Lyla smiles from ear to ear and looks at the ceiling while she thinks.
‘I know!’ she says, turning excitedly to look at me.
‘OK! What?’ I’m catching her enthusiasm.
‘I want to go to near the big park and go in the American Girl dolls’ shop. I want to buy a big dolly that looks exactly like me and the matching clothes, and then I want to go in the special little girls’ salon they have and they can make my hair all curly, and then I want to go with you and my brand-new doll and get those giant milkshakes with doughnuts and sprinkles on top,’ she says without once pausing for breath.
I thought about her proposal. I’ve seen those dolls, and I’m sure they’re, like, a zillion dollars. I can’t imagine the children’s salon would be budget-friendly either, and the milkshakes probably contain a week’s worth of sugar, not to mention additives that will no doubt send Lyla absolutely berserk.
But, as the youth say (or maybe they don’t anymore, since I know the phrase), YOLO.
‘Lyla Blue Wilde …’ I pause for effect, watching her jump up onto her feet, towering above me. ‘Your wish is my command.’
‘YESSS!!’ she screams, bouncing up and down on the bed, causing me instant regret for saying yes to the milkshakes.
And so Lyla and I spend the most perfect afternoon in Manhattan on our own special mummy-and-daughter date. I load the salon, the doll and all her gubbins on my credit card, schlep all the way over to the milkshake place and enjoy every second of lavishing my time, love and resources on my little girl.
I knew she needed it, but perhaps not realised how much I needed it, too.
TWENTY-FOUR
MONDAY! OR AS MY dad would say, ‘Two days to Hump Day’, and Mum would roll her eyes saying, ‘Robert, please!’ as if he’d said, ‘Three days to ShagSexWankSnog Day’. I must give them a call soon. When I told Mum last month about this trip, she’d told me to buy a sew-in pocket to keep my valuables close, because ‘New York is full of ruffians’. Mum doesn’t like to travel unless it’s on a cruise ship (that she barely steps off) with Steve and Amanda from the Rotary Club. When I was little we did have a few holidays to the South of France, but Mum, ironically, thought the French were rude, so we stopped going. Kath and Derek always seemed to be travelling and I absolutely adored studying their photos and hearing all about their trips. They made everything feel like an adventure. They went to Austria to see the hills where The Sound of Music was filmed, and Kath still has a home video of her dancing with Derek, singing all the songs. And when I was about thirteen, they went to Athens, which is where Kath bought my memory box – this beautiful box covered in shells, which I’ve used to store photos, letters and ticket stubs in ever since. She also brought us back matching little gold headbands that she’d bejewelled with faux leaves and iridescent beads, so we could be ‘like Greek goddesses’. Kath really knew how to have fun, and still does.
As I left her this morning, she seemed her cheery self and back to normal. She said the early night had really sorted her out and she was looking forward to a day exploring Chelsea. Relieved to see her back on her feet and Lyla skipping around her, I left for the subway and Fierce Films with Natalie, relaxed and ready to take on the day.
We knew this one last unplanned day of shooting was our best hope of getting a meeting, a contract, a win before we left New York. But despite our eager smiles and willingness to help, Lindsey and Lauren are there to ‘oversee’ the work and I think put everyone on edge.
‘Morning!’ I trill. ‘Looks set to be a lovely day!’ One of the few positive things my mother taught me was that if you couldn’t say anything nice, go for a bit of weather chat.
‘Does it? Looks to me like we’re running over because nobody has been keeping track of timings,’ Lauren snaps, leaving me completely startled. What on earth am I supposed to say to that?
‘Lauren, let us sort this. You have plenty of MUAs, but if there’s anything else we can do, we’re here, an extra pair of hands, ready and willing to get stuck in,’ Natalie says with such grace I want to squeeze her. If ever there’s a woman you want in a crisis, it’s Natalie.
‘Oh, you’re going to go and chase up the caterers, are you, who haven’t supplied the breakfast for today?’ Lauren retorts.
‘No, no, you don’t have to do that,’ Lindsey follows up, embarrassed. ‘That’s not their job, Lauren,’ she says, quietly pleading with Lauren not to be so rude.
