Climbing the Ladder

by Amanda Radley

  Helen pushed herself back from the desk and stood up. “If that’s the case, I can’t possibly engage in an interview. My legal team would never allow it. As a professional, I’m sure you understand?”

  Donna stood up as well. Panic was clear in her eyes. “Absolutely, we’re both professionals, I’m sure we can figure something out,” she appealed.

  Chloe couldn’t blame her. This was probably the interview of her career. While the podcast had many listeners, it hadn’t quite broken through to booking celebrities. With the likes of the editor-in-chief of Honey Magazine, it could be a stepping stone that Donna was clearly eager to get on.

  “How about we do this in one take?” Helen suggested. “I’m sure a professional such as yourself can manage that? If you agree to broadcast the show exactly as it happens, then I’ll be happy to proceed. However, if I later find out that the interview has been edited in any way, I will potentially have to seek legal advice. I’m sure you’ll understand?”

  “Absolutely,” Donna said. “I completely agree. And that sounds absolutely fine. I’m sure, between the both of us, we can manage. Aside from topping and tailing the show with the standard marketing messages, there won’t be a need to edit.”

  “Wonderful.” Helen sat down again. “Of course, we’ll stay to see the final version of the show be uploaded.”

  Chloe’s stomach growled at the thought. It was going to be a long night.

  “You’re more than welcome to stay,” Donna confirmed.

  “Wonderful. Let’s begin.”

  Donna went through some housekeeping. It was exactly the same exact speech she had given Chloe the day before. Chloe bit down on her cheek at the memory. She’d been so excited, so eager to help Honey, that she’d walked right into Donna’s well-placed trap.

  She wanted to turn the equipment off, grab Donna by her T-shirt, and pull her to her feet. She wanted to demand to know why Donna had conned her. To ask what she had ever done to her.

  Donna started the show. She introduced Helen, carefully avoiding mentioning anything to do with Honey’s financial difficulties which had been so centre stage in her previous show. Chloe wondered if Donna was perhaps a little frightened of Helen or just respectful of how useful an ally she could be.

  “Thank you, Donna,” Helen said. “It’s a delight to be on the show.”

  “You’re welcome, it’s great to have you here. I was wondering—”

  “If I may,” Helen interrupted, “I’d like to address a couple of issues that were brought up on your show yesterday.”

  The phrasing gave Donna little opportunity to say no. “Yes, of course.”

  “I just wanted to say that Chloe Dixon, whom you spoke to yesterday, was slightly misquoted.”

  Slightly? Chloe thought. That’s being generous.

  “I’m not sure why,” Helen said with a small chuckle, “but it came across as if Honey was in financial difficulty. And I simply must put a stop to those rumours. Honey is nowhere near closing the doors. We are a successful, buoyant company, and any rumours of cashflow issues are grossly exaggerated. As the editor-in-chief, I can tell you with my hand on my heart that our balance sheet is sturdy.”

  “Would it be accurate to say that Honey is struggling?” Donna fished.

  “Oh, absolutely,” Helen said.

  Chloe’s head snapped up. She stared at Helen, wondering if she’d gone mad. Or if she was leading into some kind of joke.

  “As is every other magazine probably in the world,” Helen continued. “Print is a dated medium, as is the act of paying for great quality content. But I have to say that the magazine industry has never been an easy one. I don’t think you’ll find a single editor who would ever say that it’s easy. And that’s one of the reasons why I love the industry, and Honey in particular, so much.

  “I do fear,” Helen admitted, “where things are going. Subscriptions are down across the board for magazines, and Honey is not immune. I think that’s a shame, not just because I am in charge and because it provides me with my livelihood, but because Honey is special. Honey is something unique in our world. But I think that maybe people have taken it for granted. That they assume it will always be there. But the truth is, it might not be.

