Callum leaves early for a shoot the next morning and Carol and I decide to treat ourselves to breakfast in bed. As we hoover up our scrambled egg, we discuss tactics and come up with a plan. We’re going to call all the Lowerys in the phone book and then all film and video production companies listed in the Yellow Pages, not forgetting to try directory enquiries too.
Carol takes the room phone and I use her mobile after promising to pay the bill for it. Before I even start, I have a feeling that it’s a lost cause. What are the chances of Phil even living in this city, never mind having a phone registered to his name?
Six hours later, I realise my premonition was correct.
I’ve had eight porno film companies, twenty-six offers to video my next wedding, christening or funeral and forty-seven bemused receptionists claiming that there are no employees of that name in their companies.
Carol has had eight potential leads, which, after relentless pursuit, turned out to be dead ends, one elderly man who pretended to be Phil just to have someone talk to and three accusations of being a stalker.
Directory enquiries were no use either – they didn’t have any listings that weren’t already in the book.
I try desperately to stay positive – I didn’t come all this way to give up. But by the time Callum gets back, I’m considering hiring a plane with one of those banners flying behind it, saying PHIL LOWERY, CALL THE PLAZA, ROOM 202.
‘Come on, ladies, I’m starving. We’ve got a table booked downstairs at seven.’
I look from Carol’s face to Callum’s and decide to pass, pleading nervous exhaustion. Let Romeo and Juliet have a night out on their own. Neither of them look too disappointed that I’m crying off.
Carol goes into the bathroom and emerges an hour later, looking like she just walked off the front cover of Vogue. As they leave together, I can’t help hoping that they get it together. I’m over the shock of last night now and I know they would make each other happy.
I started this looking for a happy ever after, but I’ve realised it might not be mine.
I spend the night with a fruit basket and a remote control. I love American TV, but I’m going to give myself a migraine if I don’t stop flicking from channel to channel. How does anyone ever decide what to watch?
Just after eleven, I hear footsteps in the corridor outside and quickly switch off the TV and lights.
Barbie and Ken burst in, giggling like kids.
Carol switches the light back on.
‘Stop pretending to be asleep, Cooper. We went for a walk after dinner and got you pizza.’
Rumbled. I sit up as she fires the pizza box over to me like a frisbee.
Callum follows behind it and gives me a huge kiss.
‘What’s that for?’ I ask him.
‘Just for being you.’
‘You mean pathetic, lonely and doomed to a life of misery?’
He laughs as he flicks the TV back on. David Letterman is warming up the crowd.
‘So what’s on the schedule for Cagney and Lacey tomorrow then?’ he asks.
‘I don’t know, Callum. I’ve run out of ideas.’
Carol starts to make suggestions, but my attention is drawn back to the television.
‘Now, ladies and gentlemen, straight from a record breaking national tour,’ his voice raises in anticipation, ‘Emmy award winning comedian,’ the tension mounts, ‘Mister PHIL LOWERY.’
Callum and Carol stop talking and turn slowly to face the screen. Pepperoni slides out of my open mouth and down my chin.
Callum finally speaks. ‘That’s him? I recognise that guy. I spoke to him at a party last week, but I didn’t catch his name. Hold on a minute.’
He reaches for the phone.
I’m still staring, transfixed. This can’t be happening. This is all a dream. It’s like when Pamela Ewing died in Dallas and then came back in the next series. I’m going to wake up tomorrow in my flat in Richmond and think of another excuse to phone in sick to work.
Callum replaces the receiver. ‘Get up, quick and get dressed. Hurry up.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘Carly, this show is broadcast two hours before it goes out and afterwards they all head to the Rainbow Room for drinks. Now, move your bum.’
Twenty minutes later, we’re outside the Rainbow Room. There’s a very serious looking bouncer at the door.
‘Sorry, folks we’re fu— Oh, it’s you, Mr Cooper, go right on in.’
I’m impressed. If only he wasn’t my brother.
As we rise in the elevator, my heart is thundering. I still can’t believe this is actually happening. It’s one of those freak, once in a lifetime coincidences that you read about in magazines or see at the end of a rom com. Back in Shanghai Phil had said he wanted to try stand up and I’d told him time and time again he should do it. Looks like he’d made it in a big way. Huge.
Carol holds my hand until the sweat on my palms threatens to glue us together for life. I jump as the doors ping open.
We enter the crowded room, eyes squinting to adjust to the light. I search every corner, but he’s not here.
Carol pulls at my sleeve. ‘Isn’t that him? The guy over at the bar, talking to the barman?’
My eyes follow hers, and in seconds I’m striding in his direction. I stand behind him.
‘Gin and tonic, please, and a maple walnut chocolate chip to go.’
There’s a pause, then he spins round. Before I know it, I’m in a bear hug and gasping for breath.
‘I can’t believe it’s you! I thought I’d never see you again!’ he blurts, causing the bemused barman to knock over a vodka bottle.
Over his shoulders, I can see Callum and Carol watching with huge, perfect, pearly white smiles.
‘I missed you too, Phil. I lost your number and I
