Misspent Youth

40. GLOBAL COMMUNICATIONS

“YOUR SISTER IS CALLING,” the domestic computer said.

“Put her on.”

Alison’s face filled the big living room screen. At the best of times that scale was intimidating. With a scowl on her face she appeared more than a little frightening.

“You stupid, stupid shit,” she said. The image vanished.

“Call from your wife.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe even you could do that. You thoughtless bastard. Have you got any idea what you’ve done to that poor boy?”

“Oh come on, Sue, it was hardly deliberate. You were the one who let him come home early.”

“Jesus wept, don’t you dare try and shift the blame on this. You and that juvenile tart should never have happened. Not ever, Jeff! Click, end call.”

Rejuve grandpa bonks schoolgirl.

Jeff Baker, the planet’s oldest teenager, has scored with an eighteen-year-old babe (bikini picture >hyperlink<). The superstud pensioner brazenly announced on his own lifesite that he was bedding the gorgeous Annabella Goddard. What he didn’t mention was that sensational Bella was just a schoolgirl when they met (pictured in her uniform >hyperlink<). The incredible reason why they got together, your International Sun has discovered, was all thanks to Jeff’s son, Tim, who was Bella’s long-time and devoted boyfriend. Innocent Tim introduced the pair when his old man came back from his fabulously expensive Euro Rejuvenation Treatment. Now the besotted dad’s gone and elbowed his pining lad aside so he can grapple with big boobed Bella (bikini picture2 >hyperlink<).

Heartbroken Tim has wound up moving in with his aunty while the couple enjoy nightly romps in the playboy’s palatial home where poor Tim grew up. “I can’t stand living there anymore,” said the desperate boy, adding: “They’ve ruined my life.”

What’s more, Bella isn’t the first girl the frisky Jeff has bedded since he finished his treatment. Sad Martina Lewis (picture >hyperlink<) had a very public fling with the insatiable Jeff several weeks ago. “He was all a girl could dream of between the sheets,” the rejected Martina said yesterday. But she doesn’t hold any grudges. “I wish Bella well. He’s a great catch.”

The brainy hunk (picture >hyperlink<) has also featured heavily in Rob Lacey’s campaign for the European presidency. Last night, a spokesperson for the hopeful candidate’s office said: “Jeff Baker is an excellent example of rejuvenation. This latest development only proves how successful the treatment which Prime Minister Lacey endorsed can be.” Asked if Jeff would be taking any further part in the campaign, the spokesperson replied: “I think he’s got his hands full right now.”

It was the only call in a whole week that Tim roused himself to answer.

The scuffed screen in his bedroom showed him Vanessa’s heart-shaped face creased with anxiety. She was regarding her own screen’s picture with almost maternal concern. “I should have called earlier,” she said. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to speak to anybody. How’s it been?”

“Pretty shitty. The residents are furious with Alison for taking me in. There are reporters camped outside the estate gates, and there’s already been a couple of fights between them and the security company people.”

“That’s awful. They’re so much animals. Can’t the police do something?”

“They say not. I just can’t escape, you know? The pair of them are all over the news streams. It’s like they’re a celebrity couple, or something; they’re getting the same kind of coverage that Sir Mitch and Stephanie do. God, even the DataMail interviewed Annabelle. Everything she said was just crap, how much she loves him, how much they’ve got in common. And I saw pictures of them going to the Summer Serpentine party together down in London. Then there was a thing about them at a nightclub in Mayfair.”

“Filter it out, Tim, for heaven’s sake. You’re the best programmer out of all of us.”

“Yeah, right. Did you know she was seeing him?”

“No!” She shook her head in regret. “No, Tim, I didn’t. None of us did. Look, I’m majorly sorry it happened, but you’re too good for her. Really.”

He knew he should smile at that, but couldn’t quite manage it. “Thanks.”

“That’s what she’s like, Tim. Just a body, there’s no character there, no substance. If I’d been dating you, I would never have done that.”

“But we weren’t dating.”

“That’s just a timing thing. Hey look, are you still coming to the protest march?”

“Dunno. Hadn’t thought about it much.”

“Figures. But you know, you’re really due a break. Why don’t you come up here to Nottingham for a couple of days before? There’s room; and this house has a big walled garden, nobody would know you’re here. We could travel down to meet with the others afterward.”

It took him a moment to realize what she was saying. How come she’d never given off signals when they were at school? Five years they’d known each other—and nothing. “That’s, er, really kind. But you so much don’t want me to visit right now. They’ve doubled the size of my bodyguard team, which is a huge pain. The Duke cow said the EIC were showing an interest.”

“God, that is so much scary.”

“I don’t suppose they’ll be interested in me. Christ, I hate him more than they do.”

“It’ll all die down. These things do. The bodyguards will go away.”

“I hope so. Call you back in a couple of days?”

“I’ll be here.”