‘It’s not our job, but an army marches on a full stomach, so give us the details and we’ll make it happen!’ Natalie declares with a smile and I nod because, quite honestly, I want some breakfast.
An hour later, and we’re stepping out of an Uber with armfuls of trays of pastries and a boot loaded with fruit platters and juices. Turns out the breakfast was waiting and paid for but the delivery guy had cocked up. All it took were two glam delivery girls (us) and a taxi, and the problem was solved, but you’d have thought we’d found a cure for cancer with the response we got. Even Lauren smiled.
No sooner have we stepped back to admire the platters we’ve laid out on the tables than we hear a deafening crash from behind us, where the make-up artists have their workstations laid out. A clumsy runner (who won’t be a runner for much longer, I reckon) has knocked into one of the tables from behind while fiddling with a socket and the entire thing has toppled over. Palettes are smashed, loose powders spilt and brushes are scattered all over the floor. The American artistry team look ashen as Lauren slowly turns round and takes it all in.
‘Oh my God!’ she screeches.
‘Don’t worry!’ I say brightly, going into automatic mum-trying-to-prevent-a-toddler-from-an-almighty-meltdown mode. ‘Many hands make light work!’
I walk over to the stations with Natalie following.
‘If you guys carry on with the cast, we can tidy this up and clean the brushes. We can even fix a lot of these palettes’ smashed powders, if you have any rubbing alcohol,’ I say in the cheeriest it’s-all-OK tone possible. Natalie nods and begins picking things up as Lauren looks on with what I can only hope is an impressed glare.
As soon as we’ve put that fire out, I receive a call from Lacey in tears, saying she can’t face going out today but equally can’t face being in all day alone with Willow.
‘Could you ask Kath to help you?’ I suggest.
‘Mmm, I don’t think so,’ she says oddly.
‘She won’t mind, she loves spending time with Willow, which is why she’s helped a lot so far,’ I say, confused.
‘No, it’s OK, I don’t want to bother her. I’ll be OK, I’m fine, really.’ I know she isn’t fine (that fabulous word again) but I don’t have time to argue because, lo and behold, Kath’s also trying to get through.
‘Hellooo,’ I chime.
‘Lovey, I’m ever so sorry but you’re going to have to come home or I’m going to have to drop Lyla to you,’ she says immediately.
‘What? Why? Are you both OK?’ I panic.
‘Yes, lovey, absolutely fine. But I think it’s the change – my hormones have gone haywire and I need a little break,’ she says as though this is totally normal.
‘Um, right … I can’t leave this very second, but I can be home in an hour, will that be OK?’ I ask, feeling stressed already at the logistics of this.
‘Yes, thank you, I just feel out of sorts, nothing to worry about,’ and she hangs up.
Nothing to worry about but I need to go home immediately? I feel anxious about bailing on Natalie on the last day of the shoot, and I can tell she’s a bit annoyed, despite my success earlier with the clear-up. She asks if Lacey can shoot across town to help, but judging by her earlier call, I don’t think she’s in the right frame of mind. I consider asking Edward, but he’s been so busy lately, only seeing me for small chunks of time and constantly promising alone time that we never seem to be able to make happen. Suddenly I feel very isolated, and like the weight of every single thing is on my shoulders. For the first time in a long time I can feel
my throat tightening and tears pricking behind my eyes. Sensing an imminent breakdown, Natalie tells me to go home and see to Lyla, and I slope off to order an Uber. Sod schlepping home on the subway. I need to make a call.
It arrives in under three minutes (New York, you win again). I let the tears fall down my cheeks and dial Gillian, international charges be damned.
‘Robin, if I were there I’d scoop you up, find the nearest café that serves giant slabs of chocolate cake and we’d put the world to rights. Please don’t fret over all of this, you’re doing so, so, so well,’ Gillian soothes after I gab on about all of my problems and how crap I feel at every role I’m trying to juggle.
‘Oh, Gillian, if only you could! Everything here is gluten-free, sugar-free, dairy-free, fat-free!’ I wail, not caring a jot what the Uber driver must think of me.
