Ring Back

Leila Alders, or Golden Throat as she was known in Medico, looked at her watch. It was five o’clock. Nearly time to go home. She’d been busy today. Mind you she always was. She was Medico’s, the UK’s leading supplier of herbal health products, top selling telesales girl. She had more clients than anyone else. They asked for her by name. They didn’t want anyone else. They just kept coming back for more. They never left her. Leila wasn’t sure they needed all the pills and treatments they ordered. They phoned so they could speak to her. Hear her voice. Everyone said so.

That’s why the other girls had christened her Golden Throat. It was a joke, like calling David Beckham, Golden Balls. Nothing to do with Deep Throat.

Leila could do things with her voice that other people did with different parts of their bodies.

She could caress you, thrill you, excite you. Fill you with hope. With love. With joy. With lust. Men fell in love with her voice. A lot of them asked her out. Pleaded with her to meet them. But she didn’t. It was against the rules. And anyway it wouldn’t be any use.

People were always telling her she should be on radio. Perhaps a DJ, or reading a book or short story. Or doing voice over work for TV and radio ads. Something like that. The men said she should start a sex line. She’d make a lot of money. But she didn’t hold with that, and anyway she already made a lot of money. She was on commission for everything she sold. And Leila sold a lot of product, nearly twice as much as anyone else in the company.

She was happy at Medico. She believed in the products. She had them at home in her bathroom. The company let her have anything she wanted free.

There was another reason she stayed. Medico had been founded the year she was born. She felt they were almost part of her family, especially after her parents were killed in a plane crash. She didn’t really have anyone else. Just Medico, who loved her and looked after her. Secretly she thought one day Medico’s chemists might invent something that would make her beautiful.

As beautiful as her voice.

Her voice. It was like a musical instrument. A Stradivarius or a Bechstein. It was a gift from God. As precious to her as any Diva’s. Without her voice she’d be nothing. Leila had learnt that the hard way. She’d heard them talking, seen it in their eyes. Especially when they met her for the first time after talking to her on the phone. Disappointment. Pity. No, without her beautiful voice they wouldn’t even see her.

Leila Alders wasn’t beautiful like her voice. She wasn’t even pretty. Leila was plain. Very, very plain, some said ugly. But that was behind her back.

She was tall. Too tall for lots of men. Five foot nine inches. And thin with it. Bony was the word people used. She’d tried putting weight on, but she couldn’t. Not even with the help of Medico’s Hungary Horse pills. Not that she blamed the pills, it was her. She didn’t go in and out where other girls did. Just straight up and down. She didn’t have a waist. Or breasts, just two small swellings with very large nipples. They looked ridiculous.

Her face was long, too. Her lips were thin. Her nose was big. It got in the way when men kissed her. Not that many did. She hadn’t had a man for over a year. And that had turned out to be a one night stand, on his part. They never seemed to come back.

Everyone who knew her agreed it was sad. A tragedy. Someone with such a beautiful voice should at least be attractive. Leila agreed with them. She spent hours wishing she was pretty. She’d even considered cosmetic surgery. But they’d said they couldn’t help. Her father had promised her that one day she would be a princess. Not much chance of that.

She sighed. It was nearly time to go home. Another evening in alone. Never mind, she’d get her scrapbooks out and look through them. And dream.

Her line lit up again. From the caller ID she could see it was Mrs Beeston. Piles, constipation and wrinkles.

Medico Herbal Health. Leila speaking, how can I help you? She purred down the line.

Oh, hello Leila, how are you today?

I’m well, Mrs Beeston. Leila said, sparkling away. How are you?

Better for hearing your lovely voice, Leila. You always cheer me up. But I tell you that every time, don’t I? Maybe I need some of your Memorex pills. She laughed.

Page thirty-four, halfway down. Leila laughed. It’s very nice of you, Mrs Beeston. How can I help you today?

Time to get the order.

Well now, let me see, I need some Rinkle-free, I’m not a young thing like you. I’m sure your complexion’s as pretty as that voice of yours.

If only, Leila thought.

Page seventeen, at the top.

And I’d better have some Pile Driver. Mrs Beeston gave an embarrassed laugh.

