Love, and Other Things to Live For

by Louise Leverett

  ‘Vin,’ I said, getting his attention. ‘Please just give me a chance. I want to prove to you and to myself that I can do this.’

  My eyes met his across the table. I had to remind myself to blink.

  ‘Then let’s give it a go, shall we?’ he said after a pause that went on for decades.

  I could feel my tight grip loosen on my notebook, removing my hands from the sweaty fingerprints that remained.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I won’t let you down.’

  ‘Let’s see you a week on Monday?’ he said, flicking through the diary on his phone. ‘That will give us both time to get organised and in the meantime I’ll send things over to HR.’

  ‘That sounds perfect.’

  ‘They’ll email you over all the paperwork, rules and regs of employment, that kind of thing. But, for now, welcome to the team.’

  He held out his hand for me to shake.

  ‘Thank you, Vin,’ I said.

  ‘It’s been a long old road for you, I can tell. But hopefully this will mark something new.’

  ‘This really means a lot to me, Vin,’ I said, as he walked me out of his office.

  ‘I know,’ he said, ‘Trust me, I’ve been there myself.’

  Everything about that afternoon was typical: the weather, the noise of the traffic, the impatience of London, but one thing had changed – I was finally moving in the right direction. I had left the magazine and was now walking through the backstreets trying to find a quiet spot away from the bustle, in order to make a very important phone call. As soon as I was out of sight of the building and of any future colleagues who may be able to see me through an office window, I pulled out my phone to ring Cathy.

  ‘Guess what?’ I said as she answered.

  ‘What?’ she said, expecting my call.

  ‘I got the job as Vin’s assistant!’

  ‘Oh Jess, that’s brilliant!’ she said, screaming wildly. ‘When do you start?’

  ‘A week on Monday,’ I said, my excitement being egged on by her energy.

  ‘Jess, I’m so happy for you. I feel like a weight has lifted.’

  ‘Me too,’ I said, smiling. ‘And it’s a real chance to move forward. I’ll be working with him every day so something’s bound to rub off. I saw his pictures of all the famous actors and politicians on the wall. It’s unbelievable the people he’s met.’

  ‘He’s the best,’ she said, effortlessly. ‘Does that mean I lose you then?’

  ‘Kind of,’ I said, cautiously, ‘but if you need any help with anything, I can always come round on a Sunday?’

  ‘I’m joking, Jess,’ she said. ‘Darling, just go for it! Listen, I’ve got to go, I’ve got the dog barking at me for lunch. But congratulations, that’s fantastic news.’

  In a post-adrenalin haze, I walked back onto the main high street and through the crowds of busy shoppers. Something sitting quietly inside of me was now able to come to the surface, finally able to show people what I believed I could do. And after all the pre-race nerves had faded and the finish line had been crossed, there was only one person that I wanted to celebrate with.

  ‘This is not exactly what I had in mind,’ I said as Charlie passed me a pint of cask ale from the bar. We had somehow found ourselves in a traditional English pub, under an arch of Union Jack flags and standing beside a bust of Queen Victoria. ‘They’ve got pie and peas on the menu,’ he said, grinning. ‘But I might start with a pint of sausage rolls...’

  ‘Splash out,’ I said, looking at the menu.

  ‘So, I’d like to say a few words in honour of my incredible girlfriend…’ Charlie said, lifting his pint in a toast.

  ‘Charlie,’ I said, smiling before playfully hitting his arm.

  ‘No, seriously, Jess. I’ve seen how hard you’ve worked for this and I couldn’t be more happy for you.’

  I wiped the residue of beer froth from the top of his lip and kissed him.

  ‘I love you,’ I said, ‘and I love you even more for supporting me.’

  ‘I do have a bit of news of my own,’ he said, facing me. ‘They’re considering me for a promotion at the company. It would be the same hours but more responsibility – that’s why things have been a bit chaotic lately.’

  ‘Charlie! Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Because nothing’s definite and I need it to be before we discuss things.’

  Just when I thought I knew all there was to know about him, he would go and do something to remind me that I didn’t.

