Bit of a Laugh
34: Live from Scotland... sort of
Hello friends!
This week on The FLARE is something a bit more light-hearted. This three-part short originally appeared in The Links Substack, which was a weekly soap opera detailing the lives of Edinburgh1 residents of The Links apartments. While The Links Substack no longer exists, I wanted to post the piece here for you to enjoy.
This was one of my early collaborations in 2021 and really got me thinking about writing comedy or dramas for tv. In real life, I’ve always been a jokester, but that’s not easy to translate onto a page if that’s not your inclination. It’s not easy. I originally outlined 8 minisodes for our main character Raymond and I may go back to it at some point. Hopefully it’s a genre I can continue exploring.
Also, make sure you read this in a British accent.
1.
One day I’ll be famous, Raymond thought. He shifted about excitedly in the armchair of a sparsely furnished living room on the first floor. The talent programme was just starting with the familiar upbeat theme tune he gleefully hummed as he tapped his fingers on the armrests. The presenter’s pasted on smile flashed on the screen as he introduced the judges.
It was his favourite time of night and there were no interruptions. Raymond had told his wife he was on business about 2 hours north of their small town at a fake company he continued building stories about. But it was really to get away from everyone, including her. Sometimes he felt guilty for conjuring up this imaginary world of high pressure sales meetings and late night financial report drafting but there was nothing like being alone in his own space.
During the commercial break, he scurried to the kitchen to peel some hard boiled eggs that were cooling in a bowl of water. Crack, crack, crack… The show started back up, just as he grabbed the salt shaker. His favourites were Ciara, a young hopeful with a deep, rich voice and Damien, a contemporary dancer.
In the middle of a routine, there was a loud knock at the door. Raymond ignored it. Wrong flat, friend. He took a bite of the egg and watched Damien writhe and glide to a classical song. The knock came harder and more insistent. Annoyed the caller would never go away, Raymond went to the door and pulled it open with the chain still attached.
“Raymond. We have to talk.”
He hurriedly opened the door and let the man in. Tom shook beaded raindrops from his coat and eyed Raymond sternly.
“We have a problem.”
The tv was still blaring and Tom motioned for him to turn it off.
“What is it?”
“It’s your wife. She’s on her way here.”
Raymond’s eyes bulged as he paced in circles.
“How? Who the hell told her?!”
“I don’t know. I tried making up some nonsense about a new client, some loose ends, and she said she wanted to surprise you, help you ‘unwind’. ”
Raymond groaned loudly. He would have to act fast.
“How about going over your place? Tell her we’re on a big project?”
Tom laughed. “I’m not getting mixed up in your bullshit.”
“Tom, you literally started this bullshit with me. You used to clock in for me when I was hung over or tell the boss I had chronic diarrhea so I could sneak off for dates.”
“Point taken.”
“What are we going to do?”
“You are going to put some pants on. I may or may not have a plan.”
Tom slowly cracked a smile and the men laughed. “Shit, was Damien performing?”
“Yeah, he was doing an excellent job too.”
“Let’s see if we can catch the replay.”
2.
“Tom, thanks for meeting me.” Mary came up the stairs with a wide smile.
“The weather’s been wicked these past few days. Couldn’t let you arrive looking like a sopping sponge.”
“Where’s Raymond?”
“Oh, he’s with that new client I told you about. There’s loose ends to tie up with the latest deal. Very delicate negotiation.”
“Oohh…”
“So we’ll head to a nearby cafe and get you a cup of tea.”
“I’d like that, thanks.”
Tom made sure to keep a step ahead of Mary, both to keep an eye out but also to hide his clenched jaw. Raymond was always the better actor. They rounded the corner and headed toward a spot called Siegler’s where he was almost sure no one knew Raymond.
“This is cozy.”
“Yup. We come often enough but don’t stay long. Lots to do!” Tom smiled mechanically.
Tom agreed to play tour guide while Raymond stayed out of sight long enough for Mary to lose interest in finding him. He’d show her around town to the nicest spots before politely ushering her back to the bus depot. A best friend’s job was strenuous business.