‘I’d call that fun-free, then!’ Gillian laughs, trying to cheer me up. ‘But seriously, though, I can’t believe you feel a failure when you’re doing so much! I keep telling everyone how amazing you are. We all missed you at Women Who Win. Gloria talked about “Playing Big”.’
‘Bloody hell, I dread to think what she means by that!’ I say, wishing my brain wasn’t instantly flashing to an image of her with the headmaster in the school supply cupboard.
‘Ah-ah-ah! Mind out of the gutter! She was talking about how we shouldn’t limit ourselves to what we think we should be or should do, but to play a big game. She talked about you as an example,’ Gillian enthuses.
‘What? How am I an example?’ I ask in shock.
‘Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you have climbed the career ladder in a profession you love, secured amazing high-profile deals for your company, you’ve travelled to America twice for work, you’re a good friend to all of us and you do all this while being a single mum and having quite a hunk of a boyfriend!’ Gillian retorts.
‘Did you all talk about Edward?’ I say, a bit wobbly at how nice that was.
‘Well, no, I added that bit in because it’s true. We just spoke about your career and juggling motherhood alongside it. You’re a great example of playing it big. You don’t let little obstacles stop you, you set your sights on the goal and you just go out there and get it! I know you don’t think so, but you’re an inspiration, Robin!’ Gillian coaxes. ‘It’s easy to find things to admire when we look at our friends, but so much harder to see those things in ourselves.’
‘Ohhh, I don’t know what to say now. I feel silly for ringing you all snotty and crying. You’re so good to me.’ I have so much love for Gillian I feel like I could cry all over again.
‘Even our inspirations have a cry here and there, don’t worry. I won’t bring it up at the next meeting!’
‘Thank you!’ I say, smiling at her even though she can’t see me.
‘Now, get off this ridiculously expensive call, wipe your eyes and go and have your day. Work will find a way to right itself, Kath sounds like she’s a bit homesick, Lyla needs a big cuddle and Lacey has Piper on hand. When you’re home, maybe we’ll all have a nice Mummy Day at the park and plan when Lyla can come for a couple of sleepovers with Clara, so you and Edward can have some much-needed alone time. Everything, I promise, will be OK,’ Gillian says with absolute conviction.
‘Gillian Magraw, I don’t know how you do it but you are one of life’s great fixers, and I love you.’
As I get out of my Uber and walk up the steps to our house, I feel renewed. I feel more energised than I have in days, and I know I can face whatever life throws at me. At least for a little while, anyway!
AFTER I GET IN, Kath goes straight out for a walk to ‘clear her head’. It’s the firmest I’ve ever felt her be with me – she’s angry, almost – so I don’t question her or stand in her way. I keep trying to think of anything I might have done to upset her – I don’t want her to think I’ve ever taken her for granted or don’t appreciate everything she’s done for Lyla and me. But I draw a blank, and know that right now, Lyla has to be my focus. The two of us go to the attic bathroom, run a deep bubble bath and play spas for the afternoon. I paint her nails, do what feels like a hundred tiny plaits in her hair so it will crimp, give her arms and legs a little lavender massage and then sit with her while she has a long bath, telling me every single thing that’s in her head.
We talk about all the things she’s seen in New York: about how she’d wanted to go to the American Girl shop and pick a doll that looked just like her, with all the accessories; about the little playgrounds they have found, and how the Milky Way bars over here are called the same thing but don’t taste the same as the ones at home.
I spend the whole afternoon in the bathroom with her. Not because I need to, but because I want to. When I’m with Lyla, I feel home, wherever we are. I feel as though my roots are deep and I am sturdy because I am doing what I was put on this earth to do: to be her mummy. I don’t much fancy opening the door and facing Natalie being annoyed that I left the shoot, or Kath being a bit strange, or Edward being narked that I can’t carve out time for him. Just for one afternoon I want to spread my branches wide over my little girl, shield her from everything and be there, with her, home.
TWENTY-FIVE
ZOOMING BACK TO THE Fierce Films offices today, I think about how much I’d like to be back in that bathroom now. My tummy is swirling with nerves and Natalie has a steely look on her face. This. Is. It.
