Chapter 8

Andrew threw himself back into his work when he returned to West Berlin. Because it was after lunch when he returned and got started, he stayed late. Once the office was quiet Andrew switched on the computer that he had fixed. Peter Carlisle had brought it through to the file room he was working in the previous week. As he had started examining it he had had a flashback to the first job at Julian’s dad’s office. It took him several hours to work through all the potential issues. But something was not adding up. Andrew could see why this computer would frustrate people. It took him opening the case to find that there was a loose connection between one of the internal boards and the port through the outside of the case. He even found the tiny screw that had come detached. The next day he had showed Carlisle the issue and he had procured a micro-head screwdriver that allowed the internal connection to be re-secured. With that done the computer worked perfectly. But Carlisle did not remove it back to where it had been previously. It was left in the overflow file room where Andrew was working. So it was there for him to use if he wanted.

Swimming the next morning Andrew thought about being stuck there in West Berlin. He wasn’t out of balance but it did cast a pall over him, even after the fun weekend in Edinburgh. He realised it was the difficulty of communication that was driving a lot of it. It was all but impossible to get hold of anyone and, even worse, to arrange anything. He had no idea if Suzanne had got his message and was unsure what to do with his next four days off. If he went to London he would end up calling Ara. And although it would be great to spend bonus time with her, Andrew also knew he was horny as shit. Two or three times a week for nine months to suddenly going cold turkey? Andrew wanted to see Ara but wanted to get laid more. While it was true he also felt as shallow as a puddle. He had dismissed anyone from West Berlin, but that was as much because of his shy nature as anything else. It made him think back to the four school teachers from Cyprus the previous year. It brought home the whole ‘anything goes on holiday’ mentality. A year later in West Berlin and he had no idea how to recreate the scenario. On top of that there was the security aspect of approaching any woman. The Soviets were always trying to trap servicemen, and for the purposes of the summer Andrew was a serviceman, and it seemed fraught with pitfalls, on top of actually chatting up a woman. The job still seemed to keep him isolated. So the tiles were being re-grouted morning or night but he wanted something better.

Which left him with the job. Andrew was working with BRIXMIS but had been foisted on them with no notice, and they were having him play round the edges of their work. He did not work in the main area but was stuck in a file room, on his own the whole time. Where he had originally being assigned had hung him out to dry and he would still be sitting in reception if they had their way. So he was stuck in West Berlin, abandoned like a bastard, redheaded stepchild. Which made him question why he was thinking about how AIMS would be useful for them? Other than he was a keener and didn’t know when to just let things be, Andrew couldn’t explain it. He thought about it on and off while working that Thursday and Friday. The best he could think of was that he wanted to demonstrate his intelligence to people who worked in Intelligence, or at least his aptitude for intelligence work. He thought long and hard about installing AIMS and inputting some of the files to demonstrate the benefits to the organisation. Lots of thinking but no doing.

Friday night Andrew finally stopped being the saddest 21 year old in West Berlin and headed into the city. Other than there being more soldiers around, not excessively but still noticeably, it was no different than a night out in London. He followed the crowds, followed the noise, and ended up in a small club listening to a not very good cover band. It was good to just be around other people. The music, as at all these places, was too loud so trying to talk was pointless. That suited him perfectly. When he left the club the streets were busier with more drunks, or at least more loud drunks. There were lots of police about, both civilian and military, and although he saw several scuffles he got back to his room without incident.

Andrew had sent three magazines to Elspeth, marking the envelope holiday brochures. There had been an updated issue of ‘Pummelig Damen’ and the two other publications which featured larger women. He nearly didn’t send one of those two as it was almost completely hard-core. But he ended up including it in the package. Assuming that they weren’t intercepted by Customs then she and Donnie had plenty of examples to consider. And it was thinking about photographing Elspeth, or doing another set with Maggie, that kept the worst of his pouting at bay.

