The Making of Mia

by Ilana Fox

  After ten minutes Lucy looked at Jo in amazement. Her eyes were shining, and she kept on looking from the portfolio to Jo in bewilderment. Lucy couldn’t believe that the dumpy, mousy girl in front of her had produced ideas that anyone on the team would be proud to call their own. ‘This is fantastic – I can’t believe Josh would tell you otherwise.’

  Jo felt herself brimming with pleasure, and she smiled. Coming from one of the editorial team this meant a lot to her. Perhaps her lifetime of hard work and struggle had been worth it after all. ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘Yes, I do. Each of these is the perfect Gloss feature – they’re funny, smart, sexy – and they look the part too. This is exactly what Madeline Turner tries to make us achieve but we can never seem to. They truly are fucking amazing. I’m impressed.’

  Jo felt her smile fading. ‘Why didn’t Joshua think so?’

  Lucy sighed but didn’t take her eyes off the portfolio. ‘Did he look at these properly?’

  Jo shook her head. Joshua had barely even flicked through them.

  ‘Well then. If he had, he would have snapped you up to be a feature writer on the spot. If I was in charge – or a features editor like Araminta at the very least – I would.’

  Jo wasn’t consoled. ‘But how do I make him listen to me? It’s like banging my head against a brick wall. He can’t see past me being his PA.’

  Lucy chewed on her lip and Jo was struck at how such an innocent gesture looked sexy on her. ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘Joshua Garnet is a good publisher if you ask me, but he’s not so good at seeing things that aren’t obvious. I’d love to have come up with just one of these ideas – if I had I’m willing to bet Joshua would give me a promotion. Or, at the very least, one of those rewarding smouldering smiles he only turns on when we have been good girls.’

  Jo laughed. She’d seen that look.

  Lucy stared at her with a strange expression. ‘But what if I did pitch one of your ideas in the next meeting? How would you feel about that?’ Lucy’s voice was neutral, and Jo felt her smile suddenly freeze.

  ‘Are you asking for my ideas?’

  Lucy shook her head. ‘I could say they’re from a freelancer I know – someone who lives in America or something so she can’t come into the office.’

  Jo looked reluctant, but Lucy was insistent. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know if your ideas really are good enough? Look, you’ve tried to pitch them and nobody seems to be interested, but what if I tried? What if Joshua just can’t see past you to realise what great ideas these are?’

  ‘I suppose it would be OK,’ Jo said slowly. ‘If you think it will work. But what piece do you think we should go for?’

  Lucy flicked through the portfolio and landed on a beautifully designed page.

  ‘How about this one?’ she said, with a glint of amusement in her eyes. ‘We’d be killing two birds with one stone if Joshua and Madeline gave the thumbs up to this.’

  Jo smiled. It was one of her best ideas, and she knew that if Madeline liked this one she’d be able to prove Joshua Garnet wrong. ‘Why not?’ she said with a smirk, and she gathered up her belongings to go back to her desk.

  Lucy grinned. ‘I just wonder who will volunteer to be the guinea pig.’

  ‘Lizzie, that’s brilliant,’ Madeline said in the next editorial conference. As Jo kept the minutes she flicked through the notes from the previous meetings, and realised with a jolt that the script for almost all of them was the same. Lizzie suggested a rubbish fashion idea – normally based around men she wanted to fuck, she noticed – and then when Madeline chided her she came up with a brilliant idea, seemingly off the cuff. Madeline applauded her, Lizzie basked in her innovative brilliance, and then suddenly everyone else piled in, offering their ideas to a now-contented Madeline. Jo looked up at Lucy and caught her eye. Well, she thought, today would be different.

  ‘And Lucy, what about you?’

  Jo sat up slightly straighter and tried not to look directly at Lucy or at Joshua. She kept her head tilted downwards as though she were concentrating on her notes, and hoped she wouldn’t blush. If Madeline went for this, she thought, not only would she have confirmation that she was good enough, but she’d have contributed to Gloss without Joshua even knowing. Jo’s heart pounded.