  “I think, and I’m sure you’ll agree, Donna, with more LBT women than ever being out it’s important to have an outlet dedicated to us, to our culture, to our interests, to our community. Honey Magazine isn’t just about saying we love women, it’s so much more than that. The magazine promotes movies, TV shows, books, and albums. Everything created by people within our community. It’s with that insight into the community, what we produce, what we consume, that we, as a community, will continue to grow. And not be ignored. I worry that with the general trend of magazine distribution shrinking, magazines like Honey will lose the opportunity to be a showcase for our pooled talents. We need a voice. And I don’t just say that as the editor of a magazine. I say that as a lesbian woman. As someone who grew up wondering why I was different, and if I would ever, ever find someone else like me in the world.

  “Well, I did, and it was glorious. I think everyone in our situation will remember a time when they felt utterly alone. A time when they felt like no one else was like them. And if Honey can reach out to just one person and say to them ‘you’re not alone,’ then I feel it’s worth fighting for. And I’ve had a successful day at work.”

  It took everything within Chloe to not stand up and applaud. It was everything that she had ever thought about Honey Magazine, and her community as a whole.

  She didn’t believe in walls that separated people, but she did believe in safe spaces where people could experience their own culture without having to fight through all the mainstream noise.

  Helen got that. Helen understood exactly how Chloe, and many thousands of other women, were feeling.

  Chloe’s chest expanded with pride. Even to just be the person who led Helen to Donna Hayward’s parents’ shed at the bottom of a garden in Greater London. It was a small thing, one she had no say in, but she’d been a small part of allowing people to hear Helen speak.

  Even Donna seemed shaken. She blinked a couple of times, seemingly gathering her thoughts.

  “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. That is one of the reasons why I set up the podcast. We need representation, we need content for our corner of the world,” Donna said, her head vigorously nodding.

  “Absolutely, I’m glad we agree. I would love nothing more an explosion of LBT media, and that includes podcasts, magazines, movies, television, books, anything you can imagine. I want there to be as much LBT content as humanly possible. I want to show the world what we can produce, how incredible it is. And not just for us. It’s for everyone to see.

  “When LBT producers come up with a fantastic movie, I want to use our community to springboard that movie into the spotlight. Honey Magazine, and other outlets, are the stepping stone, the springboard, to showcasing our talent to the world.”

  “Yes! Exactly!” Donna was excited now. She sat forward in her chair, eagerly nodding her agreement with Helen’s words. “There is no reason why our content shouldn’t be front and centre with the rest of the world’s mainstream content.”

  “Of course not, but it’s a crowded market space,” Helen said. “With innovations in technology, so many people are able to create independent movies, albums, books, plays—anything, really. That makes for a very busy marketplace, lots and lots of content. We need our media spaces in order to showcase our content. Picking up a copy of Honey Magazine isn’t a political statement, it’s not a dating magazine. It’s so much more than that. It’s curated content about our community, showcasing our talent. It’s essential work, I’m sure you’ll agree, Donna. After all, we are in the same business.”

  Donna continued nodding like an excited puppy ready for its first walk.

  “We are, we really are.”

  “I believe,” Helen said, “that having a publication like Honey is as important
now as it was when it launched twenty-four years ago. But maybe I’m wrong.”

  Chloe stared at Helen. She wondered what she was about to say. A chill ran up her spine. Of course, Helen wasn’t wrong. Chloe couldn’t even begin to fathom that she was. Everything that Helen had just said had been nothing short of a masterstroke of genius. She spoke with such passion and determination. Chloe would have loved to have been able to articulate her feelings in such a powerful way.

  “If subscriber numbers continue to drop,” Helen said, “then I’m wrong. And Honey isn’t relevant anymore.”

  Even Donna looked dumbstruck at the very idea. Somehow, Helen had managed to get Donna to perform a complete one-eighty. From trying to bring Honey down around Chloe’s ears to suddenly looking almost distraught at the idea of that happening. Visibly upset at the notion of Honey being irrelevant.

