by Jane Fallon
I think about all the lies Roz has told me, about her fabulous adventures. I have no idea what her life actually is.
‘Why is it so bad?’ I sit down on the step next to her. Dee towers over the two of us.
Hattie looks at me as if she’s unsure what to say, but then I think she decides she has nothing to lose. ‘I don’t have a sick mum, but I guess you’ve worked that out already …’
I nod. ‘You just said that so I’d like the fact I’d have the flat to myself at weekends if you moved in.’
‘Yes. But the reason we thought of it is because Roz does …’
I look at Dee. I don’t know whether to believe this or not, but I can’t see what Hattie would have to gain from lying at this point. ‘Since when?’
‘She’s been ill for years, but it’s got worse recently. She needs to go into full-time care really, but she just refuses to. It’s not fair on Roz, I don’t think.’
I’m so confused. ‘I had no idea. So she’s the one who has to go down to stay with her in Eastbourne at weekends?’
Hattie looks at the ground as if she’s deciding how much detail she should tell us. ‘Um … no. Her mum lives with her. In the flat.’
‘In Shepherd’s Bush?’ I think about the scruffy building, the curtains coming away from the rails. ‘No way. Her parents are well off. They must be. She went to that posh school.’
‘She did. And then her dad died when she was at uni and it turned out he owed loads of money and he hadn’t made any provision … and then her mum got sick. She couldn’t afford to pay for carers full time so Roz insisted she moved in with her. That was about six years ago, and she’s still there. You know when the two of you go to the pub after work? That’s about the extent of her social life. Do you know how hard it is to hang on to your friends when you have to say no to everything all the time?’
‘I don’t understand …’ I say. Understatement of the year. Even though I knew Roz’s anecdotes were all fabrications I assumed she had friends. A life. She’s funny, smart, gorgeous. How could she not? ‘She has you, you’re her friend …’
Hattie looks at me. Shrugs. ‘I’m her cousin.’
I stare at her elfin face. I can see it, a vague likeness around the eyes. Not enough that I could ever have guessed, but it’s there.
‘Why would she never have told anyone what was going on?’ Dee says impatiently. ‘It makes no sense.’
‘She didn’t talk about it to anyone except me really. I remember her telling me she’d never told anyone at work because she didn’t want you feeling sorry for her. She didn’t want to be “the one who cares for her sick mum”. She just wanted to get on with her job and be able to forget about what was happening at home.’
I put my head in my hands. I’d been intending to tell Hattie about Roz’s fake life, to expose her as a pathetic liar. Fantasist even. But the wind has been taken out of my sails.
‘Think about it,’ Hattie says, looking at me. ‘You’ve got a lovely flat, a daughter, you can do whatever you want, whenever you want. And now you have the job …’
‘And she thought that wasn’t fair?’ I think I’m beginning to understand.
Hattie shrugs. ‘I don’t think it was as calculated as that. I think she just wanted one area of her life that was a success. Something that was hers –’
Dee interrupts. ‘It still doesn’t excuse anything she’s done. Anything either of you have done.’
‘I know. You don’t have to tell me that,’ Hattie says, looking at the ground. ‘I’m sorry. I really am. I actually loved living at your place, Holly. I didn’t mean it about moving out because of Ashley …’
Dee waves an arm at me. ‘You nearly lost her her job.’
‘It’s OK, Dee,’ I say. Because it is. It might not have been, but it is.
‘Why did you move out so quickly if you didn’t know we were on to you?’ Dee says, determined to leave no detail unchecked.
Hattie looks up at her. ‘Roz sent me a text saying something had happened at work and I should just get out, because it had all gone to shit. I would have been gone at the end of this week otherwise, anyway.’
I swallow. ‘Once my probation was up. Once my job had been taken away from me.’
‘Yes,’ she says in a voice so small I can hardly hear her.
We leave her sitting there. There’s nothing else to be said.
‘Roz is like some kind of weird guru,’ Dee says as we walk off. ‘It’s like she can hypnotize people into doing whatever she wants.’
