Chapter 6
Olivia Greenwood is in a galaxy far, far away.
She has a pint of Kronenbourg in one hand and a packet of Marlboro Golds in the other.
She can’t quite explain how she went from meaning to have a couple of drinks at the pub near the office to necking her fourth pint while chain-smoking in the garden of this dive bar somewhere in east London, but here she is, feeling young again, putting the world to rights with her new friend Rose.
‘It’s like I’m Doctor Who,’ laughs Olivia, lighting her seventh cigarette in twenty minutes. ‘Do Gen Z watch Doctor Who? God, you’re probably too young to know what I’m even talking about.’
‘Don’t confuse being young with being stupid,’ bites Rose with a confidence of contempt Olivia finds equally terrifying and admirable.
Olivia has really let rip this evening, away from the Red Lion.
She feels that in this new environment, with this new young companion, she is safe to say what she really thinks.
She gets the impression that saying what she really thinks is going to endear her to Rose, if ‘endear’ is even a word that might apply to this forthright young woman who has just walked into her life, seemingly out of nowhere.
And so it is that in the last hour or so, Olivia has told Rose everything.
About how upset she is with Nina, how disappointed she is not to have been made a columnist, how hard she has worked to please Stephen, how much the family finances depend on her, how worried she is about Saskia’s obsession with keto bagels and Jack’s obsession with strange-looking football players.
How annoyed she is that she has ended up having to house her alcoholic father, and that her mother mollycoddles her sister while being constantly disgruntled with her.
She imagines that with each fresh revelation, with each confidence, Rose will like her a little bit more.
She will see Olivia’s openness as a kind of gift, an intimacy that she doesn’t extend to just anybody.
Instead, Rose listens with about the same amount of interest Saskia showed her mother when she tried to talk to her about the birds and the bees.
Olivia is worried that her new colleague is bored, or even worse, that she thinks her self-obsessed. She changes tack. ‘Enough about me,’ she says, brightening. ‘So how long have you wanted to work in journalism?’
‘Oh fuck that, I don’t want to work in journalism, Olivia,’ sniggers Rose.
‘Nobody wants to work in journalism any more, because journalism barely exists. Look at The Morning. Stephen thinks he’s the editor but really he’s just turning the computers on.
It’s an algorithm that’s in charge. It’s data.
All he does is look at the data, see what everybody is clicking on, and asks for more of it.
A monkey could do his job. You could do his job, if you didn’t have such a tragically low opinion of yourself. ’
All Olivia hears is the sweet sound of Rose not thinking she’s up herself.
‘It’s the most fascinating thing, Olivia, seeing how your generation does things. You’re just that little bit too old to be considered a Millennial, but too young to be a member of Generation X. You’re part of Generation Neither-Here-Nor-There, and it shows.’
Olivia tries to raise her eyebrows in indignation, battles against the botox, gives up.
‘I mean, you’re what, only twenty years older than me?
’ continues Rose. ‘That’s not a vast amount of time.
It’s nothing in the grand scheme of things.
It’s barely the blink of an eye in evolutionary terms. And yet.
’ Rose laughs to herself. ‘Look at you all. You’ve spent your whole lives being told you could have it all, and yet now you’re discovering that you don’t actually want any of it, because guess what, “having it all” was simply a steaming pile of shit that the patriarchy managed to wrap up and pass off as some sort of gift.
And despite the stench, you fell for it. You all fucking fell for it.’
Olivia shifts uncomfortably on the garden bench she is perched on.
She should make a counterargument, but she can’t find one.
Because the truth is, this woman she didn’t know a couple of hours ago has hit the nail on the head.
She’s managed, somehow, to encapsulate the exact reason for the crushing disappointment that Olivia is currently trying to drink and smoke away into oblivion.
How has she done this? How does she know Olivia better than Olivia knows herself?
‘And now you’re aware of the steaming pile of shit you’ve been handed, and the worst thing of all is that despite seeing the flies coming off it, and the disease in it, you’re too terrified to hand it back!
To say: “No thanks, this doesn’t work for me at present.
It stopped working for me a long time ago.
Actually, it never worked for me, and I can’t believe that it’s taken me this long to work out that the sandwich you’ve been making me eat is actually filled with SHIT.
