Harriet Evans - Happily Ever After

Rory was frowning. ‘We should have gone for it, Pose. It’s lunacy to be turning it down. Don’t listen to her.’

The woman ignored him and walked towards Elle. ‘Eleanor? Welcome! I’m Posy. Nice to meet you. Sorry not to have before. So glad you’re here!’ She was pretty, rather flustered looking, with pink cheeks and thin hair which curled tentatively at her neck and behind her ears; she looked the way a Posy should. ‘Now –’ She pulled up a chair and sat down next to Elle at her desk. ‘Let’s go through some things, shall we?’ She smiled, and ran her hands over her forehead. ‘You’ve met—’

‘Hey, Posy, give the kid a chance.’ Rory stood behind her and put his hand on Posy’s shoulder. ‘Hi, Eleanor. Great to see you again. Welcome. Has Libby been showing you the ropes? You should cultivate her, even if she is a bit stroppy and supports a rubbish football team.’

Libby, who had carried on typing throughout this exchange, could obviously hear enough of it through her headphones, as she raised one palm. ‘Talk to the hand,’ she said.

‘Rory,’ Posy said. ‘Why don’t I run Eleanor through some stuff, take her round and introduce her to people.’

‘Good idea, very good idea,’ Rory said. ‘We can take her to lunch afterwards.’

There was a slight pause. ‘Well …’ said Posy. ‘Abigail Barrow’s just delivered and I have to – I can’t really.’ She turned to Elle. ‘Sorry, Elle. We’ll take you out another time.’

‘Oh, no, please, I’ll be fine,’ Elle said hurriedly. She couldn’t imagine anything worse, sitting with her bosses making small talk. And anyway, she wanted to fulfil her cherished lunch plan: find a Pret A Manger, have a sandwich, and sit in a park with the Evening Standard like a proper office worker.

Rory leaned forward. ‘I’ll clear out. Why don’t we have a chat after Posy’s finished with you. We’re really glad you’re here,’ he said. ‘It’s a nightmare, getting used to things. I hated it, when I first started.’

‘Were you a secretary?’ Elle asked.

Posy gave a snort of laughter. ‘Rory! That’s a good one. He’s never sent a fax in his life. Now, come on, Elle, let’s—’

‘Only ever worked at Foyles and here, for my sins,’ Rory said, ignoring her. He grimaced. ‘I’m nepotism in human form, you know. My mother wanted me to be involved in the business, and – well, I love books, of course, though we need to change. It’s an interesting time to be in the game.’

‘“The game”,’ Posy scoffed, sitting back down again. ‘Rory’s very flash, Eleanor. I’m staid and boring and like actually editing my books and building authors. Rory has a horror of the mid-list and he only likes authors who look attractive in photos.’

‘Like Paris Donaldson,’ Elle said seriously, but was surprised when Posy roared with laughter and Rory, after a second of looking annoyed, slapped his hands on the desk and joined in.

‘She’s sharp, that one,’ Rory said. ‘Yes, like Paris Donaldson, exactly. All the guys wanna be like him, all the girls love him. Gold dust.’

‘I think he’s a prick,’ said Posy. ‘But we don’t agree about anything, do we, Rory?’

‘No, my love,’ Rory answered easily. ‘We don’t. I’ll leave you two to it. Good luck again, Elle.’

He wandered off, whistling. Elle saw the look Posy gave as her eyes followed him. ‘Er …’ she said, after a moment. ‘Right, let’s get on with it.’

By lunchtime, Elle was ready for food, and she could have done with a large drink, too. Her head was buzzing. She had been walked through everything by Posy, who would say, ‘It’s very important you don’t forget to do this,’ and, ‘Please make sure you always check this extremely carefully ,’ but if Elle was honest she hadn’t understood about seventy-five per cent of what she’d been told. Posy kept explaining things and Elle kept writing them down in her ring-bound notebook, sentences that didn’t seem to make any sense.

You need to keep an eye on Jews to make sure you don’t run out of stock didn’t look right, in fact it looked downright disturbing.

When proof covs come in from prod send 1 to agent 2 to the author, with note from Posy pp me file the other two, one in the author file, one in the covs circ file. What did this mean?

If Ed Victor or Abner Stein phones get Posy immediately. No matter where she is. If someone called Lorcan phones put him on hold and find P or Tony, don’t let him ring off, impossible to track down.

But if woman called Georgina King phones saying she’s a MyHeart author and she has the support of the RNA, get rid of her. Do not put her through to P. She is a lunatic. Elle had nodded and stuck a Post-it on the bottom of her monitor with ‘Georgina King Lunatic’ in large letters, trying to look as though she was On It. Finally Posy said, ‘Is that all starting to make some sense? Is there anything you’re not clear on? I know it must seem a bit overwhelming, but just ask if there’s anything. Really important you ask.’

Just ask . Elle was so used to hearing that, in every job she’d had, temping, summer jobs, Saturday jobs. Just ask. It was a load of rubbish. They never meant it. If you did pluck up the courage to ask they looked at you as if you’d just been sick all over them. And where should she start, anyway? RNA? Grid? Jews? But this time she had to try. She took a deep breath. Which should she pick?

‘Who’s Lorcan?’ she asked.

‘Lorcan?’ Posy nodded. ‘He’s the model we use on nearly every MyHeart cover. Big muscly guy, long hair, white teeth, you know the kind. He’s almost as popular as the actual books. We’re always trying to pin him down for shoots and he’s never around. So when we can get hold of him, we have to cling on for dear life. He’s the bane of Tony’s life.’ Elle looked blank. ‘Tony the art director. Look, why don’t I take you round to meet everyone now?’

She walked Elle around the floor, briskly introducing her to a sea of faces Elle knew she’d never remember. People were friendly but uninterested. When Posy said things like, ‘Sam’s the marketing assistant, she works with Jeremy, our marketing director,’ Elle would smile and nod, though she actually wanted to shout, ‘I’ve no idea what’s going on! I can’t shake your hand because I’ve sweated through my stupid new jumper and you’ll see my armpits are wet!’

‘Fetch your jacket and I’ll walk out to lunch with you. I need to get a sandwich too.’

Elle swivelled around and realised she had no idea where she actually sat, she had lost her bearings completely. Posy looked at her as if she were a complete moron.

‘I’m sorry,’ Elle whispered. ‘Just a bit confused, can’t remember where I’m going.’

Something in Posy’s expression changed. ‘You poor thing. I remember what it was like, my first day in my first job. I cried in the loos.’

Now I want to remember where the loos are and go and cry in them, Elle thought.

‘SO THEY’RE ALL nice, then?’

Elle took another sip of her wine. ‘I think so. They seemed nice. Rory’s really funny. Posy’s a bit strait-laced, but I think she’s OK.’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘I’m exhausted. It’s mental, first day at a job, you have no idea what you’re doing or where anything is.’

‘You’ll get used to it.’ Karen patted her arm. ‘You’ll be brilliant.’

‘Oh, thanks.’ Elle smiled affectionately at her old friend. ‘And Karen, thank you so much for having me to stay.’ She glanced at Alex and Cara, who were next to them, whispering to each other – Alex and Cara had one of those tedious ‘flirty relationships’ where everyone around them wanted to tell them to just get on with it and shag. ‘I know I’ve outstayed my welcome. I’m really grateful to you, to all of you.’