Chapter 24
Olivia feels strangely confident as she waits for Rose to arrive at the station.
If anything, she’s excited for the twenty-something to hear the new strength in her voice, the about-turn in her character.
She imagines Rose congratulating her for her sudden ballsiness, then feels a stab of disappointment that she is still so caught up in trying to impress her.
She needs to pull herself together and become FRANK, FEARLESS OLIVIA GREENWOOD before Rose arrives.
Today she means business, and she won’t be messed around any more.
‘Who is this woman?’ Olivia says to herself, as she starts to make her way out of M&S, knocking over a display of Percy Pigs in the process.
‘Fuck!’ Olivia begins picking them up, and then, realizing that Rose is finishing her masterpiece and standing up as if to leave, drops them back on the floor.
A small crowd has gathered around Rose and now applauds her.
She stands beside the stool, bowing in a manner that suggests she is used to such public displays of adoration.
Olivia walks towards the young woman, who is wrapped in the sort of brightly coloured oversized scarf favoured by either the very old or the very young but nobody in between, and rearranges her expression as best she can so that she gives the impression of being both FRANK and FEARLESS.
She has a lot of mascara on – Tina would be proud.
‘Rose,’ she nods, seriously, tightening her cardigan protectively around her in a way that she hopes seems hostile.
‘Ah, Olivia.’ Rose turns. ‘I wondered when you might show up.’
‘I’ve been he—’ Olivia remembers that for the purposes of today, she is not the kind of person who arrives early. ‘You’re lucky I showed up at all, frankly.’
‘Sure.’ Rose laughs. ‘Anywaaaaay, I hope you’re going to reimburse me the train fare. This place is bloody miles away from London. But now I’m here, I might as well make the most of it. Let’s at least get to the seaside, shall we?’
‘You don’t get to dictate the terms of today,’ barks Olivia, annoyed because that’s exactly what Rose is already doing – the younger woman now heading towards the station exit, confident that Olivia will follow. They begin the walk down the hill to the beach.
‘Well, this is the most awkward second date I’ve ever been on,’ says Rose, as they weave in and out of the tourists plodding cluelessly down the street. ‘You could have at least bought me a bunch of flowers.’
‘Are you trying to be funny?’
‘No, I’m just making small talk while you decide to give me the information you’ve promised.’
‘That’s a bit rich coming from you, Rose.
’ For the first time, Olivia turns and looks her in the eye.
‘You’ve hardly been forthcoming with your own information, have you?
You said you were working for The Morning and now I’ve discovered that, actually, you’re working against it. Plus, you, you, you drugged me!’
Rose hoots with laughter for several moments as they carry on past empty storefronts and a Wetherspoons already packed with drinkers. ‘As I recall it, you went along quite willingly with the whole evening.’
‘You lured me there under false pretences.’ Olivia sees a free bench on the seafront, scurries towards it before some gormless tourist eating fish and chips can grab it.
‘And had the gall to lecture me about being dishonest! You and STP are all about truth, and honest journalism, but it turns out you have all the morals of a hack from the News of the World circa 1996.’
‘It’s not the same,’ spits Rose, sitting down next to her. ‘We’re doing it for the greater good.’
‘How have you got any clue what the greater good is? You’re a child. You don’t have a clue about the world.’
‘Oh and you do, as a 44-year-old woman who’s somehow allowed herself to be fobbed off with a bullshit job title that puts you one step closer to redundancy?
’ Rose rolls her eyes. ‘I’d hope by the time I’m your age I won’t still be in a position whereby I’m continuously fucked over by a bunch of wankers with names like Jasper and Freddie. ’
‘I’ll have you know that I’ve never worked with a single person called Jasper or Freddie.’
‘OK, Hugo and Andrew then.’
‘How do you know their names?’ Olivia gasps.
‘Are you for real?’ Rose’s nose scrunches up in incredulity. ‘I know their names because you told me them the other night.’