  ‘Have you all heard the rumour about how Keira Knightley landed the lead in next summer’s blockbuster?’ Lucy began, as she looked around at the ten or so journalists with her eyes shimmering. She was wearing a dark grey sequinned T-shirt that fell off one shoulder, her trademark black skinny Sass & Bide jeans and red Gucci mules. She commanded the attention and respect of everyone, and Jo was impressed at how she provoked interest in her idea already. Keira Knightley was still the hottest actress in the UK, but Jo knew that there had been too many features about her in the magazines lately. There had been a Keira overkill that Gloss had steered away from, but if Lucy pitched this right, there would be a whole new angle to create a fresh feature.

  ‘Apparently she walked straight into the casting agent’s office after reading the novel it’s based on, and she persuaded him to give her a deal just by smiling at him. She didn’t even say a word. He knew he’d be stupid if he didn’t give her the part – she’s that good.’

  Madeline Turner looked up at Lucy. ‘Is that true?’

  Helena interrupted. ‘I don’t think it is, you know,’ she brayed. ‘It’s just one of those industry rumours. But you have to hand it to the girl; she’s managed to get the column inches without having done very much. Why, I could do better myself.’

  Jo forced herself not to look at Lucy and struggled to write everything down. She could feel bemusement rippling from where Lucy was sitting and Jo knew that if she caught her eye she’d start laughing. Helena was a tall, horsy-looking girl who produced some of the most mediocre articles Jo had had to type up when she was working with Frieda in the secretarys’ office. Keira Knightley had more talent in her little fingernail than Helena had in her whole body, but Helena was one of those self-possessed girls who was over-confident with Daddy’s money. She didn’t seriously think she could take on Keira and win, did she?

  ‘Which leads me to this article, which has actually been sent in by a friend of mine,’ Lucy said smoothly. ‘There’s definitely something about Keira. She’s tall and gangly, but we still can’t seem to get enough of her. She’s not the best actress, but she’s managed to get more column inches than Scarlett Johansson did for Lost in Translation. She’s hot, but nobody knows why. I think we can safely say that as long as Keira Knightley has that x-factor she’ll be successful.’

  Joshua interrupted, looking at his steel Officine Panerai watch impatiently. ‘So what’s the idea?’

  Lucy flashed Joshua a smile to placate him. ‘We take a girl off the street, condition her into acting like Keira would – you know, she acts sexy, special, full of English-rose charm – and we make her a star. We devote pages on how to get the x-factor, conveniently forgetting of course that it’s not something you can buy in a shop, but focus on the fashion, the beauty and the attitude of the x-factor. We turn the girl into a babe, the type of girl who could walk into a casting director’s office and get a ten-million-dollar lead part just by giving him a sparkly grin. And most importantly we show our readers that you can change your life without spending hundreds on designer clothes.’

  Joshua looked doubtful. ‘I doubt our advertisers will like that.’

  ‘But our readers will,’ Madeline said, her eyes glowing. ‘Lucy, this is a brilliant idea, absolutely fantastic.’

  In the corner Jo struggled not to jump for joy.

  ‘Lizzie, scrap your fashion idea about Paris couture, I want you to concentrate on what the high street is offering, and to scour charity shops for bargains. We’re going to give the whole magazine an x-factor theme. Araminta, I want to see real-life pieces abut girls with the x-factor, and, Charlotte, make sure the beauty is affordable and in keeping with Keira. Perhaps offer solutions on how to get
the look that Keira will sport next without even knowing it. We need someone to be the girl from the street …’

  Madeline’s eyes swept over the room, and she lingered briefly on Jo before settling on Helena, who looked fit to burst.

  ‘Helena?’ Madeline said, with a hint of amusement in her voice. ‘Something tells me you’d like a stab at this?’

  Helena beamed at Madeline. ‘I think I’d be perfect at it, actually,’ she said in her haughty voice. ‘I have the looks, I have the body to wear any type of fashion, and, really, how hard can this be?’ She leant forward and spoke directly to Madeline. ‘I always thought that it would be quite easy to be like Keira Knightley,’ she said in a confident voice. ‘Why, if the girls made me over properly I could be the blonde version of her.’

  Lucy let out a snort of laughter and hid it with a coughing fit. Madeline looked over at her, and Jo wondered if she was trying to grin through the stiff mask of her face. ‘Lucy, I need you to co-ordinate this piece with Helena. Helena needs to write it from her perspective, but I need this freelancer to write the lead article, give some background into what the x-factor is … Who did you say came up with this idea again?’

