Schrodinger's Bedroom
It goes without saying that all the characters engaged in sexual activities are over eighteen, this is of course a work of fiction, and the copyright is reserved by me, N. S. Carter, and I forbid its use, in whole or in part, without my explicit permission.
Schrodinger's Bedroom
My name is Felix Schrodinger and I can't take a joke. I have a sense of humour but I can't take a joke. At least those that have a victim, and especially if I am the victim.
And by the way I do have a cat, and like all cats she loves to get into boxes, and in fact all kinds of containers and confined spaces. I have no idea why. It just seems to be a cat thing.
As far as I know I am not related to the famous Schrodinger, that is Erwin Rudolf Josef Alexander Schrodinger, but it is a bit hazy since my grandfather escaped to England from Nazi-occupied Austria and he died before I was born, so I never had a chance to ask him about our family history.
I guess that you might have heard about Schrodinger's Cat, though you might be a bit uncertain about what it means. Schrodinger (the famous one, not me or my grandfather), was a physicist. He gave his name to a thought experiment, or Gedankenexperiment as it is called in German, in which he placed an imaginary cat in a box with a mechanism that might or might not kill the cat, depending on a random subatomic event. We only know if the cat is alive or dead by opening the box. Until then the cat is both alive and dead at the same time. How you interpret this thought experiment leads to deciding whether we live in a multiverse or not, so at least in terms of physics it is quite a big deal.
Of course, if you have a cat you will immediately spot the inherent problem. Put a cat in a box against its will and it will make a lot of noise. If it does not make a noise, then you know it is dead without having to open the box. I guess Erwin did not have a cat.
The 'joke' is so often a cover for aggression. When the perpetrator gets called out on it then you will hear:
"Can't you take a joke?"
"I was only joking."
"Lost your sense of humour?"
And many other variations on this theme.
I was the bloke who worked hard at university because he knew his parents were struggling to help him with his fees, while the other guys were having fun, and so I became the focus of practical jokes from the rich kids who saw my dedication as some kind of coded criticism.
This to some degree explains my allergy to April Fool's Day. So often they are the worst of them all. Someone trying too hard, and completely lacking inspiration, perpetrates a 'joke' which on any other day would be seen as an invitation to get punched, but on that day they have a free pass, and if you object, that means 'you can't take a joke'.
OK. Mini-rant over and on to my tale.
Nowadays it is quite possible you have heard of me, but at the time these events happened I was an up-and-coming biotech entrepreneur. I had already done well enough to have a house of my own in a decent part of London. I still had a mortgage, but it was one an ordinary mortal could afford.
It was the first day of April and one month earlier you might have said everything seemed perfect. My girlfriend Sarah had moved in with me and my friends mostly said that she was perfect for me. I admit I have a tendency to be a little intense, to try and plan everything, and can find it hard to 'let my hair down', but then that is also part of the reason why I had the house in London when I was not yet thirty. They saw Sarah as helping me to not take things too seriously. She was fun.
I had been working pretty hard because we had the chance to sign a huge deal with a major pharmaceuticals concern to provide them with the important precursors to a whole range of drugs at a fraction of the normal price. This was because we had come up with a different method for their production. I knew that if we got the deal I would be set for life, and I was the kind of guy who would only propose to his girlfriend when confident that he could support her and the family he hoped to have. I had already bought the ring but was waiting with the proposal.
Sadly, Sarah did not seem to get this. Fun was important to her, and as far as she was concerned, I was not being as much fun as before. And then her university friend, Mark, got chucked out of his flat and she insisted that we let him stay in the spare room, saying that it would only be a couple of days.
On April the first he had been there two weeks and he seemed to be quite comfortable. Which is kind of logical since he was not paying rent and was yet to take the course on how to load or unload the dishwasher. When he arrived I had not asked him for anything since it was to be only 'a couple of days'.
Funnily enough, while he irritated me immensely, I did not see him as competition in the romantic sense. No ambition. Immature. Lacking in manners. Uncultured. Proud of his ignorance.
Hopefully, you get the picture.
