Part the forth
Jen returns to her favourite comfy chair in the corner of the room, threadbare and worn but comfortable nonetheless. Bonky and Mel sit on the equally ragged sofa opposite. Bonky sits, and thinks he can hear something squeaking. Mel looks slightly worried but sits down gingerly. Jen smiles at them over her coffee.
“So, team, how’s the job going?”
Mel snorts slightly and Bonky tries a nonchalant whistle. His lips don’t quite meet so it’s an uphill struggle, but he gives it his best shot. “Jacinta seems too much in the first flush of lust to be aware of any... ulterior motives her... lover may have in relation to the squad. I think it about time that we severed connections with Blake Macdonald once and for all.”
This outburst takes Jen a little by surprise, and she returns to her coffee for a moment. Mel, too seems taken aback by the depth of her feeling and remains quiet. Bonky feels the need to break the silence.
“I’m tired of sewers. I don’t like Blake. Jacinta seems sad.”
The veracity of these statements is not lost on the two women, who exchange a glance and a smile.
“What’s your contract with this guy like?” asks Jen “Surely you’re not tied to him that strongly, right?”
Mel grimaces and outlines a complex scenario of ownership of broadcast rights, names, images and trademarks. “Basically, he owns the squad. Whilst we work together, we work under him. Well, for the next six months anyway, which quite frankly might as well be the next six years.” She puts the mug down, rubs her eyes briefly. It’s been a long day, and its only 11.30. “ I want out, Jen. Some of the guys I was at Meny with are setting up on their own and they’ve asked if I want to... Well lets just say they have a plan that involves more than just sewer detail twenty four seven.”Whilst his friends chat, Bonky surveys the carnage around him. Jen’s flat is always interestingly full of, well, stuff, and Bonky has to watch where he puts his feet in order not to stomp the electronica that Jen collects into tiny pieces. On the corner of the couch he’s sitting on there is a scale model of a SLA APC that has a small aerial coming out of the back. Bonky moves to pick it up – he’s always wanted an APC to ride in – but before he can pick it up it drives off the arm of the chair and lands on the floor before driving over to Jen and trying to hide underneath her recliner. The tiny car’s prospects for evasion are decreased, however, by the large pile of dead radio that Jen is using instead of one leg of the chair, so it changes tack and veers back towards the kitchen, dodging piles of underwear, old magazines and discarded tools.
Bonky meanwhile, faithfully tracks the car’s movements, playfully giving it a chance and letting it get to the doorway before pouncing. He jumps a good 2 metres, from where Jen is sitting to where the APC has paused, weighing up its chances of survival in a much smaller enclosed space. “Bonky!” Jen cautions, so he lands with his feet either side of the model rather than on top of it and sportingly flips it over onto its back instead. The now stranded car makes some pitiful electronic noises and waggles its wheels disconsolately. Bonky grins (he doesn't have much choice) and heads to the coffee maker for a refill.
Mel puts down the remote control she had been toying with and smiles, briefly, looking at nothing in particular. Jen takes the opportunity to look at her Ebon friend, gauging the lines that now seem etched on Mel’s face. Bonky sometimes tells her that Mel is sad: Jen finds this easy to believe but harder to do anything about. As does Bonky. Who now returns from the kitchen with another steaming cup of coffee, knocking over his previous mug and sending the remaining contents spilling over the floor, a patchwork of similar stains. Jen sighs almost inaudibly and something small and mechanical skitters out from under the sofa and starts mopping up the mess. Mel and Bonky look on, impressed. Jen catches their glances and blushes, slightly. “Oh, you know, I got bored at the weekend and started fiddling with some bits and pieces, you know?” The small robot whizzes back into the kitchen, barging the stranded APC out of the way. The APC beeps a tiny horn in powerless frustration. Bonky thinks he can hear the cleaner laugh, tinnily.
“You’re bored a lot, Jen,” he says, drinking.
Jen looks into the bottom of her cup, bites her lip, says nothing.
Comments to e l l i o t