Dumped, Actually(85)

Erica and I look at each other for another couple of moments, both trying to process what’s just happened, and more to the point, what’s currently happening.

Because something is definitely happening, let me tell you that. I’m finding it extremely hard to stop looking into those deep green eyes of hers.

I can feel a spark of electricity moving between us . . . though that may just be static from the parachute silk.

Then Erica’s phone starts to ring, breaking the tension.

‘I’d . . . I’d better get that,’ she says as I continue to stare down at her, my breath coming in short gasps.

‘Okay,’ I say, still not moving. Being this close to Erica is making my heart beat faster than it did when I jumped out of the plane, to be honest.

‘Hello,’ she says into her phone, still staring right into my eyes. From the periphery of my vision, I can see people grabbing at the parachute silk to pull it off.

Erica listens for a few moments to the person on the other end of the phone, before her face darkens considerably. ‘He’s doing what?’ she spits in the phone. ‘Today? Without me there?!’

‘What’s going on?’ I ask her as Ted pulls off the chute material.

Erica looks livid. ‘The bastard’s making a play, Ollie. He’s trying to screw me completely!’

And with that, she pushes me off, and swiftly climbs back to her feet. There are a few grass stains on her grey pantsuit, but other than that, I don’t appear to have done her any harm. They don’t come much tougher than Erica Hilton.

I get up as well, yanking the last of the parachute from off one shoulder. ‘Who are you talking about, Erica?’

‘Benedict! That son of a bitch has called an extraordinary general meeting of the ForeTech board of directors today!’

‘Jesus! Why?’ This is a stupid question. There’s a very obvious reason why.

‘Because he knows I’m here, Ollie! He’s going to try and convince the rest of the eleven that they should shut Actual Life down once and for all, and I won’t be there to stop it!’

‘But why would he?’ I implore. ‘Everything’s going so well!’

To underline this, I gesture at the crowd that surrounds us. If I can pull a thousand random strangers along to a parachute jump on a September morning, with only twenty-four hours’ notice, things must be alright, surely?

Erica shakes her head. ‘None of this matters, Ollie. He wants Actual Life to go under, no matter what we do. And even though you’ve done such a good job in the past few months, Benedict will have something up his bloody sleeve to ruin us. I know he will!’ She fishes in her jacket pocket, pulling out her car keys. ‘Look, I have to go. I have to stop this. I’ll see you later.’

‘I’m coming with you,’ I tell her.

Oh my.

Did you hear that?

There was a commanding tone to my voice there. Yes. Very definitely.

I sounded confident back up in the air a few minutes ago, and was happy with that. I never thought for one moment I could ever actually do commanding!

‘No. I can handle this, Ollie,’ Erica replies. ‘You stay here with everyone. They’ll want to talk to you about the jump, and you need to speak to them for the story. Get the colour.’

I clench my jaw. ‘Fuck the story,’ I reply, in a deep, resonant tone.

Okay, this is starting to make me a bit light-headed now. I’d better stop, before I faint.

Erica looks taken aback. Then she blinks a couple of times. ‘Alright, Ollie. Come with me, then. If I drive fast enough, we should be able to reach the city in less than an hour. Prendergast says the meeting begins at twelve. We might make it in time.’

‘Right. Sounds good to me. Who the hell’s Prendergast?’

‘Alan Prendergast. One of the other members of the board, and about the only one I trust. Come on! We have to go!’

Erica turns and starts to run towards her grey BMW, which is parked a good hundred yards away from where we’re standing. I take off after her.

‘Sorry, folks! Something very important has come up!’ I shout at the crowd as I rush by.

They all look pretty stunned. They came to see a parachute jump, but they’ve also got an impromptu bit of street theatre (or grass theatre, if we’re being accurate) in the bargain.

Sadly, they’re not going to get to see the ending of this particular show, because it’s going to take place in a high-rise office block, up in the city. Shame, really, it promises to be a barnstormer. I’d better make sure I do a good write-up of it, whatever happens.

‘Ollie! Ollie!’ Ted calls after me as I hurry to keep up with Erica. ‘I need my jumpsuit back!’

Oh bugger. I’d forgotten about this stupid thing.

I whip off the helmet and throw it at him. ‘Here you go! I’ll bring the suit back later, I promise!’

‘Er . . . okay!’ he shouts, a little unsure of himself.

Now, that’s got to be something worthy of note. In a hectic situation where two men are involved, and one is unsure of himself – for the first time ever, it’s not bloody me!

I have purpose! I have drive! I have determination!

. . . I have to get this stupid yellow jumpsuit off as soon as I get in the car. There’s no way I want to face Benedict Montifore looking like I’ve just been imported in a fruit crate from the Caribbean.