Nolan shakes his head vigorously. ‘Not a chance in hell!’
I smile. ‘I thought you might say that. That’s why I took the liberty of consulting with a very nice lawyer at a firm who specialise in representing ethical companies. Clara here put me on to him.’ The woman in question looks at Nolan smugly. ‘They have told me that my friends beside me have grounds to sue you for every penny you’ve got, thanks to your false representation of both the services Viridian PR provides and the company’s future remit.’
I’m pretty sure I got all that right. I certainly rehearsed saying it in the mirror enough this morning.
‘But . . . but . . .’ Nolan chokes.
‘No, Nolan. I’m talking. You listen,’ I reply, the steel having turned into diamond. ‘You have a choice. Either release all of Viridian’s clients from their contracts right now, or face a lawsuit you will lose – and lose extremely hard.’
Nolan sneers at me. ‘And if I do release them, what are they going to do, eh? Where are they going to go? Nobody is dumb enough to run a PR company like this. Not for very long, anyway. Most people just don’t care enough about the environment.’
I sit back in the chair. ‘All of Viridian PR’s clients have agreed to become clients of What We Can PR.’
‘Who the hell are What We Can PR?’
I slowly raise one hand, extend my index finger and point it at my chest.
The kids in Sean’s class came up with the name, in a brainstorming session that took half an hour and descended into giggles on more than one occasion. They said I should call my business something that anyone can understand . . . something nice and simple. Something that says what I want to do for the planet. What everyone should be doing.
They told me, and I listened.
Nolan laughs. The bastard actually laughs at me. ‘You? You’re going to start your own company?’
‘Yes.’
‘Ha! And where are you going to get the staff to do that?!’
I fold my arms. ‘They’re standing right behind you.’
Nolan quickly turns to see every member of Viridian PR’s team crowded around the office door, staring daggers at him.
Nadia, Amisha and Joseph are right there at the front.
My three musketeers. My colleagues. My friends.
Perfect.
Nolan turns back slowly, and regards me with a look that is . . . quite unexpected, actually.
I think . . . I think it’s grudging admiration.
‘Well, well,’ he says hoarsely. ‘Looks like you’ve strung me up like a fucking kipper.’
Mordred makes a strangled noise from beside me.
I nod though. It feels like the perfect analogy. ‘Yes. It does appear that way.’
He offers me a tight, knowing smile. ‘You think you’re oh-so-clever right now, Ellie. But doing this kind of thing? It’s nowhere near as easy as you think it is.’
‘Possibly not.’
‘You’ll fail, you know. I’ve seen it happen time and time again.’
‘Maybe.’ I rise from the chair. ‘And maybe not. But however it goes, Nolan, I’ll know one thing.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I’ll be doing it for the right reasons.’
He barks with laughter. ‘Oh my God. You’re delusional! You’ve got no chance!’
‘She’s just taken your entire business away from you in less than a fortnight,’ Petal O’Hare points out. ‘I’d say her chances are much better than you think.’
Nolan Reece has no answer for that.
That’s okay, though. I’m kind of done listening to what he has to say, anyway.
‘Shall we leave, folks?’ I ask my companions. ‘Nolan here has some contracts to release.’
I walk around the desk, very glad to be getting out of there. While this confrontation has gone about as well as could be expected, I don’t particularly want it going on longer than is necessary.
‘Good luck, Ellie,’ Nolan sneers at me. He’s very good at sneering, now all his make-believe, nice-guy bullshit has been laid aside. ‘You’re going to need it. Especially when I get back on my feet.’
Oh . . . a threat. How nice.
I give him a tight grin. ‘I look forward to it, Nolan. I truly do.’
I resist the urge to pat him on the cheek, as I really don’t want to touch him again. Ever.
The impromptu round of applause led by Nadia as I emerge from the office is probably a little much to be honest, but then I guess I am about to become her boss, along with everybody else at Viridian – sorry, at What We Can PR.
Just as well Mordred and Petal are going to let me rent out the nicest of the side buildings on Veganthropy’s estate. I’m going to need the space.
Oh . . .
There’s that flutter of anxiety in my chest.
