Four Minutes to Save a Life by Anna Stuart

Author:Anna Stuart [Stuart, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781409177678
Published: 2020-02-20T05:00:00+00:00

Number 80 Hope Street

Sausages

Bacon

Small beef joint

Potatoes

Frozen Yorkshire puddings

Battered cod

Oven chips

Mushy peas

Best bitter, 4 cans

Nail-tail Shiraz, 2 bottles

Greg’s phone beeped and he looked down to see yet another message from Turner’s telling him that his driver was held up and would be with him in the next twenty minutes. He checked the time – well past five o’clock already.

‘Bloody hell, Charlie,’ he muttered, ‘what are you up to out there?’

He’d only booked the later slot because Marcus had been delivering his new DJ this morning and he’d felt rather self-conscious about it. He’d looked up the cost of a bespoke suit on the company website and been stunned – it was more than his lift. Mind you, it made him look a hell of a lot better than the lift so perhaps it was worth it!

Marcus had certainly been very pleased. He’d brought a photographer with him and they’d spent for ever setting up a white screen and adjusting the lighting and capturing his ‘interesting shape’ from all angles. He’d felt quite the model! Marcus had gone off muttering about Esquire magazine and Greg had only just remembered to ask him to send copies through for his own website. This whole thing was becoming increasingly surreal but for now the only way to cope seemed to be to ride the PR wave and hope it didn’t send him crashing on to a stony shore.

To be honest, it was making him feel quite giddy with nerves. He’d ordered himself solid English food this week, the sort of stuff his mum had used to make, as if that might in some way root him, but it wouldn’t do that if Charlie didn’t turn up soon. He glanced to the DJ, hanging in the corner, raring to go. The awards were a week tomorrow. Next Wednesday someone from the production company was coming to do his ‘VT’. His parents had called him to say they were being interviewed for it and his sister’s flight from the States was booked for Friday. Rachel was staying a whole week and he was torn between longing to see her and dreading the weird new Greg she’d be presented with.

She’d seen his ‘interesting shape’ before, of course, but not since it had been buffed to such a slick shine. It had felt more honest when he’d been properly broken but, then again, he’d been a mean git back then and none of his poor family or friends had deserved that.

‘Hey – Greg, old lad. Good to see you.’ He could hear his friends’ voices now, all gruff and matey as they’d crowded around his hospital bed, bearing packs of pork scratchings and smuggled-in beer, as if the party could somehow continue as if nothing had happened.

They hadn’t got it when he’d refused to play along. But then, he hadn’t explained it very well, he knew. He hadn’t told them that even a sip or two of beer hit the myriad drugs in his veins like the strongest skunk and made his head spin and lose control of what was left of his body.

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