Lyre

by Helen Harper

  ‘What I wouldn’t give…’ sighed one of the girls in front of her.

  ‘Yeah,’ her friend agreed.

  Yuri hugged her arms around herself and returned to looking out of the window.

  CHAPTER TWO

  LONDON, 2014

  Yuri sat at her desk chewing absentmindedly on a pen. This month’s edition of Yell had just been put to bed. Already there was a flurry of activity as the writing staff rushed to put in their bids for articles for the February edition, now only three months away. December and January were set in stone. Yuri’s contribution for January was a fluff piece about New Year’s resolutions. December was even worse; she’d been allotted three paragraphs on where to buy fabulous accessories for party dresses. She wouldn’t have minded really, after all she was fully aware what kind of magazine Yell was and who it catered for. But the writing had involved nothing more than describing what was available at the most generous stores. Most generous as in the ones who ‘donated’ the most fashion to Yell’s extensive wardrobe. It was really nothing more than over-hyped advertising.

  She bit down on the pen. There was the opportunity to submit articles with more gravitas. Yell liked to think of itself as THE magazine for young professional women so the powers-that-be did allow for the occasional submission which delved beyond the surface areas of fashion, sex and relationships. The trouble was that for a relatively newcomer like Yuri, it was virtually impossible to gain one of those precious slots. She frowned to herself. She just had to think more creatively and re-frame her ideas into something a bit more becoming to Yell’s style. Perhaps if she aimed for inclusion in the slightly less pedantic Yell website first, then she’d have more opportunity to be included in the magazine’s hardcopy.

  Making a few more notes on the dog-eared notepad in front of her, Yuri decisively underlined a few key words and straightened her shoulders. She knew she had the skills to pull off the article. She just had to persuade everyone else of those skills first.

  Cam leaned over her flimsy workspace divider. ‘Morning, darling,’ he drawled.

  She raised her eyebrows at him. ‘You’re wearing that to the sub meeting?’

  ‘Givenchy.’ He touched the multi-coloured scarf at his neck.

  ‘It’s not,’ she coughed slightly, ‘not exactly your usual style.’

  Cam grimaced. ‘Yeah, I know. But I’m trying to look more gay.’

  ‘Cam, I hate to break it to you, but you are gay.’

  ‘Yes. But I don’t look gay. I’m not camp. I need to, well, advertise myself a bit more.’

  Yuri frowned at him. ‘I don’t get it.’

  He shrugged, looking uncomfortable.

  ‘Is this because of the guy over in accounting?’

  He shook his head. Then a thought occurred to Yuri and she gaped at him. ‘No!’

  He blushed slightly.

  ‘Cam, you’re surely not trying to look more gay so you’ll have more chance of getting a good submission in for February?’

  ‘I’m playing the game. This is a women’s magazine and I’m trying to look the part of someone who should be writing full page spreads for that magazine.’ He gave her an arch look. ‘It’s all about fitting in.’

  ‘Jesus,’ she muttered. She picked up her notepad and stood up.

  ‘Hey!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘A touch of the pot and the kettle, me thinks.’ He flicked a finger towards her shirt.

  ‘This? I’ve had it for years!’

  ‘Bullshit.’

  Yuri deflated slightly. ‘Okay, I borrowed it from Sibyl.’

  ‘I knew it! And you thought I was the shallow manipulative one.’

  ‘It’s not that far off my usual style.’

  ‘Sequins?’

  Yuri looked away for a moment. ‘Yeah,’ she eventually admitted, ‘I’m trying to play the game too.’

  At that particular moment Judy, one of the more senior staff, floated past them in a cloud of Chanel. She was wearing a floaty vintage summer dress. That in itself wouldn’t be odd, but it was soggy grey November and her attire never normally strayed from ubiquitous black trousers and white shirt. Cam and Yuri looked at each other and simultaneously burst out laughing. Judy turned to them and gave them a dirty look.

  Cam pointed to his garish scarf and Yuri gestured towards her sequined blouse. Judy glared at the pair of them for a heartbeat, then grinned.