Of course. Leila said, matter of factly, as if everyone needed it all the time. Page four at the bottom. Leila smiled to herself. Funny that.

Oh and while I’m at it I’ll have a pack of Unbloc. I think that’s all Leila.

Page twelve, half way down, Leila told herself, and read back the order. That’s fifty-four pounds, Mrs Beeston. I’ll make sure that goes out for you as soon as possible.

Thank you Leila. Could I ask you something?

Yes, Mrs Beeston?

Are you allowed to accept presents. I’d like to send you something. A thank you…you’re always so nice to me.

Well, yes we can. But you really don’t need to, Mrs Beeston.

Who shall I address it to?

Leila Alders at Medico. Thank you, but…

Not another word. Bye Leila.

Bye Mrs Beeston. Thank you for calling Medico.

Leila processed the order and wondered what Mrs Beeston was going to send her. Quite a lot of her clients sent her presents. Especially at Christmas and Easter. The other sales girls loved it. Leila shared everything with them. There was a lot of chocolate and sweets. Home-made cakes too. But other things as well. Scarves, gloves, eau de cologne and CDs’. All sorts. And then there were the things some men sent her, with messages. She threw them away, and had them taken off her list of clients.

Another call. Mr Lewis. She wasn’t sure about him. He’d told her his wife had left him. She really wanted to get rid of him, he was a bit weird, but he sounded so lonely and sad. He mostly ordered things to do with… ‘enlargement’ was how Leila referred to it. And ‘performance’. He spent a lot of money.

Medico, Herbal Health. Leila speaking, how can I help you today, Mr Lewis?

There was no reply. Just someone breathing, quite fast.

Mr Lewis, are you there? Are you alright?

Leila, oh…ah Leila. Almost a shout. A gasp.

Are you alright, Mr Lewis? Is something the matter?

Oh Leil…ahhhhh!

Leila ended the call. She might not be having any sex herself, but she knew what Mr Lewis was doing. She got up from her workstation, went over to the supervisor and reported the call.

Poor, Leila. I am sorry. That voice of yours seems to drive them mad. Why don’t you leave a few minutes early. I’ll take Mr Lewis off your list, give him to Margaret, she’ll keep him under control. Keep Leila happy, whatever you do was what the management had told her. It was easy to see why. When Leila was ill, or on holiday, sales dipped. People waited for her to come back. But they ended up ordering less. And it didn’t help cash flow.

I think I will, Mary. Thank you. Leila said. And then added.

I hope Mr Lewis is alright.

Mary laughed. You’re a funny girl, Leila. Don’t worry about him, the old pervert, just get yourself home and try and forget about it.

Someone poked their head out from the rest room and called out, Leila, are you still here.

Yes.

Come quickly, you’ll want to see this.

There was a television in the rest room to help the staff relax during their breaks. It seemed to be on all day, tuned to whatever station the resting women wanted. It was on Sky News.

Look! Helen Riddell said, pointing at the big screen.

Have they found it? Leila asked.

Helen shrugged. I don’t know what its about. But I know you’re interested in anything to do with space.

Thanks, Helen. It’s Voyager 9, they lost contact with them three months ago.

I’ll leave you to it. I’m going to make contact with a glass of wine.

Leila sat down in front of the television. The report was half way through. But, as far as she could gather, Mission Control thought they might have picked up a signal from the lost space shuttle, although it was a long way from where it had been when they’d lost contact. Scientists were putting the disappearance down to a huge meteor storm that had erupted around Mars, and that might have blown the craft deeper into space.

Leila wished she was with them. Wherever they were. Her father had got her interested in space travel. And then, when he’d got the job on Star Wars she’d visited the set, and later seen the film, she was hooked. The news report ended. She tried several other channels but they either weren’t carrying the story or she’d missed it. She’d watch it again later, at home.

All the way home Leila thought about the missing space shuttle and the possible signal. She wondered if it was them. Surely the astronauts couldn’t still be alive. Even if they were they wouldn’t be able to get back to earth. But she still wished she was with them, on the mission. Of course, if they’d discovered a new form of life, maybe they could get back. Maybe whoever, whatever it was out there would help them. Introduce them to new ways of travel.

She told herself to stop being silly. Her stop was coming up. She lent forward and pressed the bell.

