by Foster, Zoe
‘What’s happening with Jack? Did anything or anyone go down on your dump-truck voyage?’
Lily looked across the set, where Jack was chatting to Mel off to the side. The tour crew had all had Monday off to recover, but despite sleeping all day yesterday – in a blissfully empty house due to Simone being at work, presumably – Lily’s fatigue had stuck with her into Tuesday. Jack was stirring the chilli oil he insisted on making fresh, even though the one Dale bought from the deli was totally fine. She lowered her voice and walked off set down past the edit room, hunching in the corner at the end of the hallway. Just to be sure.
‘There were some . . . moments, but I’m reading far too much into it. And I’ve decided to stop all of it, out of respect to Simone. Can’t be that girl. When he’s not in my face every day, I won’t be like this any more. He thinks I shouldn’t leave, by the way. Says it’s stupid.’
‘Doesn’t want his cute producer to leave. What a surprise.’
Lily sighed, still perplexed by the decision she had to make. ‘I’m trying to be a good person here.’
‘You have a friendship with him, and you respect each other. That’s something. I think we just let what he has with Simone right now fade out; and it will, because that relationship has as much soul as a thumbtack, and then when all that’s over, you can reassess.’
‘Al, that’s so perfect! Except for the bit where Simone has no reason to break up with him, and he’s not into me like that; and even if they do split up, she hates me for being with her ex, whom she still cries for at night.’
‘She can’t quarantine him! Fuck that.’
Grimmo walked towards Lily and tapped impatiently at his watch. Lily gave the thumbs up and began walking back to set.
‘Gotta go, can you email more about this festival thing?’
‘Yes, but I need to know if you’re in by tomorrow. And you should be in. It’s good cash, and you get to work with your precious.’
‘And I can start in a month, after Greece?’
‘Yesyesyes.’
‘Huh. Hey, how’s Sven, by the way?’
‘Had to let him go, he never showered. Never. Not after sex, not after work; I couldn’t risk the diseases.’
‘Cute. ’Kay bye now.’ Lily hung up and got to work.
Lily picked at her cold noodles, wondering if she would miss having main meals for breakfast. She’d grown accustomed to eating fish, spices, lamb (always cold because they needed to take photos for the web rundown and recipe first) – before most people had even had their morning cuppa. She had to compile a report on the food-truck tour for Sasha, probably so she could justify the enormous cost of it – but most of it could be filed under the marketing budget, surely, Lily thought.
‘There she is!’
Startled, Lily turned around in her chair to see Nikkii’s face greet her. Lily had avoided her successfully since she had stolen her promotion, but the inevitable had arrived. Nikkii was wearing a patterned dress that flared out awkwardly at the waist, with cut-outs on the chest and shoulders, which was of course entirely appropriate for the workplace at 9.32 a.m. She seemed to have removed her hair extensions, Lily noted, which definitely looked better, but she still insisted on putting in those brittle, bridesmaidy curls.
In an act of next-level awkwardness, Nikkii seemed to be expecting a kiss or a hug, or something involving human contact, as she stood there for a few seconds, hands outstretched, black nail polish (so edgy) shining, luminous Hollywood teeth gleaming. Lily didn’t stand or move, so Nikkii gave her a hug while she was still seated. Shocked, Lily seized up, making the hug even more wrong.
‘Hey, an official congrats on the new role, Nikkii.’ Lily regrouped. ‘How’s it all going?’
Missing the awkwardness with the same confidence that saw her ask Christina Aguilera in earnest how much happier she was when she was skinny, Nikkii put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side.
‘You know what? I literally never thought I would be boss, like, I’m just not cut out for that stuff, but then I realised that the more you do, the more big-picture stuff you’re involved in, the more creative control you have and now I have proof! It feels amazing, Lily. So compleeetely different. I am so looking forward to making some big changes, and really exploring some big things . . . it’s just so exciting.’
Jesus, Lily thought. She’d already mastered the art of meaningless middle-management bullshit. And just how many changes could possibly occur when Never Say No to a Junket Nikkii was constantly off doing press trips or interviews?
‘It sure is,’ Lily said, with what she hoped was a convincing smile on her face.