  Lucy caught Jo’s eye but remained calm. ‘She’s called Olivia Windsor,’ Lucy said, using the fake name that Jo had suggested to her earlier, ‘and I worked on a local paper with her after I left journalism college.’

  ‘Well, I want her in here,’ Madeline said.

  ‘She’s based in New York at the moment,’ Lucy said smoothly. ‘She freelances out there. But I’m sure she’d love to come in next time she’s in town.’

  ‘Fine,’ Madeline said, and she turned back to her notepad. ‘Now, Lucy, if you could ask Olivia if she could—’

  ‘Now hang on a minute …’ Joshua interrupted, and Madeline whizzed round in her chair to look at him. ‘This is all well and good but you’re not thinking straight. Chanel are taking four pages in this issue, and they’re not going to like being placed next to bargain-basement fashion.’

  Madeline held his gaze. ‘But they are going to like the boost in circulation of what I predict will be our bestselling issue. Our readers have lipstick-lesbian crushes on Knightley so I’m going to get her on the cover. With no clothes on. So who wouldn’t want to buy it?’

  Lucy looked at Jo with wide eyes – she had never seen Madeline so animated about anything.

  ‘And how are you going to do that?’ Joshua said easily, looking at his wife. ‘Are you going to phone Keira up? Offer her a diamond-encrusted eye-patch she can wear in the next Pirates film?’

  Madeline shot Joshua a scornful look. ‘Of course I’m going to phone her up, don’t be ridiculous.’ She turned back to the rest of the editorial team. ‘We need to get cracking, so everyone come up with your new outlines by the end of the day and present them to me before you leave for the evening. Lucy, it’s time we promoted you to joint features editor with Araminta.’ Lucy’s mouth dropped open, and Araminta shot Madeline a sour look. ‘Thanks for the meeting, everyone, well done.’

  Jo sat frozen in her chair as the editorial team filtered out of the meeting room. She felt like she was in a dream, and she couldn’t believe that one of her ideas, something she had come up with in ten minutes late one evening while surrounded by take-away cartons, was going to alter the whole of the next issue of Gloss.

  Lucy sat back in her chair and waited until everyone apart from her and Jo had left the room.

  ‘Now do you believe me when I say your ideas are good?’

  Jo looked at her, dumbfounded, and didn’t know what to say. A small voice in the back of her head told her that she had known she was good enough all along.

  September 2003

  When the magazine hit the streets the editorial team celebrated the x-factor issue of Gloss being an instant hit. Joshua opened bottles of Veuve Clicquot to toast the fact that he’d ordered a reprint of that issue, and Jo overheard Madeline telling someone on the telephone that because of the x-factor theme, circulation had tripled. Even though Jo was used to hearing the advertising sales team embellishing the circulation figures to sell advertising space, Jo knew that Madeline’s figures were true. Even Harold Garnet sent an email from his yacht in the Bahamas to congratulate the team on their success. Nobody thought for a moment that the shy, overweight girl in the corner was the brains behind it.

  When Jo took a copy of the magazine home with her she sat on her floor and stared at the cover, letting silent, joyful tears gently slide down her face. Without her this issue of Gloss wouldn’t have an exclusive interview and fashion shoot with Keira Knightley, the hilarious article where Helena unintentionally proved that the x-factor couldn’t be faked, and more pages of advertising than any other issue of Gloss had carried. Jo bit into a bar of chocolate and tried not to feel glum that it wasn’t Jo Hill who had become an instant success at Gloss, but Olivia Windsor.

  ‘Try not to think about it,’ Lucy said over the phone that night. ‘You’ve made a mark on the magazine and you’re well in there now.’

  Jo didn’t smile. ‘But how am I going to get paid?’ she asked, ‘or what happens if Madeline wants to phone Olivia up, or wants to fly her out to London, or …’ her voice trailed off. She wasn’t sure she could be Joshua’s PA, write as Olivia Windsor, and keep up the deception at work. She was exhausted.