  ‘Well, I think that does deserve a toast,’ I said, drinking from my pint, ‘to my new job and your promotion.’

  He reached his arm around me and planted a heavy kiss on my cheek. It had been a turbulent flight but we had finally landed. In the midst of the furor I had somehow kept my balance juggling my career, my relationship and my friendships: all the fibres of my so-called life. I had twisted and twirled them through each day, one at a time, and managed to turn an unexpected corner. Hopefully, moving myself on into a better future.

  I’d become one of the head bobbers, the marching band of young professionals who lined the pavements each morning, walking to work in the rising sun. It was Monday morning and my first day working for the magazine. I had arrived at the office before Vin to make a good impression, and I watched diligently as the other workers started their day. I was fresh in their world full of Monday mornings, office meetings and group emails. I carried the papers from Vin’s in-tray and laid them on his desk next to a brief that we would be working on that day.

  ‘Morning, Jess,’ he said as he arrived, clutching a handful of stencils and a coffee.

  ‘Morning,’ I said, turning on his computer.

  ‘You’ve got the meeting with the art director at 9.30 and coffee with Will from marketing at 11.00. I’ve put everything in your online calendar but just to remind you.’

  ‘Very good,’ he said, pausing, before hanging his coat up on the back of the door. ‘So I’m afraid I’m going to have to throw you in at the deep end today. We’ve had a last-minute shoot come up with Gracie Andrews at Alexandra Palace so we need to head over there straight after lunch.’

  I wasn’t sure I’d heard correctly. I knew Gracie Andrews from the cover of many fashion magazines, one of which was currently housed next to the taps of our bath at home.

  ‘What do you need me to do?’ I said, opening my notebook.

  ‘I need you to pack up the lenses and the tripod, though I doubt we’ll use it. And then I need you to do the inventory so we don’t leave any equipment behind.’

  I quickly scribbled everything down in handwriting illegible to anyone but me. ‘On second thoughts…’ Vin said. ‘Do the inventory and then speak to Kate about booking a van. We’re going to need some wheels to get us over there.’

  I nodded, picking up an inventory form from a tray on his bookshelf while desperately trying to remember who Kate was.

  One hour later, and deep in the contents of two equipment bags, I got a phone call from Amber.

  ‘How’s it going?’ she said. I could hear her typing at the desk in our living room.

  ‘Good. It’s a bit… overwhelming, at the minute,’ I said, looking down at the array of cables sprawling the carpet in front of me.

  ‘Fancy a drink after work?’

  ‘I can’t,’ I said, running my hands through my hair. ‘I’ve got my final evening class on technical lighting to go to.’

  ‘Sounds riveting,’ she said drily.

  ‘I’ll see you at home later.’ I put my phone back in my pocket and checked off the lenses one by one. You can do this, I thought to myself as I pencilled down their names in size order, you’ve got this all under control.

  As I began setting up the equipment for the afternoon’s shoot on a set far bigger than I had expected, I lifted up the camera and walked it over to the markings. In the meantime, Vin had knelt down beside Gracie, talking her through the storyboard. She was sat, elegantly, in hair and make-up surrounded by a team of peop
le pulling and poking her into place.

  ‘That’s great, Jess,’ Vin said, jogging back from Gracie’s corner. With my assistance he checked the height of the camera on the tripod and moved a few errant cables out of the way with his feet.

  ‘Do me a favour, would you? Go and tell Gracie we’ll need her in ten.’

  I walked back through the vacuous room that had quickly been converted into our studio for the day.

  ‘Gracie?’ I said, approaching the crowd. ‘Vin says we’ll need you in about ten minutes.’

  ‘That’s cool,’ she said, assessing me. ‘I’ve not met you before, are you Vin’s assistant?’

  ‘I’m Jess. I’m new,’ I said, as I turned to walk away.

  She held out her hand to shake mine. ‘I’m Gracie. It’s nice to meet you. You know, we all love Vin here. You’re pretty lucky that you get to work with him.’

