Suzi Samwell and the perfect man

Suzi Samwell always drank a glass of wine before a job interview. Just one glass, a small one, but it was enough to help her relax, to think a bit more abstractly in her answers to questions.

 

Obviously she didn’t drink if the interview was at 8.30 in the morning, a few strong cups of coffee would make sure she was awake and focussed, but for an interview at 3.15. Suzi’s preferred method of preparation was to find a quiet corner of her local pub and go through her interview preparations over a late lunch of chicken salad and ciabatta with a glass of red wine. It was her lucky combo – she’d got her last three jobs with exactly the same preparation.

 

The only downside of doing your interview preparation in a pub was that sometimes some idiot would see a woman drinking alone and try and hit on her, which is why she loved the Red Lion, because it has booths that are virtually invisible to the rest of the pub. So Suzi was particularly surprised when a man appeared in the booth. He was an unusual man, over seven feet tall, dressed in full evening dress, complete with bow tie, and with a moustache from another century, not anyone she had ever seen in the pub before.

 

“I wonder if I might ask you a personal question?” he said, and without waiting for an answer he sat down at the seat opposite her.

 

“I’m sorry, no you can’t,” she said firmly. “I have a boyfriend, if that’s what you want to know, and I’m preparing for an interview, I don’t have time to talk.”

 

“It’s okay,” the man said, “I’ve stopped time.”

 

She stared blankly at him, contempt competing with confusion for control over her facial expression.

 

Suzi hoped that if she glared rudely enough and ignored him enough he would go away, but that didn’t work.

 

“You don’t recognise me, do you?” he said.

 

“No. I’ve never seen you before,” she said firmly.

“It’s me,” the man continued, undeterred. “The Conduit.”

 

“Okay, look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve no time. I have an interview to prepare for. Please just go away.”

 

The man moved not a jot.

 

“I’ve already explained that I’ve stopped time. We can talk for as long as we want.”

 

Suzi gave him a disbelieving look.

 

“You can check, look at your watch, the second hand has stopped, and listen, no noise, nothing happening.”

 

“The TV’s always silent in this pub,” she said, tapping her watch on the table because it had stopped, for no apparent reason.

“But the people are silent too.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s after lunch, it’s empty in here. You’re gonna have to do better than that I’m afraid.”

 

“But people were talking, you heard it, in the corner of your mind. The barman was discussing the budget with a customer, and there were two office workers talking about a manager with an alcohol problem.”

 

For some reason Suzi couldn’t bring herself to ignore the man, or to call for the landlord to throw him out. He was right, she noticed, it was unusually quiet. “Yeah, I did sort of hear,” she realised.  “But so what, they’ve just stopped talking.”

 

“Really? Would you like me to show you?” Against her better judgement Suzi found herself following the man out of the booth. The TV screen, she noticed immediately, it was on freeze frame, an image of a tank going nowhere. But the Conduit was pointing her towards two men sat round a table, both static, frozen, not moving, one of them had his mouth open as if to speak, but was totally silent and still.

 

“There, the office workers discussing their alcoholic boss. You’ll notice the two empty wine bottles on their table.”

 

“What’s wrong with them? Are they dead?”

 

“No, no, no,” The Conduit said, “I’ve already explained, I’ve stopped time?”

 

“But how? How could you possibly stop time?”

 

“Well, technically we’re merely in a time-envelope, parallel to the world they’re in, but distinct from it. There, are you convinced? We should go back to your booth where we can talk in comfort. You might need your glass of wine.”

 

“Okay, I believe we’re in time envelope,” Suzi said. “I won’t even ask how. But why? What do you want from me?”

 

“I’ve got rather a personal question for you?”

 

“Okay,” she said, as they sat back down in the booth, “do your worst.”

 

“Would you be willing to marry the perfect man?”

 

“I told you,” Suzi said, “I’m engaged.”

 

“Yes, and that was a lie Miss Shamwell. I know more about you than you realise. More about you, perhaps, than you know about yourself. It was me who gave you your name, who helped you choose your identity.”

 

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I told you. I’m The Conduit.”

 

“The Conduit?”

 

“I am the conduit between your world and this world. Which is why I am able to place you in a time envelope.”

 

“Between my world and this world? But this is my world.”

“Ah, yes, but you forget everything about your home world when you take human form. You are in fact from another world, and that’s why I’m here.  There is a man who is planning to come across from your home world who is planning to arrive here in the form of an adult human, and he would like to move straight into a relationship.”

 

“An arranged marriage?”

 

“No, no, no. Well, yes, but not in the way you mean, arranged, but perfectly arranged. You see, as The Conduit I can shape his human form, his age, his looks, even his character. I can control what job he has, how wealthy he is, I can produce the perfect partner to you precise specification, I’d ensure perfect sex and even the perfect cuddle afterwards.”