‘Wait – why are you talking about redundancy?’ Olivia is struggling to keep up with everything.
‘Babes, you know that as soon as you’ve put on that party, they’re going to let you go. I just hope you have a good contract.’
‘You haven’t got a clue about the world I work in, Rose. If that’s even your name. For all I know, you could have found out about Hugo and Andrew from your undercover snooping.’
‘Oh wow, you really don’t remember, do you?’
‘I remember some parts, just not all of it,’ snaps Olivia, as she watches a seagull swoop down and steal the flake off a little girl’s ice cream.
‘Well, here’s what I remember about our night.
I was there at the pub hoping to pick up the odd titbit of intel from a slightly inebriated journalist during a brief, unguarded moment at the bar, and instead, the universe delivered me you, Olivia Greenwood.
The jackpot. And don’t pretend you didn’t get something out of it as well.
I offered you the opportunity to offload about a bunch of arseholes you’ve put up with for far too long, but never actually done anything about, much to the detriment of other women trying to get into journalism, who have to put up with their shit too—’
‘Oh PLEEEEEASE,’ interrupts Olivia. ‘I’m now responsible for every woman in journalism? It’s so easy for people your age to show up on social media with all your ideals and principles but no actual fucking clue as to the realities, and attack women like me for letting the side down.’
‘That’s not exactly the vibe you were giving off before, when you gratefully accepted the opportunity to rant about the tossbags you have to work with, without once questioning anything I said about them.
You properly let rip about Hugo and Andrew, and how I should stay away from them because you’d heard bad things about their wandering hands.
But have you ever reported them to HR? No.
Do you remember telling me you reckoned Nina must be shagging Stephen because he likes them young? ’
Olivia lets out a sort of strangulated moan that seems to originate deep in her soul. ‘I said that?’ She momentarily holds her head in her hands.
‘Yep, that was a dick statement straight out of the misogyny playbook.’
Olivia shakes her head. Who was that person from a fortnight ago?
She feels like that version of herself is a ghost, haunting her from afar.
She does not want to be that woman ever again.
She can’t believe just how much she’s woken up to in such a short space of time.
Or, she can – but she feels equally ashamed and relieved about it.
‘You know, Stop the Press exist to help people like you, Olivia, not to work against you.’
‘I don’t need your help, thank you very much, and even if I did I would prefer not to be tricked into receiving it.’ Olivia stares at some children throwing pebbles into the slate-grey sea.
‘The only person tricking you right now is yourself, Olivia. I get that you were looking out for me as a younger woman in the industry, warning me off all the twats and pointing out potential pitfalls. It was a wonder to meet a person who works at The Morning who seemed to have actual morals, even if only briefly. When you said you had info you needed to give me, I thought you were going to come over and be our mole on the inside. But you’re just another self-serving hack out to protect yourself. How predictable.’
‘Listen, you should know that there are laws against what you did.’ Olivia glares at Rose, who does not return her gaze.
‘If a journalist pretends to be someone they aren’t in order to get a story under false pretences, they’d quite rightly be disciplined and written up by the Independent Press Standards Organisation.
Which exists so that Stop the Press don’t have to.
It would be good if you subjected yourself to the same standards that journalists do. ’
‘What would you know about journalism?’ Rose finally looks at Olivia.
‘Don’t be so impertinent!’ blasts Olivia. Christ, she sounds exactly like her mother. ‘What is it exactly you’re trying to achieve? You’re messing with people’s careers.’
‘Do you understand how terrible the people you work for are?’ Rose straightens her back in a sort of fury. ‘Do you know that your editor is the reason I don’t have a mum any more?’
‘What?’
‘Stephen. He’s the reason my mum’s dead.’
Olivia turns her body around fully so she is facing Rose. Suddenly, the intensity of her expression doesn’t look like rage. It looks like pain. ‘I, I don’t understand, Rose,’ she says, softly. ‘How can he—’