‘I can’t take it in,’ I say. ‘How could I not have known she was dealing with all that?’
I’m reeling from what Hattie told me. I think of Roz the peacock, all dressed up with nowhere to go. Spending her evenings and weekends looking after her mother. Watching life go on without her. It makes me feel like crying.
41
Roz doesn’t come back to work the following day. Or the day after. No one wants to call her to find out what’s going on, including Lorraine who flops around as if she’s had the stuffing knocked out of her. She does go through Roz’s list of episodes though, completely unbidden, and makes a list of what’s due to be done and by when. I tell her I’m grateful and I mean it. The department meeting is scheduled for Wednesday. It’s in Glen’s diary, but he doesn’t show up. I carry on as if everything is normal, and everyone plays along. No one brings up what’s happened. It’s as if we’ve all signed a confidentiality agreement.
The atmosphere is still charged though. Glen hardly leaves his office so it feels as if we’re on a rudderless ship but cruise control takes over and everything gets done somehow. And then on Thursday two things happen. I get an email from HR telling me that Roz Huntingdon has handed in her notice and opted to take unpaid leave for the duration. She will not be coming back. As relieved as I am I can’t help feeling a pang of worry about how she’ll make ends meet.
And Glen calls me into his office.
I actually feel sick as I walk along the corridor. There’s no way he can know that it was me who filmed him and Roz together but I’m worried my face will give it away. I knock on his door.
‘Come in.’
Glen is sitting behind his desk looking not quite as well groomed as usual.
‘Take a seat.’ He gives me a slightly desperate smile. I imagine he thinks we’re all laughing at him behind his back – and I’m sure some people are – but all most of us want is for everything to go back to normal.
I sit, nervously.
‘So, good news,’ he says, cutting straight to the chase. My anxiety lifts a little. I swallow and it makes a noise like a frog, my mouth is so dry. ‘I’ve been talking to HR and I can confirm that your position is being made permanent.’
Despite everything, a huge grin spreads over my face. I’ve done it. ‘Thank you.’
Glen smiles back and this time it seems genuine. ‘Congratulations. You deserve it.’
I want to ask if he now knows I was innocent of all Roz’s charges. I don’t want to think there’s a doubt hanging over me. But somehow I think he does.
Back in the script department I give them the good news, and I also let them know that Roz won’t be returning.
‘It’s her own decision,’ I say.
Juliet, Joe and Emma all suddenly look visibly younger. As if a heavy weight has been lifted. Ding dong, the witch is dead. They cheer and grab me in a group hug, and I feel a bit overwhelmed. Only Lorraine looks lost. I reach out an arm and pull her into the group.
‘It’ll be OK,’ I whisper in her ear.
42
Six weeks later
I hear a pop and then a cheer. We’re toasting again. There’s Prosecco being passed around and Glen is about to make a speech.
I look around my department. Juliet is blushing red, uncomfortable with all the attention. Joe holds his glass high, Emma clinks glasses with her fizzy water and even Lorraine – back now to her old way of dressing, no more clashing colours, no more red glasses and pink lips
tick – joins in with the congratulations. I wonder, as I’ve done a few times lately, how well I really know these people. I spend all day with them – our department is a happy place now – but do I actually know who they really are?
So much has changed, I hardly know where to start. Once Roz announced she wasn’t coming back we had two vacant script editor positions to fill – mine and hers. I decided to give Lorraine a chance. Without Roz around she had been forced to mix more with the rest of us, to lose the cynical sneer she’d hidden behind, and she’s actually turned out to be a hard worker, an asset. She has the talent. I think she’ll do well.
We all leaned on Emma to interview for the other slot, and she found out last week that she’s got it. She’s a different person – although I still have to keep stopping her from offering to make everyone tea all the time – a confident, more comfortable version of her old sweet self. She has a presence that she didn’t have before. She and Lorraine are becoming good friends – who’d have thought it? – and helping each other navigate their new responsibilities.