  “I hope I’m wrong,” Helen said. “I hope that people continue to find Honey as relevant, exciting, innovative, and interesting as it has always been. But the proof will be in the sales figures. We strive to produce the best-quality magazine we can, we do extensive market research to ensure that what we are putting into the magazine is what our readers want. That’s the best we can do: produce the best we can. If people don’t pick it up, then maybe I am wrong and maybe Honey is irrelevant in today’s modern society. Time will tell.”

  Understanding washed over Chloe. It was a call to arms. It was masterfully done, subtle but somehow honest and from the heart.

  Donna’s brow was furrowed. She looked at Helen like someone who had found a kindred spirit, maybe even a leader.

  “I really could not have said it better myself,” she said. “Everything you’ve just said hits the nail right on the head, and that’s why we need to support our LBT spaces. We fought to have these things, we need to ensure we continue to support them.”

  Donna was on board, and Chloe was left to wonder what on earth she had done to offend her so much the previous day.

  The interview continued on. Donna asked questions and Helen answered them. There was a friendliness that had been missing from the day before. Things seemed lighter, and the future appeared brighter.

  Chloe tuned out. She was too busy looking at Helen. She sat stone still, staring at the woman who had just given such an impassioned speech. It was everything Chloe felt and more. She knew she was looking at her new hero.

  If Donna’s audience was rallied enough and started to pick up copies of Honey, maybe even to subscribe, then perhaps things would be okay. Hopefully, the business would be saved.

  And maybe Chloe could convince herself that doing the podcast in the first place wasn’t a huge mistake. Okay, so she’d needed Helen’s help. But they never would have had the opportunity without Chloe contacting Donna to start with.

  But all of that faded into the background. Because now Chloe had a new problem. She was no longer concerned about the fact she had nearly brought down Honey in her first week. She was worried about the fact that her out-of-control crush on Helen Featherstone had quickly developed into full-on hero worship.

  Maybe she did need to look for a new job after all.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “So, how was I?” Helen asked.

  Amazing, incredible, unbelievable, awe-inspiring, Chloe thought.

  “Good,” she said. “I mean really good.”

  There was a very fine line between trying to keep her crush a secret and sounding like she was unimpressed. A fine line that Chloe struggled to walk.

  Helen nodded. She had seemed deep in thought ever since they had started up the quiet, residential street towards the local station to get their respective trains home.

  “I think it will help,” Chloe added, realising she needed to say something else.

  “I hope so. It is true that Honey isn’t quite destitute yet, but we are in trouble. And I meant what I said, I do think Honey is an important vehicle for our community. And the salary is quite nice, too.”

  Chloe chuckled at the joke. She was about to reply when her mobile phone rang. She got her phone out of her bag and saw that it was her parents. Or at least one of them.

  “I’m sorry, I have to get this.”

  “Of course, you’re not technically at work anymore,” Helen commented.

  Chloe answered the call. “Hello?”

  “Hello, it’s me,” Mum said loudly. She was on loudspeaker, so of course she was shouting at the top of her lungs. Chloe suspected that Helen could hear her, if the small smirk on her face was anything to go by.

  “Hi Mum,” Chloe greeted. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, I’m just checking if you like broccoli?”

  Chloe’s cheeks flushed with heat.

  “Well, no, not really,” she admitted in a small voice. There was something devastating about admitting to disliking broccoli in front of your very sexy boss.

  Helen tutted softly under her breath. Chloe glanced at her. She winked. If it was possible, Chloe’s cheeks became hotter, and her heart slammed against her rib cage.

  “What about cauliflower?” Mum asked.

  “Yeah, that’s fine,” Chloe said.

  “Oh, good, and you’re not on any weird health kick at the moment, are you? Like, you can eat gluten? Yes?”

  “Yes.” Chloe couldn’t believe this conversation was happening right now. “No health kick, everything is normal. Anything else?”

  “No, just that. I thought you liked broccoli?” Mum questioned.

  Chloe wanted to die. She was right back to where she was a couple of hours earlier on the train, wishing to somehow vanish into nothingness. Why did she answer the call? Why did Mum suddenly not recall her vegetable preferences?

