Chapter 19 #2
‘There was,’ she says, her voice firm, her face stony, her mission undeterred.
‘Long before you made me an Anniversary Architect, you put me in charge of the Women Rising project, which suggests that this company has some sort of interest in gender equality. That it takes a stand against sexual discrimination of any sort.’ She lets that hang for a bit, assesses him for any nervous tics, but he has the cool, calm demeanour of a snake.
‘Subsequently, I think it’s important that I raise the way that everyone was talking about that pop star’s body in conference.
We shouldn’t be discussing the pictures at all, frankly, given that they were a clear infringement of her privacy.
’ She sits up straight, steeples her fingers in a manner she believes to be businesslike.
‘Nor should you have spoken to Nina in the way I’m told you did later, especially as she was only following your orders.
’ She sees a redness begin to creep across his face, senses that she might be gaining ground.
‘I thought you would appreciate this feedback and understand that I wouldn’t be doing my job properly if I didn’t bring it up.
I thought it best if I just mentioned it to you, casually in conversation, instead of making it formal with HR. ’
Stephen nods along, looking at the floor.
‘Thanks for that, O-liv-i-a,’ he says, clearly enunciating each syllable.
‘I really appreciate your candid evaluation of everything. I’ll endeavour to do better next time.
’ He smiles with all the sincerity of a politician on polling day.
‘And I’m glad you’re here. I was going to come and find you later today as it happens.
It seems we have a problem.’ He pauses dramatically in an attempt to place the ball firmly back in his court, where he likes it.
Olivia smiles sweetly, tucks a stray hair behind her ear. She refuses to be cowed.
‘Specifically, we have a problem with this group called Stop the Press.’ He gets off his desk, goes to his big leather chair, sits in it and puts his feet on the table.
A real willy-waving move, if ever Olivia saw one.
She maintains a straight face – she’s not going to give him an inch to add to that tiny, flaccid cock of his.
‘They’re some pathetic group of university dropouts who fancy bringing down the nation’s newspapers in protest at …
well, fuck knows what? Being part of a generation of woke wet wipes? ’
‘Sorry, what?’ Olivia is trying to readjust her expectations of this conversation, which have changed rather swiftly.
‘Stop the Press, Olivia. Come on, pay attention. They’re targeting us, looking for ways to mess things up, and I’m not going to let them. I need your help. They’ve been sending communiqués, Olivia,’ he says, seriously.
‘Communiqués?’ repeats Olivia, wondering if Stephen thinks he’s in a 1950s spy novel.
‘Well, messages. They’ve sent emails announcing their intention to scupper our celebrations and “expose our secrets”.
’ Stephen does quote marks with his fingers, then looks away and clears his throat.
‘Obviously, they’re using empty threats and we almost certainly have nothing to worry about, but I just want you to be alert, OK?
If you get even a sniff of these fuckers trying to blow things up, I want you to tell me.
’ He slams his hand down on his desk, removes his feet and sits up straight.
‘Because there is no way I’m letting a bunch of self-righteous twats fuck up The Morning’s big moment. ’
Olivia nods mutely.
‘Listen, I know I can trust you, Olivia. I’ve always been able to and now I’ve seen your true mettle with this People Displeaser feature, I feel like I can depend on you even more.
You have hidden depths I didn’t know about.
There I was thinking you were all sweetness and light and baking cupcakes with your kids in Bromley … ’
‘Haywards Heath, actually, Stephen.’ Olivia gives an unhappy little sarcastic smile.
‘I’ve never even been to Bromley. And I’ve never baked a cupcake, for the record, although I don’t think that baking is necessarily a sign that someone is a weak-willed pushover for doing it with their children.
Baking requires skill and precision, unlike editing a national newspaper.
I wouldn’t fancy your chances in a fight with Mary Berry. ’
‘You see! There it is again, that streak of sass!’
Olivia thinks that all men who use the word ‘sass’ should be sent to some sort of prison for crimes against cringe, the keys thrown away for evermore.
Stephen leans back in his chair, a look of smug self-interest plastered across his features like face cream.
Olivia can see his bright red socks, his hairy calves, and suddenly feels unwell.
She coughs and stares out the glass-box window at Joanna, who is browsing a holiday website while her boss isn’t looking.
‘You’re a wily fucker and I love it. You keep confidences, do you know what I mean?
’ Olivia shifts uncomfortably on the sofa, not liking where this is going.