But the reason for our celebrations today is a much bigger deal. Glen has decided to move on. Whether it was entirely his decision or he was helped out of the door I’m not sure. He doesn’t seem to have anything else lined up; he says he needs some time off, a chance to regroup.
‘I think we might go travelling for a while,’ he said when he told me. The announcement had not yet been made, and he asked me to keep the news to myself. I was desperate to ask him whether he’d kept in touch with Roz, but I knew it was none of my business.
In the end he told me without me having to ask.
‘I owe you an apology,’ he said. We were sitting in his office at the end of the day. ‘I should have taken your comments about Roz more seriously.’
I didn’t know what to say. I was happy he’d reached this conclusion but there was no doubt he’d let me down. ‘It’s all in the past now,’ was all I could come up with.
He cleared his throat. ‘I … um … it only happened the once …’
‘You don’t need to tell me …’ I said, feeling uncomfortable. I didn’t know where to look so I studied a stain on the coffee table. I was curious to know but I really didn’t want the details.
He wasn’t finished though. ‘I realized straight away that she was just trying to make sure I’d be on her side. I should never have … I’m ashamed of myself for being such a clichéd fool, if you really want to know. Anyway, I want to spend some time with my family. Put it all behind me.’
‘Good for you,’ I said. I meant it. He wasn’t a bad man. I couldn’t imagine he’d ever get himself in that position again. He was just swept away by the force of her spotlight. As was Lorraine. As was I.
That afternoon I got an email from Karen in HR. Top Secret. Fay had been appointed as Glen’s successor. Which meant there would be a producer position becoming vacant and she would strongly suggest I applied for it if I was interested.
I wrote back to say that I was very flattered to be considered but that I wanted to give my current position a fair crack. I wanted to enjoy it and to try to do the best job I could. I’d barely had the chance to think straight since I’d been promoted. There would be another opportunity in the future.
I asked her if Juliet knew. If maybe she should mention it to her. She’d be fabulous, I said. She had years more TV experience than me, and the cast loved her.
So, to cut a long story short, that’s what we’re celebrating today. Juliet’s promotion. She beat off all the external candidates easily, according to Glen. I’m thrilled for her. She’s become my friend, my ally. I owe her a lot.
And now there will be a whole other round of interviews – to replace her, to find a new trainee, a new assistant. The department is in chaos but it’s thriving. Everyone is pitching in. It’s like the spirit of the Blitz with less bombing. And it’s just what the show needs. I’m excited about the future.
43
Dee is waiting for me on a bench at the top of Parliament Hill. At her feet is a – well, I don’t know what he is – part lurcher, part hyena, part warthog by the looks of him. This is Rufus. Dee and Gavin’s new addition, rescued from the streets of Romania. Baby substitute? Yes. Heartbreakingly adorable canine? Definitely.
He wags his tail half-heartedly a couple of times when he sees me. He’s still nervous with people he doesn’t know so well, still wary. But he has fallen for Dee and Gavin like they’re the saviours he’s been waiting for all his life. Which I suppose they are. When they go to work, the neighbours tell them, he howls like a dysfunctional wolf. She’s worried they might have to move. Or give up work to stay home with him and starve to death.
I reach down and gently pat his head. He flattens his ears and goes rigid.
Dee stands up and gives me a hug.
‘How’s he doing?’
‘Getting there,’ she says, looking down at him proudly. ‘It’s going to take a while.’
We sit looking out over London, Rufus at our feet. He sighs contentedly.
‘Ashley’s moving home,’ I say.
Dee’s head whips round to face me. ‘Oh my God, that’s fantastic. It is, isn’t it?’
I nod, unable to keep the smile from my face. ‘It is.’
I told Ashley the whole story of everything that had gone on at work as soon as I heard my job was secure. It felt wrong to keep it from her. She was about to have a baby and I needed to start thinking of her as an adult.