”’ Rose raises her voice, unconcerned about the people around them.
‘Instead, you’re playing with the shit and seeing how you can make the best of it, because you don’t want to offend the blokes that handed it to you.
Blokes like that wanker Stephen. You’re actually smearing yourself in the shit, because you’d rather do that than upset that arsehole.
“Here’s a shit job, Olivia, that’s massively below your pay grade and your abilities and one I absolutely know you won’t like.
”’ Rose mimics a cockney wide boy. ‘And instead of standing up for yourself, you’ve just accepted it, without even checking the finer details.
Without even asking for a pay rise, or if you’re going to have anyone to help you. ’
‘I did ask if I’m getting a pay rise, actually.’
‘And are you?’
‘No.’
Rose takes a cigarette from the packet she made Olivia buy.
‘Christ. Look, babes, I can see from your face that you’re in shock that I’m actually spitting facts at you, but you need to know that I’m coming from a good place here.
You’re clearly a decent person who doesn’t mean anyone any harm, so believe me when I say: YOU DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS!
’ Rose points her cigarette directly in Olivia’s face.
‘From the moment I walked into the Red Lion this evening, you’ve done everything I’ve asked of you without once questioning it.
’ She lights the cigarette, drains her drink, and then takes a sip from Olivia’s pint.
‘Look at you. You’re a 44-year-old woman with a mortgage and a family and a first from Cambridge and yet here you are, hanging out on a Friday night with someone you’ve never even met before and confiding all sorts of secrets in me that you really should have kept to yourself, by the way.
You could have done with going home and grounding yourself with some bath salts or Bougie overpriced candles or whatever it is you middle-aged people do, and yet as soon as I say, “Come and smoke with me, Olivia, come and drink with me, Olivia,” you jump to attention like a bullied dog eager to please.
They’ve ground you down to such a level that even a stranger can get you to abandon your needs for theirs. ’
Olivia nods along, dumbstruck.
‘You’re all “yes, Rose, three bags full, Rose”.’ Rose now switches to mimicking a posh girl. ‘You followed me out the door of the Red Lion like a toddler following a man with some lollipops into the back of a van.’
Olivia gasps. ‘That’s a bit dark.’
Rose sighs. ‘Life is dark, Olivia, life is dark. It’s darkness, it’s light, it’s a million shades in between, and yet all you’re interested in is the view from the sunny uplands.
You’re so desperate to make everybody else happy that you’ve forgotten what makes you happy.
You’ve not just forgotten it, you’ve abandoned it, on a bonfire full of all your other hopes and dreams. A bonfire you’re too scared to light in case the neighbours report you to the council. ’
She takes another pointed sip of Olivia’s pint. Of course, Olivia does not stop her. Rose shakes her head with disappointment.
‘And let’s talk about this bullshit job you’ve so gratefully received today, and your seething resentment about Nina taking your dream gig, as if she has some personal vendetta against you.
Why do you think it has anything to do with you, Olivia?
Why is it so difficult for you to comprehend that maybe, just maybe, Nina was making decisions based on her own wellbeing, as opposed to yours?
That it has absolutely fuck all to do with you?
Nina doesn’t wake up thinking about you, because Nina is too busy looking after herself.
And good for Nina, I say. I’d even suggest you be more Nina, but then you might take that literally and set about furiously channelling her so that you become more likeable and successful, while completely forgetting who you are in the first place.
And as of today, it turns out that you are not a viable replacement for Selina Martin. ’
‘But Stephen told m—’
‘Stephen is not a trustworthy man,’ snaps Rose, closing over Olivia’s voice with frightening ease.
‘Stephen will say anything if it helps him get what he wants. Whereas you will say anything if it helps someone else get what they want. You’re not so dissimilar in that respect, in that you’re disingenuous, just for totally different reasons. ’
Rose downs the rest of Olivia’s drink, stands up, motions for Olivia to do the same, and then marches to the bar. Olivia follows, half-stunned, half-grateful to be able to get more alcohol to numb herself with.
‘I’ll have two more pints of Kronenbourg,’ says Rose, ‘and my friend here will pay.’ Olivia watches in stunned silence as the barman pulls their drinks, and then wordlessly hands him her card.