This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to real people, whether living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Gerald Wilson loved driving his Mustang aggressively, pushing the pedal to the metal, braking noisily on tight corners and gunning the engine as he straightened out again.
Growing up as a teenager in Scotland, Gerry had admired Ford's pony cars from afar. He was delighted when the Americans finally got around to selling Mustangs in the UK. Now in his early thirties, working as a criminal defence lawyer in Glasgow, Gerry didn't hesitate for even a nanosecond to part with a large chunk of his annual bonus, splashing out on a shadow black, top-of-the-range Mustang V8 GT Fastback with dark tinted windows and a 32 valve 5 litre engine packing 415 bhp and a top speed of 155 mph.
Gerry had considered opting for the convertible version, but the hardtop was better suited to Scotland's maritime climate. The high price of fuel and the Mustang's low mpg, plus the hefty annual road tax, made the running costs astronomical. And then there was the cost of having the car washed, waxed and valeted once a week. But all that didn't bother Gerry. As a partner in his father's law firm, he was able to reclaim very generous reimbursements of business expenses and he got a kick from knowing that not one single penny of the car's running costs came out of his six figure annual salary, not even the occasional parking ticket.
Gerry drove everywhere in his Mustang, absolutely certain it was attracting admiring gazes from pretty young ladies and jealous glances from envious young men. His need to have his Mustang admired meant he often parked the car directly outside the office building in the city centre where he worked, even though he had a reserved parking space in the building's underground car park. At home he invariably left the Mustang sitting on the driveway of his four bedroom townhouse in the city's west end, even though he had plenty of spare space in the double garage attached to the house.
The Mustang was far more than simply a vehicle to get Gerry from A to B. Gerry saw it as an extension of himself. He considered himself meaner, faster and more powerful than other people and the car's appetite for fuel was a metaphor for his own hunger for success. Gerry had admired and test driven some very fine examples of other top car marques, including Ferraris and Lambos, but they were all too overstated in his estimation. The gleaming black Mustang was his true soulmate and his most prized possession.
Gerry's wife had to get used to living with a man-child when they first got together and she knew better than to get between him and his favourite toy. They were unencumbered by children and it was likely to remain that way, something Sally occasionally regretted, but she was well aware Gerry was not cut out to be a family man.
Sally Masterson and Gerry Wilson first met as guests at a so-called 'society' wedding, where wealth was on ostentatious display. The beautiful bride was the offspring of aristocracy, the venue for the wedding reception was a castle, most of the men wore kilts and the women wore haute couture outfits. Photographs of the bride and groom were later published in a very boring glossy magazine for the admiration of women in hairdressers' salons the length and breadth of the country.
Sally wasn't an aristocrat or from the nouveau riche set. Her family was modestly middle class, but she was one of the bride's many female acquaintances from their student days. Now in their late twenties, the cream of these vivacious, young and attractive women had been invited to the wedding by the bride's family in an effort to counterbalance the contingent of elderly aunts, great aunts, step-aunts and second or third cousins. For his part, the bridegroom ensured the guest list included plenty of good looking young men to match the beautiful young women.
Gerry was very taken with Sally from the minute they met at the wedding reception. Tall and elegant, she was the epitome of a cool blonde. Dark-haired and handsome, Gerry was an accomplished conversationalist and Sally found herself drawn to him. He was never far from her that evening, taking time to dance with her and charming her with his conversational ability and keen wit. Other people noticed his attentions were focused on her and more than one of Sally's girlfriends remarked to her that he looked like he would make a good catch.
In the weeks and months that followed Gerry and Sally dated, became a couple and started living together in Gerry's townhouse. Their social lives were caught up in a maelstrom of weddings of friends and acquaintances and it seemed only natural that they should follow their friends' examples and tie the knot.
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Newly married, Sally had initially enjoyed a life of self-indulgence and meaningless activities while Gerry went off to do lawyerly stuff at his father's firm. However, with a qualification in business management she was no dumb blonde and she quickly began to feel unfulfilled, bored and restless. Now, five years later, she was a well-respected commercial director and partner in a small advertising agency, with a vibrant, high-paced business life of her own.
The key to business success for Sally was her ability to connect with her clients' targeted audience and get that audience to buy into the client's message. Easy to say, but not so easy to do when the world is awash with bullshit and people have the attention span of a newt. However, using a range of social media, inspirational creative ideas and imaginative graphic design, Sally and her colleagues had carved out a niche for themselves with some prize-winning campaigns for Scottish food and drink manufacturers.
Sally considered graphic design to be an art form. She was disappointed, but unsurprised when a talented member of her graphic design team found it impossible to resist the lure of more money and a high profile job at a leading agency in London. Filling the vacant post was a priority, but Sally needed someone with both artistic skills and creative ideas, so she set aside a full day to interview six candidates. Although they all looked good enough on paper, she felt uninspired by the first five during the face-to-face interviews.
The final interviewee that afternoon suspected he might have been invited along simply to make up the numbers. Stuart Andrews had graduated a few years earlier and had been working in local government since then, producing images and designs for campaigns to connect public services with local communities. His experience was comparatively limited, but he was ambitious. He knew this interview was an opportunity to take a big step up and build a career in the world of commercial advertising.
Sally was amazed by the portfolio of work Stuart showed her at interview. She had been expecting some boring examples of public signage. Instead, it was abundantly clear that Stuart had done his homework and he showed Sally some inspirational images of brands and products that belonged to some of her key clients. His illustrations of chocolate bar wrappings were more than simply eye-catching. He had used a chequered pattern of bright colours on a black background to produce a series of clear-cut images for chocolate bars with a range of fillings, including mint, bitter orange, caramel, chilli and coconut.
Sally took an immediate liking to Stuart. As the interview progressed it was apparent the two of them were on the same page, in terms of both the commercial focus and the creative direction the agency required.
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