  “I don’t, Mum,” Chloe admitted. She hoped that not giving her mother any more fuel would bring the conversation to a speedy end.

  She was wrong.

  “What is it you don’t like about it?” Mum asked.

  Helen’s shoulders shook as she tried to contain her laughter.

  “Can we talk about this later, Mum?” Chloe asked.

  “Why?” Her mother wasn’t great at catching a hint. Or letting something go.

  “Because I’m with someone,” Chloe said.

  “Who?”

  Chloe resisted the urge to throw the phone across the street, watch it shatter, and then continue walking to the train station as if nothing had ever happened.

  “My boss,” she said.

  “The stuck-up one?” Mum asked.

  This time Helen did laugh out loud. She looked at Chloe with an amused raised eyebrow.

  “I never said she was stuck up, I never said anyone was stuck up,” Chloe said into the phone. She looked Helen. “I never said anyone was stuck up,” she promised.

  “Hmm,” Helen said noncommittally, a grin on her face.

  Helen seem to be having a great time at Chloe’s expense. Chloe was simply relieved that she wasn’t angry.

  “You said…” Mum began.

  “Look, I need to go. Can I talk to you later, Mum?” Chloe said quickly, putting an end to her mum repeating whatever she thought Chloe had said. Things that she no doubt hadn’t said at all but that her mother had deciphered from random comments.

  “Okay, okay. Oh, by the way, Dad listened to that podcast. That’s Donna Hayward, isn’t it?”

  Chloe frowned. She didn’t remember mentioning Donna’s name when she spoke to her parents the other night.

  “Yes, do you know her?” she asked. It wasn’t unusual for her parents to speak about people like they knew them personally when they didn’t. Anyone on TV was fair game. You’d think Mum frequently had movie stars around for dinner the way she quoted things they had apparently said. But mentioning Donna Hayward was a bit of a stretch.

  “Yes,” Mum said, as it was obvious. “Donna.”

  “Yes, I know her name, how do you know her?” Chloe asked.

  “You were at university with her. When I came to visit you, you were late back from cla
ss, and I spoke to her and her cousin. When you got back you introduced me. She seemed quite nice. But not her cousin, Eloise.” Mum said the name as if she had a terrible smell under her nose.

  Helen stop walking. Chloe stopped, too. She turned and saw that Helen had gone deathly pale.

  “I have to go, Mum, I’ll call you later.” Chloe hung up the call. She took a step towards Helen. “Are you okay?”

  “Eloise Hayward,” Helen said. “It didn’t even occur to me. It’s such a common name.”

  “You know her?”

  “The high schooler,” Helen breathed. “Donna is my soon-to-be ex-wife’s partner’s cousin.”

  Chloe’s eyes widened.

  “It seems I owe you an apology, Chloe,” Helen said, in the quiet of the street. “Donna wasn’t after you, she was after me. Clearly, Eloise spoke to her about me, who knows what was said. And then you came along–and with you the opportunity to trash Honey. Of course, she took it.”

  It made sense. Chloe had been trying to come up with a reason why Donna had sabotaged her interview, but with no success. Even in the deepest recesses of her mind she couldn’t remember, or even imagine, doing anything that would make Donna hold a grudge for years after.

  “I wonder why she didn’t do the same today,” Helen mused. “I was sat right there, it would have been easy for her to turn the interview around again. But we both just heard the version that’s being sent live. And she seemed rather positive. What changed her mind?”

  “You did,” Chloe said without thinking. “It’s because you spoke with such passion, there’s no way she could disagree with what you are saying. Anyone would have agreed with you.”

  The colour started to return to Helen’s face. She smiled and tilted her head to the side. “I thought you said I was just good?”

  “I said very good,” Chloe corrected.

  “You did,” Helen agreed with a smile.

  “I think you convinced Donna that we’re on the same side.”

  “Maybe so.” Helen shook her head as if to banish bad thoughts. She gestured with her hand to suggest they continue walking. They fell into step, walking side by side, Helen’s heels clicking along the footpath as they did.