.’

* * *

‘You’re gonna have to do it.’

‘Sade, the man’s a…’ He pushed his dinner away.

‘I know,’ she said, pushing the plate back towards him.

You’re bigger than this. Tell them there’s no way you’re apologising to this knobhead. Speak to Eddie. See if he can get you more regular gigs. See you tomoz. Love you. R xxx

‘Bite the bullet,’ said Dean.

* * *

‘Are you going to get fired?’

Ava had been asked to drop off an excess of strawberries and courgettes.



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