As she got off the bus Leila realised she didn’t have anything for supper, she’d have to pop into Sainsbury’s. She didn’t want much. She didn’t like eating alone. It only took a few minutes and then you were clearing up.

She’d thought about advertising for someone to share the flat. Not for the money, but the company. It was big enough for two. It was just that she’d made it the way she liked it. There were all of her things that she liked to keep around her. The signed photo of Carrie Fisher. To Princess Leila from Princess Leia it said. Her father had got that for her, together with an early model of a Droid, and a bit of the script with some notes Carrie Fisher had made. Other things too. Her father had been a good scrounger. Everyone liked him.

She chose a ready meal – chicken with sun dried tomatoes – it took thirty minutes in the oven. She bought some green beans and a pack of mashed potatoes to go with it. At the till she took an Evening Standard from the rack, maybe there was something in it about the shuttle.

Chapter Two

People were always surprised when they saw Leila’s flat. She knew they thought it was too good for a telesales girl. Not that she had many visitors. Or friends for that matter. And with her parents dead, well officially presumed dead, there was no one else to invite.

The plane her parents were on had disappeared over the desert in Tunisia. It had never been found. No wreckage. Not a trace of anything, or anyone. It had just disappeared, her parents and eight other people with it. As if, Leila thought, it had gone through some kind of portal into another time zone or galaxy. Leila often wondered if her parents were out in space somewhere. Her father would like that.

The papers had made a lot of it. Not least because her father had worked on Star Wars, had been on location in that very desert. A strange happening, they called it. Like the Bermuda triangle, an unsolved mystery. A coincidence, or was it somehow more than that? The connection to Star Wars made it more newsworthy at a time when news was slow. Leila had been in the papers, they’d asked her what she thought. But she didn’t tell them about her theory, just said she missed her mum and dad.

She’d used the money from the sale of her parents big house in Twickenham to buy the flat. It was very modern, at the top of a high block. All glass and steel. And lots of space. It was like living in the sky. She’d furnished it using modern materials. Hard polished surfaces. Steel, wood, marble, glass, limestone. Control panels programmed lights, television, music, doors, cooker, heating, blinds, curtains, you name it. It had cost a lot of money, but Leila told herself it was an investment. She had nothing else to do with the money. No one to spend it on but herself. And she did earn a lot of money.

She put the food in the oven, switched on the television and went round the news channels. There was nothing. She poured herself a coke and leafed though the Standard. There was nothing there either. Too late for them.

She decided to take a shower. She didn’t like baths, too much time to look at the body she hated. The act of taking her clothes off made her think about Mr Lewis. He wouldn’t find much to get excited about if he could see her now. Still, that wasn’t the point, he shouldn’t have done it. Maybe she’d phone him later. She knew all her clients numbers. She’d give him a piece of her mind.

She heard a noise from the kitchen, probably the timer on the oven, although it sounded different from usual. She put her jeans on and a jumper and went through. Ten minutes later she’d finished her supper.

In the sitting room she stood in front of the glass wall that ran the whole width of the room, and looked out into the sky. It was beginning to get dark. Her favourite time. She often stood watching the stars come out. She wondered what it would be like to be out amongst them.

She felt unsettled. On edge. It was Mr Lewis’s fault she decided. The call had affected her more than she’d realised. Although she’d had them before, and worse. Well, she’d deal with Mr Lewis. Maybe it would calm her down. She picked up the phone and started to dial his number. But the phone didn’t seem to want to make the call. There was no dialling tone. Just some funny noises. Static, with the odd squeak. Leila put the phone down, waited a moment, then picked it up and tried again. Same result. What was happening? Of course, she could use her mobile, but maybe she wasn’t meant to make the call. Probably better if she didn’t on reflection. Let Medico deal with it.

She went across to the bookshelves by the fireplace and took down one of her scrapbooks. She’d been twelve when she’d started it. Her father had been working on ‘The Phantom Menace’ at the time. She turned over the pages, pictures of her father on set, with mates, and with some of the characters, Chewbacca had his arm round him, while Yoda looked as if he was talking to him.