I’ve been feeling it quite a lot over the past few days. Every time I’ve contemplated what I’m about to do, which is go into business for myself. Actually do the thing that Nolan Reece was pretending to do – run an ethical, environmentally friendly public relations company. One I have no intention of ever selling off to the highest, manspreading bidder.
It should be something I can handle.
I’ve been second-in-command here for the past few months and have done a pretty decent job of it (foam bottles, thirty-seven seconds, and septic tanks notwithstanding). Why shouldn’t I be able to take it one step further and run the whole damn thing myself?
Because he’s right, Ellie. You might fail.
Yes, I might – horrible little voice in my head that I could really do without at times like this – but alternatively, I might not fail. I might succeed.
And even if I don’t . . .
Even if Nolan Reece is right, and it all comes crashing down around me – at least I will know that I tried. Tried to make the world a little better, by helping people who believe that climate change is a real and gigantic threat to our whole planet.
Because that’s what’s important here . . .
Trying.
Not necessarily worrying about the end result – but being on the journey itself.
That’s what convinced me I could start my own PR company – and take on all of these disparate clients, and a group of hard-working staff members.
I don’t have to succeed; I just have to give it my best.
I can’t do everything. I can’t win every battle. I can’t solve every problem.
But I can sure as hell do what I can.
That’s why I went with the name for the company that Sean’s class came up with, because that’s absolutely the philosophy behind it. We’re going to do What We Can to make the world a better place. We’re going to do What We Can to stop climate change and the destruction of our planet.
Just like Irene McClapperty and her composting system.
Okay, she may have had four normal light bulbs in her cottage living room, but in so many other important ways she’s doing what she can.
None of us are perfect. None of us have all the answers, and very few of us can make massive, sweeping changes to our lives. But we can do What We Can.
That’s both the name and the mission statement for my new company.
All of Viridian PR’s ex-clients love it. I should hope they do, given that without them – without their example – I wouldn’t be in a position to name anything. They have irrevocably changed me as a person. Each and every one of them . . . because they’re doing what they can.
And I’m going to keep paying them back for that, by doing the best job that I’m capable of, by providing the best service I can, for as long as I can.
The same goes for my new staff – who are all equally as excited about the prospect of working for What We Can PR as my new clients are about working with us.
I’m not the only one here who has been profoundly affected by the direction Nolan Reece led us in when he took over from Pierre and Peter Rothman. He may have done it for all the wrong reasons, but that doesn’t mean his
contribution to our lives has been any less important.
That’s why I’ve taken his business away from him, instead of getting his clients to sue – and potentially ruin him for life. And that’s why I only thrashed him around the head with a harmless pair of Primark boxer shorts, instead of kicking him square in the testicles. I went soft on him, believe it or not.
Nolan will be back, of that I’m sure. He’s that type. And I may have run-ins with him again. But I’ll be prepared for them when they do come along, of that I’m sure.
However, none of that is a concern right now.
Because I have work to do, with all of these fine people – who are now following me out of the offices of Viridian PR and into a brand-new world.
I just hope I can help make sure that world is around for as long as possible. Because there’s Summer to think about. And Alex. And Jade. And Aiden too – with his finger up his nose, and his brain afire with worry about what the adults are doing to stop the disastrous climate change going on around him.
I’ll do what I can, because that’s what they’ve asked me to do.
That’s all I’m capable of.
. . . but that might just be enough.
I hope you feel the same way.
Do what you can. The rest will come in time.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book-writing business never gets any easier, let me assure you of that. Without the help of a great many good and kind people, I would probably have collapsed into a pile of neuroses a long time ago.
Therefore, my thanks go to: everyone at Amazon Publishing, for continuing to give me money in exchange for the contents of my brain. My agent Ariella, for making sure those contents make at least some sort of sense. My mother Judy, for – you know – just being my mum. All of my close friends, especially the ones who read these books of mine. And finally, as always, my wife Gemma – the world around us may be in a bit of a state, but my world will always be amazing, as long as she’s in it.
. . . oh yes, and you lot. Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten about you – my fabulous readers. Thank you for continuing to buy my books. I remain entirely honoured that you choose to do it.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2017 Chloe Waters
Nick Spalding is the bestselling author of fifteen novels, two novellas and two memoirs. Nick worked in media and marketing for most of his life before turning his energy to his genre-spanning humorous writing. He lives in the south of England with his wife.
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