Singled Out by Simon Brett

it?’
    Sometimes Laura could hardly believe the depth of her boss’s misogyny. Though he escorted a succession of young actresses around expensive London restaurants – and presumably went to bed with them too – Dennis was one of those men who genuinely hated women. His distaste for the processes of their bodies, particularly for menstruation, was almost pathological. The thought prompted a flicker of excitement in Laura. Her period was due in a couple of days, but she wasn’t feeling the familiar bloated restlessness.
    â€˜No,’ she replied evenly. ‘It’s my father’s funeral.’
    â€˜Oh.’ Even Dennis couldn’t argue with that, but he still managed to come back on the offensive. ‘Pity you couldn’t have given me a bit more notice. I’ll have to reschedule everything.’
    Laura knew this to be untrue. Each edition of
Newsviews
was prepared from scratch on the morning of its transmission. Even the designation of the day’s studio director could be changed at short notice. But she didn’t take issue, simply said, ‘I’ve only just heard the date myself. There had to be a post-mortem.’
    â€˜I see.’ Even Dennis Parker realized that the situation required some token gesture of condolence. ‘I hope you’re not too cut up about it – your father … “passing on”, I mean.’ It was odd that someone as professionally blunt should hide behind a euphemism like that.
    â€˜No,’ said Laura, ‘I’m fine. We weren’t close.’ Though even as she said the words, an involuntary tremor ran through her.
    Dennis Parker, realizing he was in danger of being gracious, reasserted his customary boorishness. ‘Good. Because the last thing I bloody need is one of my directors sobbing her eyes out over the control desk.’
    Laura often wondered what triggered this obsessive hatred of her sex. She generally concluded it was fear.
    â€˜And bear in mind,’ Dennis added as a parting shot, ‘I won’t forget. If you ever try to use your father’s funeral as an excuse to get another day off work, it won’t wash.’
    This too was gratuitous offence. Laura had never missed a day since she had started working on the programme. But she knew the pointlessness of taking issue with Dennis on such a detail. He wasn’t worth the effort.
    â€˜I didn’t even know you still had a father,’ said Rob that evening, as he looked wistfully through his Campari at her.
    â€˜I haven’t seen much of him in latter years.’
    â€˜No, but you might have mentioned him. Makes me feel very excluded, you suddenly springing a father on me. And I thought I was your
friend
.’
    The emphasis showed that Rob was in one of his self-pitying moods. The public flamboyance often gave way to an emptiness bordering on despair. What Laura usually did when she caught him like this was to take him out for a meal and ply him with wine until the alcohol restored at least a façade of giggling outrageousness. But that evening she didn’t think she had the energy. The events of the next day were weighing on her mind. She wanted time alone to prepare her reactions to them.
    â€˜You
are
my friend,’ said Laura, reassuringly rubbing the back of his hand. ‘Probably the best friend I’ve got.’
    â€˜And the safest. At least you know I’m not going to spend all my time trying to get inside your knickers.’ She acknowledged the truth of this with a little smile. ‘Still think you might have told me you had a father, though. I mean, it’s not as if I don’t tell you
everything
about my mother.’
    â€˜That is certainly true.’
    â€˜Never guess what the silly bitch did yesterday. Took her filthy smalls down to the launderette and only put
sugar
in the machine instead of soap powder. Honestly, stupid cow isn’t safe to be let out on her own.’
    The