‘Shit, Mum, why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I didn’t want to worry you,’ I said. I was in my kitchen, blissfully enjoying knowing the flat was my own again. I knew I was going to have to put another advert in though. I needed a lodger or I couldn’t help Ashley pay her way.
‘Well, that’s just stupid,’ she said indignantly. ‘All I do is worry you. The least you could do is reciprocate.’
I laughed. ‘It’s all sorted itself out now anyway.’
‘You should be proud of yourself,’ she said. ‘I know that goes against every facet of your personality.’
‘Do you know what, I am. I’ve decided to become an insufferable show-off.’
‘Go for it.’
There was a silence for a second.
‘Mum,’ she said in that way that always makes me instantly anxious.
‘Yes?’
‘I’ve been thinking. It’s crazy for you to have to rent out a room just to help me pay the rent. I mean, you have an empty room. I can’t afford to pay to live anywhere any more …’
I actually felt my heart skip a beat. ‘What are you saying?’
‘Can I move back? I mean, it’s nice at Brooke’s and she’s pretty cool about the idea of having a baby about the place, but, I don’t know, it seems a bit mad …’
I want to say ‘Yes. Of course. Come now’ but I need to know she’s asking for the right reasons.
‘What about all your friends? And your job?’
‘I’m due to finish work in a few weeks anyway. And it’s not like they’re going to hold my position open for me. I’m a part-time barmaid. And most of my friends have moved away. There’s only Brooke really. Plus I still have friends in London, you know.’
‘And what about Ryan?’
She huffed. ‘What about him? Do you know I haven’t even heard from him? And if he ever decides he wants to see the baby it wouldn’t be as if we were on the other side of the world.’
‘I don’t want you doing this because you’re worried about me,’ I said. ‘I’m fine. I can cope with another lodger. I just need to make sure I find one who isn’t friends with anyone I work with.’
There was a silence for a second.
‘I need you, Mum. I don’t want to do this on my own.’
I blinked back tears. ‘Then yes, of course you can.’
‘I can babysit,’ Dee says now. ‘I can be Auntie Dee and spoil her rotten.’
‘Be careful what you wish for. Is he good with kids, do you know?’ I nod down at a n
ow sleeping Rufus.
‘I have no idea.’
As if on cue a couple with a toddler walk past. The toddler coos at the dog. Dee and I sit coiled for action, ready to spring if she gets too close. Dee holds tight to Rufus’s lead.
‘We’re not sure how he is with kids,’ she says to the parents, who are following their daughter over to say hello. ‘We only just got him.’
The mother smiles and goes to take the little girl’s hand to lead her away, just as Rufus opens his eyes and sees her there. He leaps up, tail swinging backwards and forwards like a rudder. He practically bounces on the spot he’s so happy.
‘He seems OK,’ the mother says. The dad goes to scruffle his head and he cowers a bit but then he walks over to the little girl and puts his head on her shoulder. She laughs and pats his ears. His tail is practically a blur.
‘Well, look at that,’ Dee says. ‘He’s a natural.’
44
Ashley arrives with a huge bump and a car full of all her worldy goods. We unload it slowly, stopping between each trip for a sit down or a cup of tea on the patio. It’s ninety degrees out and has been for what seems like weeks. The country is in party mode. For once you can plan an event outside and know that the weather will be fine. The whole capital smells of barbeque.
‘Have you heard from Ryan yet?’ I say, pouring what’s left of my tea into a pot of geraniums out the back. I’m trying to conserve water like a good citizen.
She shakes her head. ‘His mum called me though, so I gave her your address. They’ll probably come and meet the baby when she’s born, even if he doesn’t.’
‘And how do you feel about that?’ I move the umbrella to give her more shade.
‘Them coming?’
‘Him not coming.’
‘Oh.’ She thinks about it for a second. ‘All right actually. I did OK without a dad, didn’t I?’
I want to say ‘If he does decide he wants to have a relationship with the baby, don’t stand in his way though’, but I don’t want to lecture her the minute she’s arrived. She’ll work it out.