Tuesday, February 06, 2007

If Anything Does Happen I Suspect He Will Make Me Draw Up Blogging Guidelines

If Anything Does Happen I Suspect He Will Make Me Draw Up Blogging Guidelines

"I need to get it straight what you said - so I know how much damage limitation I need to do".

Dean takes my hand.

"It's ok".

I look at him.

"Go through what you said".

Dean looks at me, resigned to what is to come.

"I just said that Director Boy and me had been wondering how we could get the two of you together. I didn't mention your name but it was pretty obvious who I meant".

I take a deep breath.

"And what did he say?"

"He kind of put his head in his hands and said that he didn't want to talk about this".


"It wasn't helped by the fact that I couldn't look at him either; so I just said -"

It's now Dean's turn to take a deep breath -

"that we didn't have to talk about it but that I knew there was stuff in the way and he shouldn't get held up on that; if he wanted to act on it he should do but if he didn't he shouldn't but that I thought he should".

I look at him, inwardly dying a little.

"It was thirty seconds, maximum - like pulling off a plaster".

I've begun to make involuntary noises. In the middle of Leeds.

"This all came from me".

The opportunity to blame Dean appeases the thought of my life burning quickly in a (Health and Safety tested) controlled dustbin fire.

"Did you say anything else? Anything that made it sound like this might have come from me?"

There's a pause.

"I just said, hint, hint".

I eyeball Dean.

"Hint, hint?"

"That's all".

"Oh no".

I know for all my terror Dean's enjoying this a little too much.

"What made you do this?"

The only acceptable answer to this question is obviously something to do with armed gunmen, slow painful torture or imminent death.

"Because if I leave you two to it then nothing's going to happen".

"Well, maybe that's the right thing".

"I'm not going to sit back and watch you both miss something".

Dean's momentarily entirely serious. It takes the wind out of my sails somewhat.

"And why do you think we're missing something?"

"Lots of reasons, but the thing that clinched it was your play".

If there was an answer that I was expecting it certainly wasn't this.

"My play?". The realisation slows me down, forcing my voice to a more appropriate public conversation level.

"Yes, SSoB".

Suddenly it's starting to make sense.

"Because you think I wrote him before I met him".


"So let me get this straight, you did all this because of a fictional character. A fictional character who doesn't get the girl".

Surely this gives me the moral highground. I know the plot of SSoB inside out. I press on.

"He does not get Kate!".

It's triumphant. Final. Match point.

Still holding my hand Dean looks at me in a manner that is both strangely innocent and rather disconcerting.

"This time he might".

And for the first time I honestly don't know what to say.

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