There were letters to her, he didn’t always get home in the week, with stories about the cast and crew. Some autographs he’d collected. She’d cut them out and stuck them in the book beside a photo of the actor or actress. She’d drawn on some of the pages. Droids, space craft, planets. Herself in a spacesuit. There was a poem, well a piece of verse. Her father had thought it was funny. And there was an essay she’d written for the school magazine about her visit to the set. She’d suddenly become very popular with the boys.

Leila looked at her watch, it was time for the news. She’d have one more go at finding out about Voyager 9 before going to bed. She was lucky, it was the second item in.

American scientists believe they may have made contact with Voyager 9 three months after the craft, with seven crew members on board, went missing. Here’s our science correspondent, Michael Henry. Michael how certain are they that these signals are from Voyager 9?

Well, not very, is the answer, Hugh. The main problem is where the signals, if that’s what they are, are coming from. It’s millions of miles further out in space from the shuttle’s last known position. There is no way under normal circumstances that they could have got so deep into space, and certainly not in three months.

Do the scientists have an explanation?

"Well, yes, but it is only a theory. I’ll try and keep it simple, Hugh. About the time the shuttle disappeared there was what they call a supernova outburst. This happens when a massive star becomes exhausted and runs out of ‘fuel’ so to speak. It collapses very suddenly forming a black hole.

American scientists think that this might have happened on this occasion and that the shuttle literally fell though the hole into deep space. "

Have they spoken to the crew? Do they know if they’re still alive?

Not directly, although Control claims that they’ve heard something that could be a voice. The signals they’re getting seem to be mainly electrical or electronic. A transmitter for example.

If it is Voyager 9, and the crew are still alive, will they be able to get back?

Control aren’t saying anything at the moment, but if, and it’s a big if, they are still alive, I would think the chances of them making it back are very slight.

Leila switched off the television and went into the bedroom. It was dark. She didn’t bother to switch on the lights, or draw the curtains, she liked being alone with the stars. One hundred billion of them in the Galaxy. And because she was so high there was no one who could overlook her. She got into bed and lay thinking about the shuttle until she fell asleep.

Chapter Three

Before she went to work the next morning Leila checked the phone, but the problem seemed to have sorted itself out overnight. At least the temporary fault had stopped her phoning Mr Lewis. She was glad now she hadn’t. Medico wouldn’t have liked it. And anyway she’d forgotten all about him. Voyager 9 had seen to that.

Dr Robinson wants to see you at eleven o’clock, Leila. Mary said when she walked into the call centre.

Do you know what about?

She didn’t say. You know her. She’s not much one for talking. Maybe they want you to take part in some of the trials.

They never ask me. I’d love to be part of it.

Probably worried that they might make their star sales girl ill, or something.

Leila shrugged and went over to her work station. Almost immediately a call came in. Miss Lovelock. Small breasts, hair problems and insomnia.

Medico Herbal Health, Leila speaking, how can I help you today?

Hello, Leila. Its Jill Lovelock. I’d like to put in an order.

Of course, Miss Lovelock what can I send you?

Well, I’d like some more Beta Bust, I think its beginning to work. I think I’ll need a B cup soon.

Page eleven. On the left. A unique, natural mixture of herbs that stimulates changes in the bodies hormones to help develop new breast tissue.

Oh and some more Hair Glo, please. It really helps make my hair shine. She paused.

Page twenty three.

Anything else, Miss Lovelock?

Well, I’ve got a new boyfriend and he’s…well, he’s very…attentive shall we say. She lowered her voice. I think I’d better have some LuvLube.

Page fifteen. Lucky girl, Leila thought.

Right, Miss Lovelock. Is there anything else? Are you alright for EasiSleep?

Miss Lovelock giggled. I don’t need that any more, not with Hassan. He…well, you know. No that’s all, thank you Leila.

That will be eighty-four pounds. Is it your usual MasterCard number, Ms Lovelock? The one ending two seven four one?

Yes.

Right, that’s going through. You should receive everything in the next seven to ten days.

Thanks, Leila. Bye.

Leila took twenty more calls before her break. Some of them lasted longer than others. Her older customers liked to have a bit more of a chat. Mostly about their aches and pains. Leila didn’t mind, it gave her the opportunity to suggest they try this or that. Or introduce a new product. By the time she took her mid-morning break she had sold nearly two thousand pounds worth of Medico products.