  ‘I know I am,’ I said, smiling.

  ‘Massive problem,’ Vin said as I stepped back over the cables. I could see he had been on the phone and was pacing around the camera.

  ‘What’s happened?’ I said.

  ‘Tony’s assistant’s stuck in traffic on the other side of the Thames and it’s very doubtful he’ll get here in time.’

  ‘Who’s Tony?’ I whispered, crouching down beside him, unzipping the lenses from their cases.

  ‘He’s the lighting technician.’

  ‘Well, I can assist you both,’ I said, quietly. ‘I’ve almost finished a course at night school. I at least know my way around a bulb or two.’

  ‘Good job,’ Vin said, as he walked off. ‘Go and see Tony, I’ll shout up if I need you.’

  I walked over to the lights and began setting up the tripods. As the house lights dimmed and the music got louder, we were finally ready to start shooting.

  ‘This lighting is fucking magnificent,’ Vin said, snapping away as Gracie turned around to face him. ‘What’ya think about that, Jess?’ he said to me, laughing.

  I looked at the laptop that was connected to his camera and gave him the thumbs up as they flashed onto the screen. They were beautiful.

  ‘Vin,’ I said as he was in between shots.

  ‘Shout up, Jess?’

  ‘Well, you know that you said if I had an idea I should come to you?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Well, I’ve thought of another way you could shoot it.’

  He smiled briefly, and nodded for me to continue.

  ‘The backlight looks amazing against the shape of the dress,’ I said, carefully. ‘But if we lit it from the front we would also get the texture. And that’s what interests me most about this fabric.’ I trailed off, and turned to Tony for a second opinion.

  ‘We could rearrange a third light somewhere over here,’ he said, waving to the side.

  ‘Let’s do it,’ Vin said, as I handed him the camera.

  I quickly ran over to the equipment bags and pulled the extra cables from inside a zip wallet.

  After asking Gracie to stand a little more to the left and gesturing carefully towards the wall, Vin crouched down and shone the lens up, causing a flare of the artificial light against the black quilting on her dress. ‘Fucking brilliant!’ he said, clapping. ‘Okay, that’s a wrap everyone, thanks so much for your help today.’

  And just like that it was over. As soon as they heard Vin’s voice, two assistants wrapped a huge puffer jacket around Gracie and helped her into a pair of sheepskin boots.

  ‘Start packing all this away and I’ll take a look at the laptop,’ Vin said to me. ‘Then we’ll head back to the office and see what’s what from today.’

  I opened the silver cases and began curling the cables around my elbow. I loaded up the memory card onto the laptop and could see over 1,000 images from that day alone. As I downloaded them into a folder, I could feel Vin breathing over my shoulder, his eyes transfixed on the tumbling imagery.

  ‘Guess I got a little snap happy towards the end there, didn’t I?’ he said, meticulously watching them flash by.

  ‘They look amazing,’ I said.

  ‘Jess, I need an honest opinion, not a fan. Now tell me properly, what are you seeing?’

  ‘I think the ones at the beginning are quite weak. In my opinion, you need to focus on the close-up section. They’re more obscure and a little different.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, without looking at me. ‘Much better.’ He was scribbling a list of numbers on a piece of paper before handing it to me. ‘I saw a lot of potential from you today. I want to see you apply yourself and work hard because not too long from now, you could be the one running the show, d’ya hear?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Now read me back the numbers of the shots that I flagged; I need them to be shortlisted before we take them back to the office.’

  I glanced at the piece of paper and secretly let out a smile. He had just given me a mini pat on the back; in Vin’s world, encouragement.

  ‘Jess?’ he said, impatiently.