On top of that Sarah had assured me they had never had a relationship, and to be fair I am pretty sure she was not lying.
It was done. The contract was signed, dated Friday the first of April, and I could move on with our plans. For the first time in a while, I was leaving work at four. I told my secretary, Gail, that I was leaving. She asked me if I was heading home, which in retrospect was odd as she would never normally ask me that, but I did not pay it any heed at the time.
I had a picture of the evening. I had plans and they definitely did not include Mark. He could spend the time like every other evening watching mindless reality TV. We would go out to a fancy restaurant. And at some point I would get out a little box, I would go down on one knee and pop the question.
This was how I saw the evening, but as some famous German general said, no plan survives contact with the enemy.
Items of intimate clothing in the hall and on the stairs. Sounds coming from above me. Sarah's voice crying out in ecstasy. Marks voice grunting then saying,
"That's it. Take it slut."
Sarah crying out,
"Fuck me, Mark, Just like that."
There were eleven steps, and each of them seemed a metre high. I reached the top. And was facing our bedroom door. All I had to do was reach out my hand and open it.
"Fuck me, you stud."
I vomited. Quietly and without warning. And suddenly I could think.
I turned around and walked down the stairs. Strangely it seemed to have gone quiet upstairs, even though I was pretty sure they could not have heard me.
In the kitchen I wrote a brief note.
'When I get back Mark had better be gone, otherwise his next accommodation will be a hospital ward. You will also need to find yourself somewhere else to live.'
I walked out, got in my car and drove to the Venus Bar.
I parked, went in and ordered myself a diet coke. I only drink alcohol when I am happy, and never when I need to think.
The Venus Bar caters mostly to the dregs of humanity, or so it seems. Strangely it is in quite a smart part of London, but you would not know that from the interior, or from the people you see there. That is why I go there in times of trouble. It gives me perspective.
After a few minutes I was beginning to see the positives. On some level I knew something was wrong. That's why I had not proposed before. At least we were not married.
Strangely the thing that revolted me most at that moment was not the infidelity, nor the disrespect, but the stupidity. Did she really think she would not get caught?
Also, I was wondering at what the hell she could see in Mark. I know I was looking at him with a man's eyes, but I did not think he was particularly handsome. He did not keep himself in shape the way I did, despite my workload, and he certainly was not a snappy dresser, and he had nothing in the way of prospects.
These were my thoughts as I sat there.
Then she walked into the bar. Gorgeous. Dressed elegant sexy. High black heels. What I was pretty sure were stockings and not tights. Totally out of place in the Venus Bar and knowing it.
All the sleazy guys in there turned their heads, like crocodiles on the riverbank, about to slide into the water, grab the tempting calf and drag it under.
She held her phone to her ear and was talking with low venom into it.
"A joke? April Fool? I can't believe you'd do that to me, knowing how I feel about it."
There were evidently tears about to flow.
"You'll be here in half an hour? What am I supposed to do? I don't even have any money or cards on me since you took them out of my purse?"
Now her voice turned incredulous.
"Get someone to buy me a drink? In here?"
At this point she cracked and ended the call. Now she just stood there, unsure what to do.
Until I did it, I was not aware that I was going to intervene.
"Excuse me?"
She jumped.
"I couldn't help overhearing your conversation and I have a suggestion."
She turned to look at me, her expression understandably suspicious. Then she did a kind of doubletake.
"You look kind of familiar. Have we met?"
Now I was the one caught by surprise, and I answered with spontaneous honesty.
"I don't think so, I'm pretty sure I would remember you. You're beautiful."
She blushed slightly and before she could respond, I added,
"I'm Felix. Felix Schrodinger."
She smiled. And it was the loveliest smile I have ever seen.
"Wow. That's it. I saw your photo today. You're the boss of Mendel's Garden, aren't you? My editor wanted me to find out whether you got that huge contract that everyone's talking about, the one with Paradise Pharmaceuticals."
I was amazed that I was getting that much attention.
"I'm April. April Fuller. Don't even ask about the name. I just started working for the Financial Times, kind of on probation."