‘So, on to food stuff . . . Jack’s bits are fantastic, obviously, and the truck thingy was amazing. We had great numbers, Sasha said, but I really do think there are some other cooler things we could do with him, don’t you agree?’
She looked at Lily with a conspiratorial look, but Lily wasn’t in on this, and Nikkii could tell she didn’t want to be.
Nikkii switched the weight onto her other hip and ran her hand smoothly not through, but over her curls. It was her textbook I’m ‘in front of the camera’ move, designed to let you know she couldn’t just mess her hair up, she was the talent, you know, she might be called to shoot something. On air. Where she often was. Being on TV.
‘I was thinking we need more glitz, more sex appeal . . . What do you think about him having an assistant, like, oh, I don’t know, some gorgeous young thing who helps him out and they chat and have fun and there’s this kind of sexual chemistry going on, and you just have these two people having fun, which is SO what I’m all about right now. Just, like, real people literally having real fun.’
‘Real people who happen to be extraordinarily good-looking and on TV.’ Lily couldn’t help herself. She’d started tapping her pen into the palm of her left hand, and the pace and ferocity was increasing with every frustrating thing Nikkii said. She never thought she’d admit it, but Lily in this moment missed Eliza.
‘Exactly’ Nikkii said, missing the sarcasm. ‘And also, we really need Jack to be more on social media. Can you try? He needs to be relatable, accessible, humanised. Literally even just Facebook would be amazing. Can you ask? You’re his favourite, he’ll totally listen to you.’
Lily savoured the idea of being his favourite for a moment before remembering it was her segment that was being massacred by the resident buzzword fountain.
‘Can I think about all this? I’m not sure if that kind of assistant is that . . . appropriate. And Mel and Rob, they have a great rapport with Jack, and it keeps the flow of the show to have the hosts pop into see what’s cooking, it’s always been that way . . .’
Nikkii looked at Lily very directly, a tiny, taut Botoxed frown forming on her forehead.
‘Oh, you don’t know? Rob and Mel are moving on.’
Shock, sadness and rage smacked Lily in one powerful hit. What was happening around here?
‘What? Why, when?’ Lily asked, gripping the pen tightly in her right hand, and gripping that hand with her left, mostly to stop herself from punching something. Maybe Nikkii.
‘Oh, um, this week, I think?’
‘Whose decision was it?’ Lily asked, swishing her tail and baring her fangs.
‘The powers that be. Siobhan is sending out the press release tomorrow’
Perfect, thought Lily. The exact day I hand in my resignation.
‘Yeah, we’re actually moving to THREE hosts, two guys and a girl, all young and gorgeous. I don’t want to say too much, because we’re still waiting for the contracts to be signed, but you will literally DIE when you find out who we got.’
Lily had had enough of Nikkii’s vacuous, hyperbolic waffling.
‘Sorry, but I need to find Rob and Mel. I’ll see you around.’
She stood up, threw Nikkii a tight, apologetic smile and pushed her chair in. She didn’t give a fuck if Nikkii was her boss, she was ‘literally’ an unfeeling, insincere, superficial bag
of shit and Lily wasn’t going to sit there a second longer and pander to her tacky, fluoro-teethed vision of the future.
‘I’ve sent you a meeting request for Monday morning to chat about Jack. So see you then.’
Nikkii’s twinkly, confident tone indicated she knew she’d get that assistant. Lily could not STAND her. The new hosts, Lily guessed, would be about twelve, and about as engaging as the carpet she walked on. A perky young assistant for Jack? What was this, the ’80s? Jack needed T&A on set now? No. No, no, no. Just everything, no. This was not an inspirational workplace, this was not the kind of show she wanted to work on, and that was not the kind of segment she’d be proud to produce.
Despite what Lily had felt after her talk in the car with Jack, that maybe it was childish of her to take her ball and go home because Nikkii was in charge and the show was changing tack, she now knew in her heart she had to go. Sorry, Jack.