  ‘Hey, we do what we can, right?’

  They nodded. ‘Right.’

  *

  They took their places around the large walnut table in the conference room. Everyone in Yuri’s team was designated by Yell as a floater. Despite the unpleasant connotations of the word, it was, in Yuri’s opinion, by far the best situation to be in. It meant she wasn’t tied solely to fashion or to celebs or to romance and relationships, but rather that she had the opportunity to write across a range of topics in order to pick up any slack.

  ‘So,’ said Don, the subeditor, leaning across the table, ‘what do we have then?’

  Judy began. ‘Cybercrime. It’s a growing problem and something which our readers are becoming increasingly concerned about. There’s an entire thread on Yell.co.uk devoted to it. I’ve been compiling some data, and I think there’s enough for a serious article. You know, where the danger areas are, what ordinary people can do to protect themselves.’

  ‘Didn’t we just do that piece on identity theft a few months ago?’

  Judy’s face grew more earnest. ‘And it was incredibly popular. We had a lot of letters in response so I think it’s time we did a follow-up.’

  ‘I like it,’ nodded Don. ‘See if you can get some of those original responders included. It’ll make it more authentic. Send me a draft mock-up by the end of next week.’

  Judy grinned.

  ‘We also have a holiday slot we’ve been asked to fill.’

  One of the other staffers groaned. ‘Already?’

  Don shrugged. ‘Hey, it’s for February. People are stuck in freezing cold Blighty and starting to think of ways to escape. I was thinking along the lines of how you can still visit European countries who’ve been dogged by economy problems and have a great time.’

  Several pairs of eyes around the table lit up. ‘Social conscience and a suntan,’ piped up Cam.

  Don smiled. ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Suck up,’ Yuri hissed to her friend.

  He kicked her ankle under the table, forcing her to smother a short yelp of pain. Don glanced at her expectantly.

  ‘Yuri, did you have something to add?’

  ‘Er, no. It’s a great idea, Don.’

  Cam leaned over and whispered in her ear. ‘Suck up.’

  She kicked him back.

  ‘Greece seems like the perfect location,’ Don continued. ‘Flailing economy, a massive debt burden, pretty beaches…’

  ‘And ouzo!’ someone else finished.

  ‘Indeed.’ He beamed. ‘Who’s interested?’

  Almost at once, virtually every single hand around the table shot up. This kind of research based article would require a visit to Greece itself. Yell was pretty good about those kinds of things, encouraging its writers to experience their subjects first-hand rather than simply getting information from the internet. Regardless, it had been a while since any of them had been offered an all expenses paid research trip abroad. The look of satisfaction on Don’s face proved that he’d known exactly how much they would all be slathering at the mouth to sign up. All of them apart from Yuri, that was.

  ‘What’s the matter with you?’ whispered Cam, nudging her sharply in her ribs. ‘Put your hand up!’

  ‘I’m saving my big guns for later,’ she responded.

  ‘Against a freaking trip to Greece?’

  She shrugged and looked down at the table. The last place on Earth Yuri wanted to be in was Greece.

  ‘Cam, I think it’s about time we let you off the leash,’ said Don, smiling at him.

  He almost leapt out of his chair
in puppy dog like excitement while everyone else deflated. ‘Really? Really?’

  ‘Really. Do some location research and come back to me with a few ideas.’

  He bounced up and down on his chair like a giddy schoolchild. ‘Certainly, sir! I mean, Don! Thanks!’

  Yuri grinned at him. As much as she was glad she’d not be picked for this one, she was thrilled for her friend.

  ‘Yuri, do you have an idea you wish to submit? You usually do.’

  What remained unspoken was that her ideas also usually remained firmly in this room. She’d not had one get past Don yet.

  ‘Yes,’ she said firmly, standing up, then changing her mind and sitting back down again. ‘Yes. I want to target an article specifically at our working professionals. There are many women who go about their daily lives at work, dealing with customers or clients or such-like and putting on happy smiles, when their home lives are being wrecked from marital problems, family issues, that kind of thing. We could do a case study. Take someone from a well-known profession like, say, teaching, and look at how they balance the stresses of their job with the stress of home.’