‘You know what you have to do to get on, and I respect that. You’ve come in here to pull me up on my admittedly shoddy behaviour and show Nina the sisterhood is alive and well, which is big of you because we all know how devastated you are, Olivia, that she got the job you wanted.
’ He sucks air through his teeth, and then expels it in a big, long sigh, as he allows what he has said to fill the atmosphere around them.
‘But I know you’re the right person for this Anniversary Architect gig.
I couldn’t have given the job to anyone else.
And if you make this party a night to remember, then I will reward you for your hard work. ’
‘A night to remember?’ Olivia is just repeating things now, while she tries to work out how to gain lost ground.
‘Yep. A night that goes down in history – not just The Morning history, but media history. I want all the naysayers on social media who wang on about us being “legacy media” to know what a legacy truly is. I want them to see what we’re all about, the power we have.
I want celebrities. Big celebrities. From stage and screen and sport.
I want a lavish location, no expense spared.
I want red carpets, epic entertainment—’
‘Dwarves serving platters of cocaine?’
‘I can no longer tell if you’re being serious or not.’
‘I can no longer tell if you’re being serious or not.’
Stephen spins in his chair, like a toddler enjoying Bring Your Child to Work Day.
This is his sign that the conversation has deviated too far from its intended path.
Despite being the editor of a national newspaper, he isn’t emotionally advanced enough to deal with any exchanges where he isn’t fully in control.
‘Listen, I’ve had a word with the chief exec and the finance officer who agree with me that this is an investment opportunity, a chance to bring in a new audience, a new generation of The Morning readers.’
‘They agree with you,’ nods Olivia, raising her eyebrows. ‘So what does this all mean, Stephen?’
She knows full well that after her opening salvo, he is trying to both butter her up and give her a warning, but she wants to lull him into the belief that she’s still a bit clueless to his Machiavellian ways. She can, after all, use people pleasing to her advantage.
‘It means that you have a massive fucking budget for the party and I want to do it sooner rather than later, to neutralize the threat of Stop the Press once and for all. I was thinking we should be ready to go in about a month, six weeks tops.’
‘OK.’ Olivia takes a deep breath. ‘So not content with completely changing the remit of my work with no warning, you’re now telling me I have to organize a party with six weeks’ notice?’
‘Six weeks tops,’ says Stephen.
‘Six weeks tops,’ repeats Olivia. ‘Well … I’m going to need some help, then.’
‘This is a solo project.’ Stephen wags his finger at Olivia, as if she is being naughty.
He can’t for a minute stand someone else trying to wrestle control from him.
‘I know that you’re more than capable of handling this assignment on your own.
You hardly need help – you’re Olivia fucking Greenwood. ’
‘I am Olivia fucking Greenwood,’ smiles Olivia fucking Greenwood.
‘And I want some people to help me with the boring administrative stuff that a project like this requires. I’m not wasting my time calling up venues and publicists, begging B-list celebrities to come and be part of our celebrations.
That’s way below my pay grade. Which isn’t particularly high, but we can talk about that another time, perhaps as you’re about to release your next gender pay report.
’ Olivia flashes him a rictus grin. ‘But in the meantime, what I really want is some staff.’ If she managed to track Rose down, she could hire her to be her assistant. That would be fun.
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Liv.’
‘Olivia. My name’s Olivia.’
‘Yes, well however you want me to refer to you, it doesn’t change the fact that this is a one-woman project.’
‘Is that right?’ Olivia leans over to pick up a bottle of the executive spring water that sits in the middle of the conference table.
‘A huge budget for the party, but no budget for staff to help me put together the kind of celebration that this organization doesn’t just deserve, but needs, if it’s going to last another century?
The kind of event that will be talked about for months on end, generating buzz and influence and changing the way that The Morning is perceived by a new generation of subscribers, a younger generation.
No budget for staff to create the kind of event that will make you look like a once-in-a-generation newspaper editor, a Harold Evans for the twenty-first century?
’ She pauses for a moment, allowing this to permeate Stephen’s not inconsiderable ego.
‘But budget for your sparkling water?’ Olivia waves the bottle in the air, then puts it back on the table.
‘Not to mention all that champagne you bought in the pub on Friday to celebrate Nina becoming The Morning’s new star columnist.’
‘OK, Olivia, now isn’t the time to air your grievances—’
‘This isn’t a polite request,’ Olivia says, rising and making her way to the door. ‘It’s a demand.’