They made idle conversation about the weather and cellular carrier conspiracies when Tom’s own mobile phone buzzed loudly as a text came through.
Tom was definitely the better liar.
Raymond and Tom worked at a management company aiding businesses with services from accounting to public relations. Tanner Development, Inc. had recently opened a small Edinburgh office, the perfect cover for weekend getaways to the Links. Most of their clients, however, still came from contracts much farther south. Raymond would agree to mind the office some weekends where he spent his days folding paper planes and planning his rise to stardom.
“We should get going. I want to show this very cool local museum. Raymond will be along for dinner and probably be grumpy. Get a pastry to go. He’ll love it.”
Mary beamed and scurried to the counter for an almond croissant.
While Tom waited outside, Raymond came trudging down the avenue.
“Ridiculous! Now he wants to go to a place down the road and the only way is passed you!” Raymond was beginning to question his elaborate deception.
“Raymond, she’s coming. Get behind the hedge.”
Raymond artfully tumbled behind the bushes with his bag striking him on the head.
“Lean closer. I don’t have enough coverage,” he whispered loudly.
“You’re fine! Crouch down, you big baby.”
“You’re supposed to be hiding me!”
“No one can hide those broad shoulders!”
“It’s hereditary!”
Just then, Mary emerged from the cafe and tousled her waves to one side. She approached Tom and took his arm. “Now, where is that museum?”
“It’s lovely. Old looms and sewing machines from a shirt factory that was closed in 1936…”
“Oooohhh…
The pair disappeared out of sight as Raymond gathered himself just in time for his boss to accompany him for a meeting with a potential client. He was actually going to work that weekend after all.
3.
Raymond returned to his flat and slumped into his armchair exhausted. His boss actually did have a new client and urgent business, only Raymond didn’t realize he’d actually be working. A white lie materialized… perfect, he thought. The business had started expanding and his foothold in the area office meant he was the first to be called for potential clients. His imaginary consultancy at Aimes & Farthing Textiles would soon evaporate. With Tanner ramping up operations, it wouldn’t be long before his wife would be coming regularly. His haven was crumbling.
He sat staring at the blank tv screen and thought of Mary. Why do I keep hiding from her? It was a question of aimless wandering. He was still in search of a passion, not just work. Raymond had built a career over 10 years and was good at what he did. There was even the potential for advancement, but something stalled him. This isn’t it, he kept thinking. The hesitance drove him out of the house early some mornings on long walks alone. He could not dislodge the discomfort and thought weekends away, without distraction and immersed in his own world, would be the cure.
A knock jarred him from his pensiveness.
“It’s meee…”, a wailing voice called.
He opened the door to Tom who entered and went straight to the kitchen for a drink. He returned with a glass of water and his signature stern look. “You need to do something.”
“Like what? The cover is working. I just got a new client so now I have to come here.”
“You should talk to Mary. She’s a sweetheart and wants you to be happy.”
“I can’t. She’ll hate me.”
“She’ll hate you more if you don’t.”
The weight of feeling lost sunk Raymond deeper into the armchair. Tom sat beside him on the floor, letting the silence settle between them. Raymond sank deeper still in thought, considering what he really wanted and if pining for a place on a talent show was really the answer to his disillusionment. He couldn’t help but fantasize about his body grooving or fingers flying across piano keys to a riotous audience. The dream resurfaced over and over, and he couldn’t let it go. It had to mean something. There had to be some element of truth, some morsel of himself trapped between dance steps.
“You know, I always think of the early days when I used to call off work for nonsense. I was such a slacker. Not sure I’ve ever made the right choices,” Raymond said.
“You weren’t a slacker, you just wanted different things. We live in a world where we can’t all have the same freedom to pursue a passion or be reckless. The key might be to use the boring work to fund your real life, the real you.” Tom patted Raymond on the thigh and turned on the tv to watch the next talent show episode.
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Please excuse the inconsistency in British and American terms. I’m pulling this from a draft.
I really enjoyed this! I could picture the whole thing but kept expecting it to take some weird Hitchcockian turn. Which I would have STILL enjoyed!