He worked both days of the weekend just sorting out the files as he had been doing for the previous three weeks. But as he was checking the files it was pretty clear to him that AIMS would be useful. So in the end Andrew went ‘fuck it’ and installed the software on the computer he had fixed. In the evenings of both days he re-familiarised himself with the software and started some initial data entry. Other than some test data, this was the first time Andrew had ever used the AIMS software, and was pleased that it seemed straightforward. They had created AIMS with the key selling feature of control. It was not going to replace the thick files and the updated reports that he was sorting and updating. But it would allow someone to control the files. Twice he had noticed a notation on different reports saying that this was an unscheduled visit as it was overdue. There were several sites, covering lots of industries, that were only sporadically being checked. Maybe they knew this and there were other priorities but the process did not appear to be well controlled. AIMS had a specific report for when an asset had last been verified so places that were overdue would be easy to spot. So Andrew followed that pattern all week, doing his job during the day and then updating the AIMS computer file in the evening. Even without the evening data entry he would have completed his hours by Thursday lunchtime so he was going to get the afternoon plane again rather than wait for the Friday morning. Andrew also said nothing about what he was doing, he thought that showing Peter Carlisle could wait until his return. He did not want to lose the chance of the extended weekend because Carlisle was pissed off. So other than a night out listening to a mediocre band Andrew had worked for the whole 10 days. He really needed to get a life.

On the spur of the moment when Andrew got to Tegel Airport he decided to go to Paris. There was space on the Air France flight to Paris and so he got his British Airways ticket refunded and headed to Paris. He needed to shake himself out of his funk. Manon answered her phone when he called from the airport and agreed that she and Phillippe would meet him for dinner.

“You were lucky to catch us Andrew. Tomorrow is our last day for a month. We are finally off on our honeymoon.”

They had been married in early April.

“Where are you going?”

“Two weeks in the Caribbean and then two weeks at the family cottage in Aquitaine. We fly to Guadeloupe on Saturday morning.”

“It sounds very idyllic, relaxing.”

“We are both looking forward to it. What about you? Why are you here in Paris unannounced?”

“I am working out of town again and am bored and isolated with the job. I was in a bit of a funk so I decided to come here rather than back to London. Spur of the moment.”

“Is your job that bad? Cyprus sounded a lot of fun last year. Where are you this year that it is so bad?”

“That is part of the problem, I am not allowed to talk about it. I am isolated and working on my own a lot and I needed to shake it up. I was walking through the terminal and saw the Air France desk and just walked over right then. No planning, nothing. Fortunately the Monsart had a room for me, I must come here too often if I am greeted by name when I check in.”

Dinner came and they chatted while they ate. They were still slaves to the last train so didn’t linger. Phillippe was a really nice bloke and he and Andrew got on well in a very general way. But he never talked about his job and Andrew never talked about his, so they got to hear about Manon’s a lot.

“Are you going to come by the office tomorrow?”

“I had not planned to. Why?”

“Just to say hi to everybody. It might make sense because we can chat about September and talk for a little while.”

He shrugged.

“Sure, why not. How about 11.00 and then we can go for lunch afterwards?”

“Perfect. See you then.”

Walking back to the hotel Andrew heard something he had not heard for several years, a double bass. There was a jazz trio in a small bar, piano, bass and an older lady with a very sexy, throaty voice. He had never really listened to jazz but sat and wiled away an hour or so, just listening to the three of them. The double bass is an odd instrument, it’s so physically big that you can’t miss it, yet it is very rarely musically prominent. With just the three of them it was integral to the music and so much more to the fore than he had ever seen before. Just coming to Paris had relaxed him, listening to jazz on a summer’s evening.

After his usual long run several times round the Tuileries Andrew walked into the Hermès store at 10.55. That it should seem so familiar struck him as funny but it was probably the store he had been in more than any other over the last couple of years. He stopped and thought; it was probably the store he had been in the most in his entire life. He shuddered as he contemplated the horror of turning into one of the shiny narcissists that frequented the Salon. Andrew told the employee that loitered near the roped off stairs up to the gallery that he had an appointment to see Manon and she let him pass without a fuss. He smiled at all the memories as he walked along the length of the gallery to the discreet door to the corporate reception. Then things just got downright weird. As in everyone staring at him weird.

“Bonjour, I am here to see Manon Roux, or she might be Manon Bernard now, I’m sorry I don’t know if she changed her name when she married. Anyway, she is expecting me.”

Andrew heard the receptionist call Manon and let her know that he was in reception but then she furtively phoned several other numbers and before Manon could come and rescue him several staff members suddenly needed to urgently talk to the receptionist. All the while staring at Andrew. Despite having checked he had to fight the urge to re-check his fly again. Manon just laughed when she came to get him and shooed most of the loiterers away.

“What was that all about?”

“You.”

“What about me?”

They got to her office and Manon closed the door. She perched on the edge of her desk looking far too happy.

“You really need to get at least a little bit of ego.”

Andrew looked at her suspiciously.