I was glad that she was at least open to talking to me. I continued.
"I was going to suggest that we go next door to the bar of the Regency Hotel. It's a little bit more salubrious than this one, and that way you won't be here when he turns up."
She smiled, but then looked slightly troubled.
"As you probably heard, I don't have any money on me ..."
I laughed.
"Well, it just so happens that after signing a certain deal today, I can afford a drink or two. And 'lover-boy' can hardly complain, can he?"
April smirked and nodded. I turned to the barman and put a tenner on the counter, way more than the cost of my diet coke, and said,
"Keep the change, and when a guy comes in asking after the lady, just tell him that she left with a wealthy-looking guy in a suit. Can you do that?"
He winked at us and said,
"Sure. Hope he can take a joke."
We went next door. It rather amused me that the Venus Bar could exist next to a four-star hotel.
The bar at the Regency was ideal for private conversations and we sat in a semi-enclosed booth. Both of us ordered coffees.
"So, Felix, how come you were in a dive like the Venus Bar on your own? Especially when it sounds like you had something to celebrate?"
I realised it must seem odd to her.
"Well, it's kind of a tradition for me. When something goes wrong, I go and sit in the Venus Bar and watch the people, and I soon realise my life is a lot better than that of most of the people there, no matter what temporary grief I'm going through. I guess it's a kind of therapy."
April looked puzzled.
"I thought you said you got the deal?"
I laughed ruefully.
"Well, at four this afternoon I was heading home, ready to take my girlfriend out to celebrate and maybe even propose to her. At four-thirty I was listening to her already celebrating, with her 'ex' boyfriend."
I explained what had happened and what had led up to it.
Just then my phone rang. It was Sarah.
"Sorry about this, April, I guess I should take this, she's already tried several times."
I took a deep breath and pressed the icon. For some reason I put it on speakerphone. I guess I wanted April to know I was not making up what I had told her.
"Felix, thank goodness I got you. It was just a practical joke. We weren't really doing anything. If you'd come into the bedroom you'd have seen that. I didn't know that you would react that way. Just come back and we can explain."
Suddenly I felt a sense of complete calmness. There was no longer any conflict inside me because I had made my decisions.
"To start with, forget 'we'. Your fuckwit of a boyfriend had better be gone by the time I get back. He has lived rent-free in my home for two weeks without so much as a thank-you, unless of course you count this afternoon."
"But Felix ..."
"And you had better find yourself somewhere else to live pretty quick."
"But Felix, you've got it all wrong, it was just a joke, an April Fools Day thing. I didn't really ..."
"Sarah, how about you do a little thought experiment. Try to imagine telling someone this story and persuading them that you didn't do anything wrong .... In fact why don't you try it for real, telling someone how you were in our bedroom with your 'ex' boyfriend, making all the sounds that go with passionate sex, but that it was all completely innocent."
This time there was a slight pause.
"Felix, it's not like that, I ..."
April surprised me by picking up my phone and speaking into it.
"Hi Sarah, we can start that experiment now. I just heard your story, and you certainly haven't convinced me."
Another pause at the other end.
"Who are you?"
April gave a smirk.
"I'm just a girl who Felix picked up in a bar and bought a drink for. I guess you could say that both of us can't take a joke."
With that I took back the phone and ended the call. We both looked at each other and laughed, then April said,
"You know, the funny thing is I have a feeling that she might just be telling the truth, Felix."
She looked at me speculatively.
"I know. I had the same feeling, and then I realised it doesn't matter."
It was clear she understood and agreed, and I was happy she did not need me to explain.
"OK, April, one good turn deserves another. You were asking about the contract."
She smiled and said,
"Look, Felix, I don't want to take advantage of you at a low point. Please don't tell me something you shouldn't."
"Oh, don't worry about it. They already agreed that it could be made public, and they were leaving that to me. Our company is not listed on the stock market so there are no issues of share price manipulation. I was going to wait till Monday to issue a press release, but there is nothing to stop it being earlier, and the contract itself has to be in the public domain because of EU competition rules."
She looked interested.