 

“Okay, you’re offering me the perfect man, perfect sex, as much money as I can conceive off – and the catch is?”

 

“The gentleman is keen to have children, so you must agree to breed immediately. I will see to it that that is a success.”

 

“You will? You can ensure a successful pregnancy?”

 

“Of course. I am The Conduit. Placing one little sperm where it needs to go is nothing compared to what I’ve been asked to do in my time.”

 

“Well, it sounds good, but too good. I just don’t know …” Suzi started to say, but was interrupted.

“Is this guy bothering you?”

 

A second man entered the booth. The Conduit, for the first time, looked flummoxed.

“Who are you?” Suzi asked.

“Oh, just a friend of The Conduit’s. Would you rather he came back another time? Only he can be a bit intense.”

 

“How are you here?” The Conduit asked.

 

“Oh, I was sitting in the other bar, saw you arrive and popped over to say hello.”

 

“I mean how are you here with us? We’re in a time envelope.”

 

“Oh, I’m a surgeon, I just snip through envelopes. Maybe I’ve spent enough time with you in time envelopes that I can pass through them.”

 

“Interesting. I’ve not encountered that before,” The Conduit said, “you might be right. I shall have to ask my elephant, he knows more about these things.”

 

Watching the two men bicker, Suzi felt she’d been woken from spell. The talk of the perfect man, which seconds ago had sounded enticing and exciting, suddenly felt creepy.

 

“Maybe you should go,” she said to The Conduit. “I need time to think.”

 

“Very well, but think hard. I’m offering you the perfect man: perfect sex, as much wealth as you could ever wish for and your every fantasy fulfilled. You could even have a cottage overlooking the Dorset coast.”

 

“A cottage in Dorset? Have you been reading my mind? How dare you! Get out now!”

 

“I shall return shortly and will expect an answer. Have a successful interview Ms Shamwell.” And with that The Conduit was gone.

 

Suzi suddenly felt embarrassed, the intimacy of her private thoughts being exposed to a perfect stranger.

 

The man, however, seemed to anticipate her embarrassment.

 

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said, “I’d have put great sex at the top of the list for my perfect woman. Not sure what’s so great about Dorset though.”

 

He extended his hand.

 

“Jeremy Truscott,” he said.

 

“Suzi Shamwell,” she said, automatically. “How much did you hear?”

 

“All of it, I’m afraid. I followed The Conduit as soon as I saw him. I didn’t intend to spy on you, I just wanted to know what he was up to.”

 

“You know The Conduit?”

 

“Only about as well as you do. I’d never come across him until a few weeks ago, when he suddenly appeared out of nowhere when I was on the toilet, and introduced me to a woman who claimed to be my mother.”

 

“So you’re from another world too?”

 

“Apparently so.”

 

“Do you believe him?”

 

“Well, there seems to be a truth to it. He can stop time, I’ve seen him push an elephant into a wardrobe, but do I believe him? Well, I certainly don’t trust him, if that’s what you mean. Part of what he’s telling us may well be true, we might even be from another world, but there’s a lot more going on than he’s telling us.”

 

There was a moment of awkward silence before the man spoke again.

 

“Anyway, I think you need to phone and cancel your interview.”

 

“Cancel my interview?”

 

“Things are happening and we need to talk.”

 

“But we’re in a time envelope. We can talk all we want.”

 

“No we’re not, we must have left the envelope when The Conduit left us. Listen.”

 

Suzi listened. The man, Jeremy, was right. The background conversations were back, the barman was talking about the budget, the drunken office workers were still talking about their alcoholic boss.

 

“But I can’t miss my interview. It’s important.”

 

“Normally I’d agree with you, but when a complete stranger appears out of nowhere and asks you to marry the perfect man, then there’s something pretty serious going on that you need to talk about. And, unfortunately for you, I’m the only other person on Earth you can talk about it to.”

 

“Surely it can wait …”

 

“Can it? I get the feeling that things are happening quickly for a reason. I go a lifetime without ever meeting this Conduit chap, then I see him four times in under a month. I suspect that he’ll be back expecting an answer in next to no time, and we need to be ready for him.”

 

This is my lucky booth, thought Suzi, I’m drinking my lucky wine, I’ve had my lucky chicken salad and ciabatta, I’m sure to get that job. After all, it’s a good day, she’s already been offered the perfect man, perfect sex for life and a cottage by the Dorset coast.

 

Shit!

 

He was right. This was too much. She picked up the phone and spoke to the woman she was due to meet, making up an excuse about traffic and being stuck in the middle of nowhere. If she was lucky they wouldn’t be able to recruit today and they’d reschedule.

 

“Right,” said the man when she’d finished, “are you ready to go?”

“Go? Go where?”

 

“We’re going to go for an elephant ride.”