  ‘Sorry.’ I pulled open the paper and began reading the numbers out slowly. ‘0011,’ I said, working my way down the list with my finger. ‘0069, 1082, 1024…’

  Chapter Nineteen – The Deep Blue Sea

  We were approaching spring. If rain were to fall now, it would be torrential. A moist heat that threatened thunder had hung in the air for days. It was just before sunrise and I was on my way to the local swimming baths in need of a quick swim before the day began – exactly the same way I had begun most mornings these past few weeks. I had grown to rely on the feeling of weightlessness that the pool gave, a welcome respite from the rigor of a new job. I pulled on my red swimming costume and tiptoed across the cold tiled floor to the edge of the communal pool. I dipped my foot in first to test the water. It was cold, but not bitter. I tied up my hair and spontaneously dove sharply into the pool, submerged.

  As the sun rose across the pale blue water, all the things I was unable to do each day without worrying or overthinking seemed secondary: it was bliss. I swam fast and hard, powering my legs through the otherwise tranquil water, pushing, gliding and kicking my way through. In a matter of minutes I’d reached the other side and came up for air in a welcome blast of oxygen; I felt light and then heavy again. A gasp of air hit the walls of my lungs as the water trickled down my face. The short sprint had taken my breath away.

  *

  The sounds came and went softly. It began with metal pans clattering in the kitchen, the distant noise of the television, the irritating high-pitched voice of cartoon characters, all unforgiving to tired ears. A smell of burning toast slipped quietly under the door as Marlowe’s head re-emerged from underneath the bath water. She ran her forefinger along the white bathroom tiles, moist with condensation before slowly sinking back beneath the water, faint bubbles rising from her nose as she went. Because the noise seemed to fade beneath the surface and she could forget about everything that waited for her on the other side of the bathroom door. She watched as a yellow rubber duck sailed passed her hip and down towards her feet at the far end of the tub. It stopped briefly, getting caught up in the bubbles, spinning slightly from the weight of the current. She reached out and pushed it, gently sending it on its way, watching its hard, orange beak turn gracefully as it bobbed past.

  ‘Mars,’ George said through the door.

  She tipped back her head so that the water covered her ears, playfully going in and out of earshot, a childish rebellion that she had reverted back to in recent months.

  ‘Marlowe,’ he repeated, this time trying the door handle.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied, her head fully breaking free from the water.

  ‘Is Elsa allowed eggs?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Elsa, she grabbed a bit of my scrambled egg and before I knew it she’d chucked it in her mouth. What should I do?’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Marlowe said, ‘she eats eggs all the time.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said, quietly. She could tell from the tone of his voice that he wa
s getting irritable. ‘Well, how long are you going to be in there because I have to leave in thirty minutes and I’ve not started packing yet.’

  ‘Where are you going, again?’ she asked, lifting her body from the water and rubbing her feet dry on the bath mat.

  ‘Luxembourg. We talked about it, remember? Look, Elsa’s getting really fidgety and she says she only wants you.’

  Marlowe sat down on the cream marble floor and gently began rubbing the towel through her wet hair. Her arm collapsed beside her in defeat. She pulled in her knees and hugged them tightly under her chin.

  ‘Mars?’ George said, banging loudly on the door.

  ‘Coming,’ she said as she stood up to open the bathroom door.

  ‘Why are your eyes bloodshot?’ he asked, still doing up his tie. ‘You look like you’ve been crying.’

  ‘Shampoo,’ Marlowe said, as she squeezed past him.

  It had been a relatively uneventful Thursday and I was currently on all fours in Charlie’s kitchen. We had decided, in a moment of madness, to deep clean the kitchen, an optimistic idea that was quickly followed by regret as soon as we had emptied the cupboards. Surrounded by an inexplicable amount of tins of beans and packets of dried pasta I looked over at Charlie with a rather regretful look on my face.

  ‘Why did we start to do this?’ I said, wringing the sponge into a bucket of warm, soapy water. ‘I’ve never met anyone in my life who doesn’t own a mop.’

  It had actually been my idea to get rid of his cleaner in favour of being responsible for our own mess. We were keeping things real, taking care of our own duties, together. His side of the bargain was that he was meant to be spraying the surfaces. When I say spraying, I mean drinking a beer from the bottle with one eye on the sport coming from the television in the corner of the room. As I picked up the bucket of murky water to empty it in the sink I could feel my phone vibrating in my jeans pocket.