Yesterday, after I left, Natalie secured a meeting with the team to talk about our next steps. We spent all of last night throwing ideas around and honing our pitch. Well, I say all of last night, but in truth, as soon as Lyla was in bed I’d called Edward to tell him, thinking he might want to celebrate – but he said I should probably just get an early night to be fresh for today.
Now I’m glad of the evening I spent with Natalie. We’re as ready as we’ll ever be. This is our chance to secure the job and, more importantly, secure MADE IT. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much pressure, but there is no way on earth I am going to let Natalie down. If I do, well, it doesn’t bear thinking about.
Looking around the giant New York boardroom, I take a nanosecond to wonder how my life has brought me to this moment. Three years ago I was a part-time make-up artist, part-time mess and now here I am, in a room with the head honchos of Fierce Films, with panoramic views of the city around me and a cup of very strong coffee.
Natalie opens.
‘Thank you for taking the time to meet with us. It’s been a pleasure getting to know you all this past week.’ She pauses, expecting some response, but is left with blank stares. She continues: ‘Lauren, I hope you found our work to be professional and enthusiastic?’
‘I did, it was awesome, but obviously we already had our team in and had those designs, so we thank you so much for your help but we really are all set,’ Lauren says with a false smile and dead eyes.
‘I would very much appreciate it if you could all,’ Natalie says, gesturing at Lauren, Scott, Lindsey, the finance guy and the woman from legal, ‘take a moment to reconsider. We worked successfully on the 2017 film and were promised the contracts for the next films. The right thing to do, we believe, would be to honour that, and we’d be thrilled to get working on the next set of designs for you,’ Natalie says as smoothly as she can, but I sense a waver of anxiety. I wish I could give her a little thumbs up of encouragement like I do to Lyla in school plays and assemblies.
‘And I appreciate you had that agreement, but that was with the old management. The firm’s changed hands, and we’re running things in a different direction now.’ Lauren totally shuts Natalie down.
I look around the room. Everyone except Lauren, who looks angry as per, and Natalie, who actually looks completely downtrodden, looks bored out of their brains.
‘Lauren, I’m sure we can find a little room for movement on this,’ Natalie tries.
‘I’m sorry, Natalie, but we cannot. We want to thank you for your time and your dedication but at this point in our journey, we don’t have space
for MADE UP,’ Lauren says. I almost feel Natalie flinch at Lauren’s disrespectful error.
Natalie does something she never, ever normally does. She sighs. ‘OK. Well, thank you again for the work in 2017, and we hope to see you again in the future.’
What? Natalie’s thrown in the towel? No! I can’t let this happen. I desperately try to think of a hook or a reason we have to secure this job. Something witty, or something we didn’t think of last night.
I can’t. I’ve got nothing. We’re going to lose this job and MADE IT’s going to lose staff. We’re going to have to lose Skye, or me, or I don’t know, but I can’t let this happen. I take a deep breath and suddenly, just as I think my head’s about to explode, I remember Gloria’s tips.
‘Actually,’ I venture, just as everyone is shuffling their tablets and laptops into their bags, ‘I have something I’d like to say.’
The people around the big black boardroom table look up, waiting.
Channelling my inner confidence, and Gloria’s third tip, I sit and wait a moment in silence. It’s awkward as fuck, but oh my God, I can see I have everyone’s full, undivided attention. Gloria was right!
I remember her first tip, ‘If you don’t ask, you don’t get’, and give it a go.
‘Lauren, you say you have an American team on hand. This team haven’t worked on the franchise in the way we have. We know the narrative, we know what’s expected of the design and the artistry, and we know we have what it takes to do a fantastic jo—’
‘And that’s awesome, but we—’ Lauren interrupts, but I interrupt her back.
‘I’m sorry, Lauren, I haven’t finished what I want to say.’ There’s now a stunned silence in the room.
‘I’d like to ask you to take this American team off the job and do the honourable thing of giving it back to us. We’ve proved to you once in 2017 that we have the skills to do a phenomenal job, and we’ve proved to you this week that we have the drive and determination to succeed. So, could you please arrange with your legal and financial colleagues here to reinstate us?’
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