“You have become increasingly famous Andrew. We should have seen that it could happen but nobody thought about the impact of the man in the commercials. For the last 18 months we have had all these commercials being broadcast, both on television and in the cinema. They all have two things. One is Hermès products, which is hardly a surprise but the other thing is they have you. You probably only get half the screen time of the woman.”

She giggled suddenly.

“And the camera focuses more on your body than your face, but you are in all of them. Then you add the fact that nobody knows anything about you, you only work for us, people are intrigued. Why do you think there were five women in reception there just now? A confirmed Andrew sighting.”

He laughed and shook his head, like a dog shaking off water. It didn’t seem real. But Manon almost scolded him.

“Andrew, what I have said is true. The commercials are a huge success. The stuff with Chiara and attacking what is seen as old? They really work with our customers. The shoots with Mathilde are the same way. We have not released the shoot where you seduce her daughter, and I doubt we will. But the shoot where the mother steals her daughter’s lover. People are ignoring the morality and just enjoying the imagery. And then there are the fun shoots. The shoots with Heloise and Renee explode out of the screen. The three of you just have so much fun. The tone was set with you that very first day when you threw her over your shoulder. When Heloise was able to reach down and started smacking your bum as you carried her to the bed, that right there changed everyone’s perception of Heloise. The camera caught her smile as you threw her onto the bed. Same with Renee. Flips and cartwheels using you as the landing mat? The push ups with her hanging off you? It is these silly little things that make them fun. Even the commercial with Chiara in the dance studio. The look on your face with the dancer’s belt. Chagrin, humiliation, but then you just stride towards her and there is a look of lust, hunger, in your eyes, in the way you walk.”

She stopped and looked at Andrew’s amazed expression.

“We were, and are, so lucky with you. The number of meetings I have had where we have discussed how to get other models like you. Guys with good bodies are ten a centime but having your combination of passion and lustiness while having no ego at all? The one thing we have talked about is brains. Is it because you are so intelligent that this works? But even then, it is not just that. Veronique told us weeks, months later that the bullfight scene was your idea. She wasn’t even there. The scarves from Salome, the mother daughter idea, filming the audition but then filming the filming of the audition. We don’t know what to do with all that footage. The shots from the door of the models walking into the studio and 50 people and lots of cameras staring at them, they are really powerful. But like I said we just don’t know what to do with it.

“Look I know this makes you uncomfortable but it is important that you heard it. So come on, let’s go and see Beatrice. Think about the impact you have had on her, and on me. Everything that you have done for Hermès is not in aid of art, it is to increase sales of our products. If everyone loved the commercials but sales did not increase then they would have been stopped. But sales are substantially up but equally importantly Hermès is associated with challenging standards of beauty, ageism, ideas like that. The bosses love it. When things are going well, everyone associated with it gets painted with some of that success. The head of the company okayed the original Chiara shoot and so he gets some of that credit. There was much less discussion about the scene in the bed in Cyprus than any of us expected as a result.”

Manon was silent for the rest of the walk to Beatrice’s office and Andrew thought about everything she had said. He had a lot to digest and no time. Beatrice was bubbly, it is the only word for it. Not the word you would associate with an elegant Parisian lady in her fifties but it was true. She teetered on the edge of giddy at times, it made him smile.

“So you have arrived to throw us into chaos again?”

She smiled broadly at him.

“At least I hope so.”

“No this was a spur of the moment decision and I have no ideas. I didn’t even think I would be here during the trip. Do you not have ideas for September?”

“We have ideas but none are jumping out as capturing the attention of the public. The commercials with Chiara in Cyprus were magnificent. The way you would come out of the water in that white shirt. The shot with you wearing the shirt versus being bare chested, it was so much better with the shirt. The ragged sleeves, the way it just clung to you.”

Andrew thought she was going to go full damsel with the vapours on him.

“We will try for something like that at Christmas. We will go to the Caribbean, Martinique probably, but for September we are struggling to do anything that has not been done a thousand times before.”

Andrew sat there and the big old brain had a momentary flash of inspiration. He sighed as he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. For him. Beatrice watched him and started to smile.

“What. I can tell you have thought of something.”

“Manon tells me that the commercials have been very successful, yes?”

“Of course.”

“So why don’t I stand at the bottom of the stairs in the shop and talk to the customers. Why don’t you film your customers telling you why they like the commercials? They will tell you what works, but they also might give you an idea for the next one. Something that you have not thought of.”