Writers' Nexus

Shane Carter – 27, good-looking, honourable, single and rich. A scion of Norwich, Shane left at 16 to seek his fortune in the big, bad world of London ad agencies. His great charm and prolific creativity enabled him to do just that. A multimillionaire at 17½, Shane returned to his birthplace to found Cartercorps, East Anglia’s premier advertising powerhouse. Home for Shane is a state-of-the-art penthouse in a new riverside development. His wheels come courtesy of the Prancing Horse. He drips with designer labels. Yes, Shane Carter is one serious fanny-magnet – and he knows it. But there lurks a hollowness at the heart of his being, a sense that it’s all a sham, that advertising is a worthless activity, that life would be preferable doing an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay, his cheery, honest gal Betsy by his side, kids playing in the backyard etc… etc… This side of him comes to the fore when he’s had a few drinks.

Should really have been born American, in 1880, and carved out a living as a frontiersman. Deeply, crushingly dull when pissed.

Wayne Carter – 31, good-looking, dishonourable, married and not-quite-so-rich. A partner in Cartercorps, his 49% share of the business makes him almost – but not quite – as much money as his younger sibling. By rights he ought to be grateful for the opportunity – Wayne possesses not even a smidgin of talent for anything except office politics (at which he is an expert). However, so bitter and twisted is he that the firm’s success is at once a blessing and a curse. Spends his “working” life ricocheting between two extremes: trying to make more and more money (where possible at his brother’s expense) while trying simultaneously to send Cartercorps down the toilet. No wonder he’s warped. Works out his mountainous frustrations by doing unspeakably dirty things to long-suffering (and barren) wife Sonya in the privacy of their 8-bedroom executive-style Barratt home.

But the really weird part is, however reprehensible Wayne’s behaviour is, Shane can’t – or won’t – see it. To Shane, Wayne is, and always will be, the older brother to look up to.

Duane Carter – 40-ish, impossible-looking and totally out to lunch. Half-brother to the other two, Duane should have had it all (what there was of it; I momentarily forgot there, Shane’s a self-made man); however, a bizarre yoyo-ing accident aged 10 left him a permanently gibbering wreck. His occasional gnomic pronouncements are greeted by the rest of the family as piercing insights, idiot savant-style, though really what they are are haphazard, meaningless noodlings; he just gets lucky once in a while. Divides his time (or it’s divided for him) between the lunatic and sheltered accommodation. Understandably confused as to where he lives, as do-gooder Shane keeps bringing him back into the community while callous Wayne keeps having him put away.

Binty Carter – 18, fresh-faced, innocent-looking, shags anything with a pulse. Norwich’s answer to Paris Hilton. Has had all of Shane’s mates, and most of Wayne’s (not that he has many), and has even been known to “entertain” friends of their late father, Duane Sr [a figure whose presence (or absence) still looms large over the Carter clan, though he passed away the night Binty was born. “He was”, said the vicar, “that rare breed: a father who died in childbirth.”] In her single-minded quest for sexual satisfaction, Binty sets brother against brother and father against son with wilful disregard. Works at Cartercorps as a general dogsbody. Some say “body”; others say “dog”.

Sonya Carter – 32 and a shadow of the great beauty she once was. Though she has all the material things a woman could want, there is no question that she married beneath her. Has suffered greatly at the hands of Wayne, to whom she’s been married since she turned 22. Though she never speaks of her torment, leaves people in no doubt as to the extent of her misery – nor of her (comparative) nobility. As her mother used to say: “silence speaks volumes.” Observers would say that Sonya’s greatest disappointment is her inability to have children – even by the boorish Wayne. They would be wrong; better to ask, why has she stayed married to the oaf all these years? The answer is to stay close to Shane, who (of course) she’s been secretly in love with all this time, and who (of course) either (a) wouldn’t notice if she dropped down dead at his feet, or (b) feels the same way about her, but doesn’t know that’s how she feels about him, or (c) feels the same way about her, but won’t admit it to himself for fear of hurting his “heroic” elder brother. This, of course, may change week to week.

Margaret “Ma” Carter – 62 years old, and the matriarch behind the Carter clan. Half way between Meg Mortimer and Miss Ellie Ewing. Despite her relative youth, carries on like she’s 100: “In my day…”, “You young tearaways…” and “What’s the world coming to?” are her three favourite expressions. Dispenser of indispensable advice to her offspring, all of which is entirely dispensable. If you see what I mean. Likes to reminisce about her life with Duane Sr, but won’t allow any mention of her predecessor, “the first Mrs Carter”. Much mystery surrounds Grace (for it is she). Is she dead? Divorced and living in seclusion on Scolt Head Island? Being held captive somewhere? Maybe in this very house? Whatever, her ghost (if such it is) hangs heavy over “Mardua”, the ranch-style farmhouse where Ma still resides.

Other, secondary, characters:

Ellen Stackton – senior account executive. Single, career-driven (or is she?) 39. Tall. Bottle-blonde. A tad overweight. Likes a drink. Or two. But hey! She can handle it.

Tony Rockham – account manager. 28. Long-term partner, Michelle. Ambitious. Smooth. Likes “new” stuff: the latest mobile phone, the most up-to-the-minute laptop, that kind of thing.

Jade Budgen – creative director. 27. Very nearly Shane’s equal in many ways, but more reactive than proactive (nice piece of ad-speak there). Married, one child, Lucy, 2½. Often comes in a bit late, or leaves a bit early, due to “problems with the childminder”.

Frank Haslett – bookkeeper. I’m not sure that an advertising behemoth like Cartercorps would employ a bookkeeper; surely an accountant, or company secretary, or even a finance director would be more the ticket? No matter; I knew a bookkeeper called Frank, so a bookkeeper Frank shall be. 63. Works part-time. Widowed. Zip-up cardies with leather elbow patches and those front panel things. Likes a flutter on the National, the Derby and the Gold Cup.

Jayel Besomster – senior copywriter. Romanian. Age: indeterminate, but certainly very old. Tenuous grasp of English, despite having lived in the UK for the past 40 years. This has an adverse effect on his copy, as you might expect, but Shane continues to make allowances for him. Why? Who knows? Single, but shares his house with Tom, the latest in a succession of young, fit, handsome “lodgers”.

Other characters can and will be introduced on a whim, or to fit in with plot demands, and will disappear again just as quickly.

© Jonathan Broom 2006