  Lucy’s voice sounded triumphant down the phone. ‘I’ve sorted it all out. One, your money is being paid directly to me as Garnet Publishing won’t pay invoices in dollars, and apparently “Olivia’s” bank in the States won’t accept English cheques. Two, Madeline won’t need to phone Olivia up, as it’s the job of the features editor to do that. And three, Olivia can’t be flown out because she’s too busy freelancing,’ Lucy finished with a flourish.

  ‘Do you really think this will work?’ Jo said quietly down the phone.

  Lucy laughed. ‘Babes, it already is working. Now listen, I need your bank account details as I have a hot two thousand pounds just desperate to be transferred to you, and I also need five feature ideas for the meeting tomorrow morning.’

  Jo looked through her notebook and began to smile. She could do this. She was going to do this. ‘No problem,’ she said breezily.

  ‘Good,’ Lucy said. ‘And, Jo, make sure they’re as good as the last one.’

  Chapter Ten

  March 2004

  ‘And what has Olivia Windsor got for us today?’ Madeline Turner asked Lucy, who was sitting at the meeting table with sheets of paper stacked neatly in front of her. As Lucy read out the list of Jo’s ideas in a clear, confident and cut-glass voice, Jo realised just how lucky she was that she could count Lucy as a friend. Lucy’s eyes glittered under the palest blue eyeshadow as they skimmed ‘Olivia’s’ list of features, and her lithe body was dressed in a Prada slate-grey shift dress that highlighted her long neck and limbs. Jo turned to Madeline to gauge her reaction to her newest ideas and her heart flipped when she spotted the editor looking impressed. Even though she had been writing for Gloss for months it still gave her a buzz to see Madeline nodding in approval.

  ‘Tell Olivia that I’d like to run the piece about women’s fashion adopting masculine lines for the July issue, but I’d like the article about DIY fashion for this month, along with the “how women can have it all” piece. Thanks.’

  Lucy shot a quick look at Jo, and Jo tried to focus on the minutes she was meant to be keeping. It was hard – her brain was already racing on how she’d compose her pieces.

  Jo had been writing as Olivia Windsor for nearly eight months, and her bank account was beginning to look healthier. Lucy suggested that Jo start her own company so that her freelance cheques from Gloss could be made out to a company name rather than going through her, and Jo spent most of her next pay packet on an accountant who created Platinum Consulting for her. The finance division of Garnet Publishing duly made out their cheques to Jo’s company after ‘Olivia’ sent them a letter on Platinum Consulting headed paper, and Jo watched he
r bank balance grow. She transferred what she needed to her current account on a monthly basis, but the rest of the time she imagined the golden pound coins given to her courtesy of Gloss multiplying in a vault. For the first time in her life she had over £25,000 in savings, and it felt good.

  But not as good as it was every time Jo saw one of her articles in Gloss. The first time Jo had seen something she’d written in print she’d actually given a loud whoop of joy, but when Joshua had frowned at her she had forced herself to remain composed, despite her jubilation. Since then Jo had remembered to stay in control of her emotions, but with more and more features appearing in print she was always on a high on publication day, even if the name ‘Olivia Windsor’ appeared as a byline rather than ‘Jo Hill’.

  Jo was – on the inside, at least – a different person. Not only was she a published writer at the age of twenty-one, but Olivia Windsor was the envy of everyone at Gloss, the talk of all the staff within Garnet Publishing and the hottest new writer to hit the news-stands. Every idea Jo pitched was accepted, and after only a few months her writing dominated the magazine – ‘Olivia’ was an instant hit, partly because of Jo’s writing talent, but also because Jo used her editorial-meeting notes to her advantage. If Madeline mentioned she was interested in a piece on what true love really was, the next day Jo would formulate her pitch. Even though being a PA at Gloss was boring as hell, Jo was using it to give her the edge.

  As Madeline rounded up the meeting, Jo hurried to make sure that her minutes summed up everything that had been said, and she rushed through the pages of her notebook checking that everything was correct. Jo was finding it increasingly difficult to stay alert in the daytime, and as she pretended to pay attention to what Madeline was saying about an editorial team-bonding session she accidentally let out a long yawn. Joshua Garnet caught her eye and looked displeased, and Jo spotted Araminta smirking. Shit, Jo thought, as she tried to stifle another one. She had to try to get an early night tonight and leave her feature on why girls loved boy bands for the weekend.