Quitting tomorrow. I’m in. x
As she sent the text to Alice, she felt a surge of panic and adrenalin and excitement shoot through her. She would be freelance! Freelance. She’d never wanted to be freelance. Freelance to Lily seemed like the career version of a shitty relationship, minimal commitment, constant uncertainty and marginal satisfaction. If you were lucky. It didn’t feel right, but neither did this Frankendaily that was evolving before her eyes.
Greece had better provide some answers, she thought, the familiar scent of anxiety wafting in. Soon she would be thirty, jobless, single, have her mum for a best friend and still be living in a sharehouse. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, she told herself miserably.
30
‘Sim?’ Lily yelled, opening the fridge to see what magical, delicious food might have appeared since this morning.
She spied some beetroot dip and pulled it out, grabbing some spelt crackers from the pantry and diving in straight from the box, to the dip, to her mouth, like the soon-to-be unemployed, loser slob she was. She honestly had no idea what she’d live on when she moved out – two-minute rice and sweet chilli sauce, probably.
‘SCHIM?’ Lily yelled louder, with her mouth full. She stopped crunching, cocking her ear for a response. There were candles burning; Simone had to be home. Taking a fully loaded cracker with her, Lily walked up the stairs towards Simone’s room. The door was ajar and the lights were off, but when Lily got closer, she could hear quiet sniffing. Flicking the light on, she saw a tracksuit-panted Simone curled up in the foetal position on the bed, clutching a bright-pink pillow, and crying. She flicked the light off again. Oh, Jesus.
Looking around quickly for somewhere to dump her snack, Lily put it on the hallway floorboards, next to the wall so she wouldn’t forget about it and trample it as she left, and rushed back into the room, turning on the bedside lamp then plopping down next to her friend on the side of the bed, placing a hand lightly on her thigh.
‘Sim, Sim, Sim, what’s wrong? Are you okay? What happened?’
Lily tried to push back the thought that Sim was just coming down. She’d seen it before, and it was not dissimilar to what lay before her.
‘I – I’m, I’m so glad you’re home,’ Simone managed to get out as she wiped her eyes and nose and made to surrender the pillow she was gripping onto as though it were a life jacket and she was at sea. Finally composing herself, she rolled onto her back and then sat up, her back against the bedhead, her knees pulled up to her chest protectively.
She looked through her messy blonde hair at Lily and then closed her eyes tightly as she cried a few more final tears. Lily hadn’t even noticed how thin Simone had become; her chest and ribs were bony and her arms were rail-thin. Whatever Simone had been doing over the past two weeks, it hadn’t included much eating.
‘Sim, has something bad happened? What’s going on?’ Now genuinely anxious, Lily was starting to become angry at the idea that this might be caused by drugs, but at the same time she hoped it was, because then nothing actually terrible would have happened.
‘No, it’s just, I’m being, it’s all, oh, God, Lil. I am such a FUCK-UP,’ and the tears started all over again. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed, Lily sitting awkwardly on the bed, her hands clasped together in her lap, no idea what to do.
‘I’m going to make you a tea. When I come back, we’ll chat, ’kay?’
Simone nodded faintly and, pleased with her quick-thinking, nurturing solution, Lily took herself off the bed and into the hallway, quickly scooping up her cracker en route and jamming it into her mouth, and headed downstairs to make a pot of something herbal and soothing. There were so many boxes and jars of tea to choose from, Lily didn’t know where to start. She picked one out called Divinity, which seemed to her a bit of an overstatement for tea leaves that smelled like wet dirt. She settled for one called Self-love instead, which had a nice pink box and a gentle font, and boiled the kettle. ‘Add organic oat or almond milk to taste’, read the packet. Give me a break, Lily thought.
Five minutes later, using a move she’d seen Simone do a million times, she presented to her flatmate a small bronze tray with a teapot and two small Moroccan tea glasses. Placing it gingerly on a dresser overflowing with jewellery, perfumes and make-up, she poured a cup for Simone. A rush of shame washed over her; Simone was always making tea for Lily, always offering her a wine, or a juice or some gorgeous, earnest, homemade dinner, and Lily never repaid the favour.
‘Here you go. Hope I did it right.’ Lily held the tiny blue and gold glass out to her shambolic friend and Simone, who had finally been granted dry eyes, took it carefully, a sad smile on her face.
