Malcolm and Juliet Read Free Page A

Philippines, it is as if collectively we are losing the will to carry on. I watch a lot of television. I just hope nobody is using it to tell me lies. In the last year alone I have watched over one thousand five hundred hours of television commercials: light bulbs that last longer, stomachs that look flatter, microwave dinners that almost taste like food, so long as you eat them with the lights off and don’t have to worry about your waistline. It shows how far we’ve come I suppose.
    ‘But lately I’ve been wondering about that. I’ve been wondering whether I might consider swapping it all—the bottled water in the fridge, the junk mail in the letterbox, the television inside my head—for a single primitive night, in front of a simple primitive fire, with a girl who would hold me.’
    ‘Hi ya.’ Camille, Malcolm’s mum, and his second-best friend in the world after Juliet, stood at the doorway. She was dressed for work. The dark blue of her nursing uniform looked almost black against her short platinum hair. ‘I’m off now. There’s some meat thawing in the fridge. That sounded good by the way.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘I thought so.’
    ‘You’re hardly impartial.’
    ‘Nothing’s impartial Malcolm. It’s what makes life so much fun.’
    ‘Science is,’ Malcolm replied.
    ‘Science is what witchcraft dresses up as, when out in public,’ Camille told him, and he would have argued but he knew she was only teasing. It was Camille who had bought him his first chemistry set and one summer camped out on the lawn with him for a whole week while they mapped the southern skies.
    Frank, Malcolm’s dad, was much more of a worry. He was a travelling salesperson for a herbal remedies company and a fervent believer in the proposition that rational thought would only divert humankind from its search for truth. Much as Malcolm loved him, he despaired at his lack of faith in the scientific method, and it was probably for the best that Frank was often away on business.
    ‘You might need to record that again by the way, I think I might have been in-shot in the mirror. Sorry. See you later then. You going out?’
    ‘Yeah, there’s a party Juliet told me about. She’s not going but she got me an invite. I might take the camera and do some interviews.’
    ‘Okay. Take a front door key then.’

Party
    The front door was open and the sounds of shouting mixed with music as it spilled out on to the street. No sooner had Brian entered the hallway than a beer was thrust into his grateful hand.
    ‘Bri mate!’ someone shouted. Even the bass vibrating along the walls seemed to be welcoming him. Brian was good-looking and he was sixteen. Like his father, and his father before him had once done, Brian stood at the brink. Years of good times lay ahead, years free of guilt and empty of responsibility. He was just the man to enjoy them. Not that he was entirely without a sense of social obligation. He was after all quite prepared to take Kevin along for the ride. Kevin, who now stood half a step behind him. Poor Kevin, who really had no idea, who would be quite lost without Brian there to lead him.
    ‘There you go Kev boy, have a cool one.’
    ‘Don’t mind if I do. Cheers mate.’
    ‘Yep, aaaah. Feeling better already. Right, follow me lad, look and learn.’
    ‘Where are we going?’
    ‘Off to find the good hostess. You know, she could have me tonight, if she’s lucky.’
    ‘Yeah,’ and Kevin found it hard not to resent her for that fact.
    ‘There she is Kev. Look at her. Thing of beauty wouldn’t you say?’
    Kevin looked. Charlotte was tall, mainly due to the length of her legs. Her blonde hair was tied back, revealing a small face that caused her normal-length nose to appear slightly long. Her smile was white and symmetrical and her eyes were able to flirt in two different directions simultaneously. Not bad, Kevin had to agree, for a girl. Not a patch on you though Bri, he would have said, if it wasn’t for his