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Bicycle wheels with painted tires hang on the walls like modern works of art. It really is quite captivating.
    “This is extraordinary,” she says.
    “Perhaps,” Russell replies modestly. “But my true aim is to take the ordinary items in life and save them from the well-worn fate of trash.”
    “Well, you’ve certainly achieved that,” says Lexi.
    “I love myself, Lexi, but I love the greatest mother of all above and beyond that. We are all children of the earth and we owe it to her to behave with respect and integrity. I don’t know about you, but I for one have had it up to here with humans flipping the bird at our ailing matriarch. It is in our power to save her…”
    His fervor is certainly compelling.
    “Looking around here,” says Lexi, “I can see you clearly intend to make a difference.”
    “I really do,” says Russell.
    “But, if you don’t mind my asking,” says Lexi cautiously, not wanting to offend him, “What
is
the business exactly? What do you do?”
    Russell sucks in his breath, as if preparing to duck under water.
    “Anything. Everything. I have a lot of excellent ideas on how to improve our commitment to the earth. I have volumes of valuable information stored in a paperless vault,” he taps the side of his head pointedly. “I’ve already transformed a local retail outlet. They now run all their delivery vehicles on vegetable oil and they’ve cut down on trash output by eighty percent.”
    “That’s very impressive,” says Lexi.
    “I just need a bit of assistance getting focused and getting out there. I find myself in somewhat of a jumble,” Russell admits, glancing around his jam-packed living room. “I sure don’t have a lot of money, Lexi, but I could pay you a small salary to begin with, and my bet is that Let The Green Times Roll will soon rocket. If things work out with you and me, I would gladly cut you in on a percentage.”
    Lexi is hesitant. She knows she really isn’t in a position to be picky, and while Russell seems harmless, she is skeptical as to what kind of business could be fashioned from this museum of oddities.
    “I think what you’re doing here is admirable, Russell, and your passion is evident, but I’m just not certain what the future of all this could be.”
    Russell scoops up a dozy Boris, who has squeezed his way through a cat flap (previously a Supertramp album cover).
    “That’s just it, Lexi. No one is certain of the future. Our whole planet is in jeopardy unless people like you take a risk on people like me. I’ve read your resume. You have plenty of experience. I like your energy. Just say yes.”
    Lexi is caught off guard by Russell’s directness. He might be making a more pertinent point than he realizes. She flashes back to all the jobs of the past few years that had initially appeared so suitable, only to unravel time and time again. Maybe for once she should stop trying to get it right and risk getting it wrong instead? She knows her mother wouldn’t agree, but perhaps a little reverse psychology is exactly what she needs to turn things around.
    “Okay, Russell. I accept the challenge,” she says, deciding the only thing she has to lose is another job.
    “You do?” he asks, looking shocked, leaving Lexi questioning how many applicants have declined the position before her.
    “I do,” she responds, feeling only half as confident as she sounds.

GEORGE
7 th November, 2009
Camden, London
    “It’s a croissant, you see, but with two types of chutney, one sweet, one sour, and layers of thinly sliced roast beef.” Simon licks his lips longingly, running his hand through his spiky red hair.
    “Dude, you need to get laid,” says Duncan, throwing a baseball cap across the room. Simon ducks as it skims over his head. “In fact, so do you, George—what is it with us? Am I the only one getting any action around here?”
    “I am,” offers Mark, the bass player and the only member of the band who is married.
    “You don’t