At eleven o’clock Leila knocked on Dr Robinson’s office door. She’d have worn something different if she’d known she was going to see one of the Directors. Something a bit smarter. Never mind, Dr Robinson would understand. It didn’t really matter what she wore. The customers couldn’t see her. It was her voice they liked.

Leila wasn’t sure what Dr Robinson did, but now she thought about it, she was sure it was something to do with testing products. Maybe Mary was right and they wanted her to take part in some trials.

Medico was always developing and testing new products, or improving existing ones. Every month a news sheet went to all the staff keeping them up to date with what was going on. They were always asking for employees or their families to volunteer, particularly if they had a particular health problem. A back problem, painful periods or flatulence.

Leila had volunteered several times, but had never been chosen. All she wanted was something that would help her look more attractive. To Leila everything was possible, even if others didn’t share her views. Maybe they were working on something now, maybe that’s why Dr Robinson wanted to see her.

Come in.

Leila went in. She could hardly see Dr Robinson who she remembered was very small. She was sitting behind a big desk that seemed to be covered in papers. There was a lap top to one side and two telephones. There were charts of various parts of the body on the walls and a large bookshelf crammed full of books and lever arch files.

How are you Leila, come in and sit down.

I’m fine, thank you Dr Robinson.

Still breaking all the sales records I see, with that lovely voice of yours.

Leila didn’t know what to say, she got embarrassed when people went on about her voice. She smiled at Dr Robinson, but didn’t say anything.

We’d like you to help us with something, Leila. The trial of a new product. I know you’ve volunteered before, but we’ve never really had anything that matched up with your profile. But this time we might have. Do you still feel the same way about taking part in trials?

Oh, yes. Yes please, Dr Robinson. What’s it for?

Dr Robinson laughed. I can’t tell you that. It doesn’t work that way. I can tell you that you’ll need to undergo a full medical examination by the company doctor. He’ll ask you about any problems you’ve got, and then decide whether you can take part in the trials.

If I don’t know what its for, how will I know if its working?

We’ll know if its working when we re-examine you after a month. You will have to sign a form agreeing to take part in the trial at your own risk and promising not to tell anyone about the tests. There isn’t any risk, Leila, I can promise you that. But we have to make sure we’re covered. You’ve no idea what some people try on. But I’ll talk to you again when we have the results of your examination and take you through the form. Have you got any questions?

I don’t think so. I haven’t been to the doctor for ages, so I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with me.

Well, maybe it’s a good job you’re having a check-up. You can’t be too careful you know.

No, Dr Robinson. Is that it?

It is for now. I’ll get Mary, your supervisor, to fix up a date for the examination.

And that was that. As she was on her way back to her work station Mary handed her a list of clients who wanted her to call them.

You’re in demand today. As always. What did Dr Robinson want, was it about some trials?

Yes.

Good, I’m glad for you.

Thank you, I’d better go and get on. She didn’t know why but Leila didn’t want to talk to anyone about the trials yet. She kept thinking about what Dr Robinson had said, ‘…but this time we might have something that matches your profile.’ Surely that meant something that might make her more attractive. After all that’s what she’d always said she wanted. That must be her profile. And now they had something that matched it. That’s what she’d said.

And then there was the full medical. Of course, they’d have to see exactly what she was like if they were expecting to change her. However were they going to do it? It was like science fiction. But then why not, a few years ago no one believed men would land on the moon. Or what about cloning, or heart transplants. In an article she’d read, Arthur C. Clarke had said, ‘Sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’ Leila was certain that at long last something was going to happen.

She looked down at the list Mary had given her. Mrs Scrutton, varicose veins. Mr Patel, anxiety and hair loss. Ms Prodger, weight loss and snoring. The second item for her husband. It was shocking the noise he made, she said. The list went on. It was a long list. She dialled the first number. She felt excited. She was going to be a princess.

The thought kept her buoyed up all day. She flew through the calls and sold more product than ever. There wasn’t even time to think about Voyager 9

Leila? It was Helen.

Some of us are going out for a drink on Friday night, at the wine bar. Just for a laugh. We wondered if you’d like to come?