  Don frowned. ‘You mean a self-help piece?’

  ‘Er, sort of. It’s not something people talk about much. Balancing home problems while putting on a brave face at work. I think it could lead to some really interesting feedback from our readers.

  ‘Hm.’

  Judy shot Yuri a sympathetic look. A ‘hm’ from Don was never optimistic.

  ‘It doesn’t just have to be teachers,’ Yuri said hastily, ‘we could look at women from all walks of life.’

  ‘Yeah,’ interjected Sam from across the table, snapping her fingers. ‘There’s that politician, the one with the son who’s just been done for drugs. She got that bill passed at the same time - the one about domestic violence.’

  ‘The model who’s got depression. You know, she tried to commit suicide last year right after she’d won the Leef contract…’ added someone else.

  Yuri felt a sliver of hope rise up.

  Another person spoke up excitedly. ‘Cleaners! How do cleaners keep their own houses clean when they’re knackered from cleaning other people’s places all day long?’

  ‘Hm,’ Don repeated. ‘It’s the February issue. People need spring time and happiness. Daffodils, bunnies, that kind of thing. Not mops and dust cloths.’

  ‘You don’t get spring with lambs and flowers and bunnies till March, really,’ said Yuri, trying to keep her tone light.

  ‘Exactly. That’s why people need them in February. They need to read about positive things, not issues that will put them in the doldrums and remind them it’s still weeks to go until they’ll see even a glimmer of proper sunshine.’

  ‘Except when it’s March, Yell will be full of summery things because we’ll focusing on May and June coming,’ said Yuri in a small voice.

  ‘Hm.’

  ‘The article will be positive. It’ll be how people – women – manage it. How they do manage to cope in the face of extraordinary adversity.’

  ‘I’m not sure that cleaning your house counts as extraordinary adversity.’

  ‘Well, that wasn’t my example,’ said Yuri through gritted teeth.

  ‘Hm,’ Don repeated yet again. ‘I’m sorry, Yuri. I don’t think it’ll fit this time around. Maybe for April?’

  Cam squeezed her arm. She took a deep breath and forced herself to smile. ‘Sure. Maybe April. Thanks Dom.’

  *

  ‘It’s not fair!’ Yuri raged to her housemate, Sibyl, later that evening. ‘It wasn’t that crazy an idea. It’s not like I was trying to write about serious politics or economics or anything that would turn off our readers. And it is still a real issue! Women would be interested!’

  ‘I can talk to my great-aunt, if you want,’ Sibyl offered, ‘she can perhaps persuade this Don to look upon your ideas more favourably.’

  ‘Your great-aunt is supposed to be keeping a low profile,’ Yuri pointed out, calming down somewhat. ‘As are you.’

  Sibyl pasted on an innocent look. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘The website?’

  She blinked. ‘For a human you manage to find out a hell of a lot.’

  ‘I’m a journalist.’

  Sibyl arched her eyebrow.

  ‘Okay. I’m not really a journalist,’ Yuri amended. ‘I am trying though.’

  ‘It’s only a silly fortune telling site, anyway. No-one takes those things seriously.’

  ‘How much money are you charging?’

  Sibyl shrugged.

  ‘And how much money have you made, more to the point?’

  She grinned in answer.

  Yuri rolled her eyes. ‘Judy’s writing an article about internet scams. I should pass along your details.’

  Sibyl looked hurt. ‘It’s not a scam.’

  ‘Which is why it’s so dangerous.’

  Her housemate dismissed her concerns. ‘As if the bloody gods at Olympus would bother keeping up with the internet. They still think they’re living in the Dark Ages. Even if they did see the site, there’s no way they could trace it back to me.’ Her eyes took on a dangerous gleam. ‘You know I can still do a divination for you. It’s not like it’s a life or death thing, Yuri. I could just cast to find out whether you should stay at Yell or find another job where you’ll be more successful.’

  ‘I like my job. There are people who would kill for my job. And I’ve only been there for fourteen months. You don’t become successful overnight. Plus, I don’t want a damn divination. I’ve told you a million times. I don’t like that stuff.’