‘Thanks, babe.’
Taking her own cup, Lily sat back down on the side of the bed and waited for the Big Explanation.
‘So, what’s going on?’
Simone looked at Lily and tears immediately began welling again in her eyes.
‘I did a bad thing. I’m a bad, bad, terrible person.’
‘Unless you did a hit and run or something . . . oh God, you didn’t, did you?’ Lily’s eyes were wide with fear.
‘No, no, it’s nothing like that . . . I, I don’t even know how to say it and I know you’ll be disgusted with me, and I am, I am SO angry with myself, and I, I —’ The tears were back.
‘Shh, just, relax. Take your time. I can come back in half an hour if you like? I might pop down to Nina’s and get some Thai; would you be interested in anything, a soup maybe?’
Simone shook her head, eyes down, and then, in a flash, they were back up and on Lily.
‘I slept with Michael.’
Lily’s left hand flew up to her mouth in shock, and she inhaled sharply.
‘Oh fuck, Sim. Fuck. Ohhh, that’s no good. That’s no good at all.’
Tears began rolling down Simone’s face, and she had to relegate her tea to her bedside table to manage the salty streams. Lily noticed with disappointment that Valium, Xanax, Phenergan and some other unidentified foil packets were all fighting for space on the small surface area.
‘I just, I don’t even know how it happened. He was at Town having a few drinks with his mates last night and I was there having dinner, and we, we hadn’t seen each other for ages, and I was in a really good mood cos I’d just got back from this awesome Hawaiian trip, and so we were chatting, you know, and we were both talking about our partners and just being normal exes. No funny business. And I don’t know, maybe because he was being so normal, I, well, I started to feel familiar old feelings, and I SWORE to myself I wouldn’t be with him again, Lil, not ever . . . So I wanted to go home, because if I’m being totally honest, I could sense something maybe happening, but I couldn’t find Skye anywhere, and so he said he’d drop me home in a taxi, and I shouldn’t have agreed, but then we . . . we went back to his place and I am so ANGRY at myself, Lil, I am such an IDIOT. Why do I always do this? Why can’t I be strong for once in my fucking life? Why?’
She began sobbing uncontrollably, her whole body shaking; her head on her knees, hair covering her legs, her body look
ing roughly as small as she probably felt. Although Lily knew it was unkind to think so, Simone deserved to feel like shit. This was a girl who had been lucky enough to have all of the magical attributes to attract Jack Winter, and then she cheated on him. With Michael, the world’s biggest nightmare. No, the hot steaming shit of the world’s biggest nightmare.
Lily was furious with Simone, but she held it in. She also reminded herself she shouldn’t be feeling more sorry for Jack than one of her best friends, even if all the evidence herewith suggested she was within her rights to.
‘Oh, Sim . . . how could you let that dirty dog back into your pants . . .’
‘Babe, trust me, if I could rewind the clock I’d take it back. I would give anything to!’
But Lily wasn’t so sure. Simone had a history of this precise kind of fail, and she just didn’t seem to learn the lesson. She seemed predisposed to messing things up just as they seemed to be going well, and life was normalising. She was a serial self-saboteur.
Lily took a deep breath and tried to calm down. After all, who was she to be judging? It wasn’t like Lily was perfect. And yet all she wanted to do was scream at Simone, and say that maybe if you didn’t drink so much and do so much coke, and take so many drugs, maybe you wouldn’t make such shitty decisions. And maybe, maybe if you were more invested in your relationship with Jack, you wouldn’t be out getting shitfaced every weekend; you’d make time to see him instead of stumbling out of clubs with your ex-boyfriend in tow. Jack was handed to you like a goddamn gift, and you’re chucking him away!
‘I feel for Jack. I know you don’t want to hear that but I’m sorry, I do.’
‘Babe, can you not? It wasn’t like I wanted this to happen, fuck!’
‘I know that, Sim. I do. But, well, you’ve got to take responsibility for this. You can’t blame it on the alcohol, or drugs or whatever. You know that. It’s never an excuse.’
‘I know, I know . . . I just, oh God, I can’t believe I did it. And now I’ve probably ruined the one really good, normal relationship I’ve ever had.’