Best that money can buy

‘You done it yet?’ Al asked. He’d been thirty for a long time now and it was beginning to show around his mouth, which seemed to get thinner every time I saw him, and his lips were now pressed shut like a child-sized pair of scissors.

The coffee shop smelt  of warm home roasted beans that made your mouth water, with a potted plant screening us from other customer’s muted conversations and a smiling waitress, happy to serve, so new her shoes squeaked on lime marble tiles shot through with silver so that she seemed to float  as she went to get our order. Al loved all that kind of retro-coffee house shit. I’d have rather stayed in my house with my wife, but he hounded me to go out and see new places --although they were old places -- and to gain new experiences so that I could be more productive and better worker.

‘No,’ I admitted. ‘I’ve not done it yet.’

‘Fuck,’ he said, ‘I knew it. We’re consumers. That’s what we do. The world doesn’t owe us a living -- wisen up.’

The waitress brought our coffee, nipping balletically between us and placing each cup carefully on the teak surface in front of us and beamed a smile at Al, and then at me, bowing, a corkscrew of blond hair flipping and falling clean as sunflower over a perfectly proportioned actresses face, one whose name I couldn’t remember,  before slipping away.   

‘Fuck,’ Al sipped at the froth of his coffee. ‘What would you to do that?’

I blew on my latte the steamed milk whipped into concentric circles into which I stared, and smiled a little to show that I wasn’t a prude.   

‘Well?’ He was suddenly angry and I wondered if he’d found out.

‘I think she’s lovely, but I’m married. I don’t believe in having affairs.’

He leaned across and tapped me on the forehead. ‘You need to replace your logic gates. She’s a third integration chip that uses light and, I’ll tell you, she’ll do anything, anything.’ He groaned, squirming in his seat, curving his index finger to wave her across.

The waitress drifted across, stood in front of us, and bowed. ‘How can I serve you?’ she asked.  

Al’s hand crept up and nipped her bum. ‘We’ve paid for you. You’ll do anything, anything, right?’

‘I’ll do anything to please you sir, yes.’ She bowed.

‘Hear that?’ said Al. ‘She’ll do anything to please us. We don’t want to be bad citizens and not use what we’ve paid for.’

I sipped at my coffee. She looked down at me with eyes that were the colour of the inland sea near where I’d been born. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘This latte has grown cold. You think you could get me another?’

‘Of course.’ She picked up the cup and turned to go.  

I was distracted by Al shaking his head. ‘What the fuck was that?’ He grabbed at my arm. ‘You want to blow this deal?’ It must have occurred to him the ambiguity of what he’d said. He scratched at his forearm and looked a little shamefaced.

‘As I said, I’m married.’ I met his eyes. I’m sure he was recording everything, but he looked away.

‘You can’t be unfaithful with a non-human. That’s like admitting to your wife you're having an affair with the washing machine.’ He shook his head. ‘I really wonder about you sometimes.’

I looked round and she was at my shoulder. She smelt citrus clean and her hair had changed colour to the same shade of brunette as my wife’s. ‘Is there anything else?’ She leaned across, hair cascading across my face, warm fingers spreading across my shoulder to help her keep her balance, as she placed the cup down in front of me. Her tone had the same cadence and refined tone as Julia.  

I shook my head. ‘No, nothing.’ I smiled at her, as she bowed. ‘This is great.’ I took a sip and it was just sweet enough to also allow me to smile at my boss. ‘I’m a Christian you see, one of the old sect. We don’t believe all that messing about. We believe in family values and sharing our good fortune with those less fortunate.’ I’d finally outed myself.

He snorted. ‘We thought as much. It’s sick you know, thinking that there’s some kind of god up there that cares what you do with your fiddly bits. You’re good at calculations. Losers, like you, never win.  A smart guy. I’d have thought you’d have factored that in.’

I felt the room shrinking and changing, the coffee cup disappearing and the chill of the cell walls.    

http://unbound.co.uk/books/lily-poole