  ‘The offer’s always open.’

  ‘Thanks but no thanks.’

  Sibyl shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’

  *

  By the time the next morning rolled its inevitable way around, Yuri was feeling calmer. So it hadn’t worked. Maybe Don just wasn’t a fan of sequins in the way that he was of silly scarves and floaty dresses. She’d just need to come up with a different idea and try again next month. In the meantime, she had to sort through the hundreds of letters and emails which had been received and choose five to go into the next issue. It was scut work, but at least it was interesting scut work.

  It was towards the end of the day when Don interrupted her. There was a worried expression on his face and a tense set to his shoulders. ‘Yuri? Can you come into my office please?’

  Her heart dropped. Shit. Shit shit shit. Was this where he was going to tell her she didn’t fit in? That her ideas for articles were so far off the wall, there was no point in her staying? She’d thought it was just a matter of perseverance and patience, but maybe she’d been wrong. Yuri had been telling the truth to Sibyl last night; as much as she’d been complaining, she loved her job and knew how lucky she was to have it. Don had been pleased with her writing so far. He’d even once said it had flair. Was that not enough? Cam watched her with wide eyes as she stood up on shaky legs and followed her boss across the room. Terrifyingly, once she was inside, he closed the door. He never closed his door.

  ‘So, Yuri, you know I’ve been happy with your work so far…’

  She closed her eyes for a beat, then opened them and looked directly at him. ‘But…?’

  ‘But I’m going to need to put a lot more pressure on you now and I need to know that you can cope.’

  She started. ‘Sorry?’

  He rubbed his forehead. ‘It’s been one of those mornings. Allen Adamson has spent the night locked up in a cell. The charges are serious. He was drink driving and apparently ran over a woman. He’s meant to be our January cover story but all of a sudden we can’t touch him with a barge pole. We need to do some serious last minute re-arranging.’ He peered at her over his glasses. ‘Tony wrote the original Adamson cover story but he’s out in the States at the moment. Everyone else already has writing commitments. You don’t. We could bring in someone freelance to write a new story for us but … well, I’ve persuaded the editor-in-chi
ef that you can do it. I like your writing. I know I keep turning down your ideas but that’s just because there’s no room for them at the moment. By doing this you’re going to be moving about fifty rungs up the ladder in one move. A lot of people are going to be severely pissed off. You’d better not let me down.’

  Yuri stared at him.

  ‘Yuri?’

  Her tongue was clawed to the roof of her mouth.

  ‘Yuri?’

  ‘I…I…’

  ‘You don’t know what to say?’

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’ She put her hand over her mouth. This kind of thing only happened in overblown daydreams, surely? ‘Wow. Thank you. I won’t screw this up, Don. I really won’t.’

  He laughed. ‘Don’t get too excited. You’re not going to be allowed any freedom with the topic, no matter how much you would love to have it, and you do know that every single sub-editor in this place is going to being scrutinising every damn comma. Plus, you won’t get a second chance at this. Fail, and your future at Yell is pretty much over. If it’s too much too soon, then let me know now. There won’t be any shame in it.’

  Yuri shook her head vigorously. ‘Are you kidding? As if I’m going to turn this down. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.’ As soon as she said those words, she felt a sudden trickle of doubt. It was an opportunity of a lifetime. It seemed crazy that she was being given it. If Sibyl’s great-aunt had any hand in making this happen … she had no choice but to believe it was genuine though. ‘It’s no problem,’ she said to him with the confidence of someone who had years of magazine experience under their belt instead of merely fourteen months. ‘I can do this. I will do this. What’s the topic?’

  The phone on his desk rang. He grinned at her. ‘You’re about to find out. The head of human interest has been working her usual magic.’

  He picked up the receiver. ‘Hello? Yes.’ His smile got wider. ‘She’s said she’ll do it.’ There was a pause. ‘I think she’ll be very happy with that. He definitely agreed? Brilliant. No, she’ll do fine. I’ll talk to you later.’