"Give me your e-mail address, April."
She did and I sent her the scan of the signed contract.
"Why don't you call your editor and file the story?"
Her eyes lit up.
"Are you sure? I mean it would really help me."
"Sure. I'm not going anywhere. Can you dictate a story over the phone?"
She nodded.
"Go for it then."
She called her editor.
"Hi Reg, its April here. You asked me to find out about that Mendel's Garden deal."
She put the phone on speaker.
"OK, so do you have anything?"
"Yes, I can confirm that the contract was signed today, for three point two billion euros."
I guess that having many years of experience meant he was cautious.
"That sounds great, April, but do you actually have any evidence? Someone might just be playing games here."
"No, I have an impeccable source. I just sent you a scan of the contract."
There was a very brief pause. Then he was back, sounding a little worried.
"Well, that looks genuine, but how did you get it, I mean there could be legal issues ..."
At this point I picked up the phone.
"Hi there Reg, it's Felix Schrodinger here, owner of Mendel's Garden, and I'm the source. We'll send a selfie of April and I in a moment to prove I'm not an imposter, but it's all above board. I was going to wait to Monday to release the news, but we ran into each other by chance and April persuaded me to let her have the details."
We got a waiter to take a picture of us at the table, which we sent to her editor. She then dictated her story by phone, taking a surprisingly short time and impressing me with the way she was able to marshal her thoughts and construct a coherent article without pen and paper. Intelligence can be very sexy.
When she had finished, she laughed and said,
"Well, things are definitely looking up. I'm certainly feeling so much brighter than I was."
Just at that moment her phone rang. It displayed the name Dan.
"Shit."
So, I guessed that was the boyfriend.
After a moment's hesitation she picked it up and answered it, and as was becoming our custom put it on speakerphone.
"Yes?"
"Hi babe. Where are you?"
"In a bar, having a drink like you suggested."
"OK, tell me where it is, and I'll come and get you."
"No."
"What do you mean, babe? Are you still mad at me? It was just a joke."
"Oh, I'm not mad ... any more ... I'm having a great time here with Felix."
"Who's Felix. Oh, I get it, you are just pulling my leg."
"No, Dan. Felix is the lovely man who took me to a much nicer bar and bought me a drink. And no, my birthday is beginning to look up."
Wow. So, it was her birthday. He had done this to her on her birthday. April 1. Her parents had called her April. And her surname was Fuller.
And I thought I had it bad.
"Hey babe, I get it, maybe I went a bit too far this time. Just tell me where you are." He was beginning to sound a bit whiny.
I picked up the phone.
"Hi there, Dan, It's Felix here. We're probably going to have something to eat now, and celebrate April's birthday in style. Don't wait up."
I wondered whether I had gone too far, and half expected April to intervene, but she was evidently rather enjoying herself.
"Hey, April, are you there, that's enough, you've had your fun ..."
Now she took the phone back from me.
"What's the matter Dan? Can't you take a joke? I'll see you later ... or maybe in the morning."
She ended the call and then did something complicated with her phone.
"What are you doing?"
"Blocking his number. I can't switch my phone off yet because of work. They might need something."
When I had mentioned taking her for a birthday meal I had not really given it much thought, but she had taken me seriously, and I decided that I was more than happy with the idea.
It took me two minutes to get us a table at a nearby French restaurant with a good reputation. It was still early enough in the evening for that to be possible.
She was evidently now a bit troubled.
"Look, Felix, I am feeling a bit bad about this and maybe it could look awkward for you, taking a journalist out for a meal, so I would understand if ..."
I laughed.
"How about I am simply taking April, an intelligent and interesting woman who I would like to know better, out for a meal. And in the interests of full disclosure, she also happens to be rather attractive and is dressed in a way I find incredibly sexy, and if you are not happy with that I would understand if ..."
Now she laughed.
"In that case I am happy to go for a meal with a man who manages to be intelligent and sensitive without being a wimp. And in the interests of full disclosure, he also happens to be a cliché of the tall, dark and handsome stranger, and he looks really good in a suit ... so lead on."r"
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