Chapter One #2
‘What kind of thing?’ asked Sasha.
‘Just a thing. Um, the usual, you know. Volunteering.’
Lucy gave Derek a smile that she hoped communicated her utmost admiration and respect. Derek was an absolute saint who spent most of his free time volunteering at a Bristol drop-in centre for troubled teenagers. And unlike Steve, he only ever talked about it if asked directly.
‘Fine, no problem,’ said Sasha. ‘No Derek, but the rest of you are welcome to share your opinions on who should go.’
Lucy said nothing and waited, knowing that there was no chance on earth she wasn’t going to be on this list. She’d written every word of the winning campaign across every platform, so obviously somebody was going to put her name forward.
The question was, how did she make sure Jonno went too?
If she wasn’t going to be remembering Leo in the usual way, she needed Jonno there for emotional support.
‘I’ll start,’ said Jonno. ‘Lucy should be on the list. Without her, none of this would have happened.’
‘Other copywriters do exist,’ muttered Rachel.
‘Yes, but this campaign was written by Lucy,’ said Jonno, giving Rachel a withering look. ‘Can any of you really imagine a scenario where she’d be left behind?’
Everyone shook their heads, apart from Rachel, who hated it when other people were given nice things, or experienced feelings of happiness.
‘Right, that’s Lucy,’ said Sasha. ‘Assuming you do actually want to go?’
‘Yeah, course,’ shrugged Lucy, nudging painful thoughts of Leo aside in favour of a winter-wonderland fantasy involving accidentally falling over in the snow and being rescued by a hot ski instructor with very warm hands.
‘Good, one down. Anyone want to recommend anyone else, before you all start pitching for yourselves and this turns into The Hunger Games?’ Lucy kept quiet, mentally crossing her fingers that someone would say Jonno’s name. It couldn’t be her; everyone knew they were best mates.
‘Jonno,’ said Steve, who had missed out himself but clearly wasn’t going to sacrifice the whole Creative team. ‘He did most of the design work, and the client loves him.’
‘Agreed,’ said Sasha. ‘Anyone object to Jonno?’
‘Not an objection, per se,’ said Kim, clearing her throat. Jonno had recently turned her down for promotion, and apparently she was about to get her revenge. ‘I’m just wondering if it’s appropriate for directors to go?’
‘On what basis would that not be appropriate?’ asked Sasha, raising her eyebrows and giving Kim a look that would melt an ice cap from outer space.
‘Well,’ said Kim, looking mildly panicked. ‘It’s just, you know, you guys already get to do a lot of cool stuff that we don’t.’
Sasha’s eyebrows were now glued to the light fittings. ‘Such as?’
‘I don’t know,’ muttered Kim, casting around the room for help. ‘Like, awards dinners and events and fancy hotels abroad.’
‘Fancy hotels abroad?’ asked Sasha, blinking furiously.
‘Yeah, like when you and Jonno went to Cannes.’
Sasha laughed. ‘For the Lions festival. It’s the biggest creative event in our industry, and it was all work. Where would you have preferred we stay? In a hostel? A caravan?’
Kim hung her head. ‘No, obviously.’ Lucy smiled to herself, remembering all the stories Jonno had told her about debauched nights out and passing out on a sunlounger at 5 a.m. Whatever Cannes was, it definitely wasn’t work.
‘Jonno obviously deserves to be on this trip,’ continued Sasha. ‘He and Lucy devised this whole campaign, based on MY strategy.’ She glared at Kim, waiting for her to object.
‘Well, you should definitely be going,’ said Fran, Titan’s Account Director and the cheerleader for anyone who had influence over her bonus. Jonno glanced at Lucy and pulled a face, as if he’d just tasted Fran’s arse-kissing and the flavour wasn’t to his liking.
‘Thank you, Fran, you’re absolutely right,’ said Sasha triumphantly. Fran beamed, entirely oblivious to the laser glares being fired her way as one more place was claimed by management. ‘So that’s me, Jonno and Lucy. Three spaces left. Who are we thinking?’
Lucy glanced in the direction of Nate, who was tucked into the corner of the room like he was trying to blend into the paintwork.
So far he’d said nothing, instead scribbling feverish notes on a sheaf of paper that Lucy recognised as the client brief for Titan’s latest campaign.
He’d been working for Fran on the Titan team for over a year, having moved to Bristol from the Pukka Paws pet food team based in Paris.
Lucy found him surly and uncommunicative, and not just because he was half French.
He wasn’t actively an arsehole, exactly; he just gave off an air of being a bit superior, like team socials were all a bit beneath him.
Jonno called him ‘French Exit’, because he always left the party early without saying goodbye.
She watched him for a moment, entirely lost in the Titan brief like nobody else was in the room. Dark, floppy hair that curled at his neck, long eyelashes and full lips, like a picture she’d once seen of a young Mick Jagger. Cold and impenetrable, but inarguably good-looking.
‘So that’s Maya and Olly,’ said Sasha, as Lucy snapped back into the room and tuned back in to what was happening.
She was happy with both those choices; Maya was Titan’s Senior Art Director and smart and funny, and Olly was invariably the first person in the agency who’d down a bottle of wine and climb onto a table to lip-sync to Beyoncé.
He was Sasha’s PA, but at the time of the winning Titan campaign he’d stepped up to Project Manager, organising people and photo shoots and making sure the whole project stayed on track.
‘One place left,’ said Sasha. ‘Who’s it going to be?’
‘I’d like to put my name back into the ring,’ said Steve. ‘Because—’
‘Denied,’ interrupted Sasha, as Maya and Olly started whispering excitedly. ‘Can we just focus, please? These are hot tickets, and I’m not spending the next month listening to you all whinge on about how it should have been you. State your case, or pipe down.’
‘Oh my GOD, guys,’ exclaimed Fran. ‘I can’t believe none of you have nominated me. Like, really?’
‘Buckle in, kids. Fran’s about to blow,’ muttered Jonno.
‘It’s MY account,’ wailed Fran. ‘I’ve been the Account Director for Titan for THREE YEARS.’
Nobody said anything, as any joy Lucy had been feeling about being on the list farted into the room like a deflating balloon.
‘Right, but doesn’t Nate actually do most of the work?’ asked Rachel smugly. Several people took a sharp intake of breath as Nate looked up, and Fran narrowed her eyes as the temperature in the room dropped by ten degrees.
‘That’s outrageous,’ spat Fran. ‘Yes, of COURSE Nate helped, it’s too big an account just for me. But I’m the Account Director, and they’re my client. I’ve, like, nurtured the relationship.’
‘They hate her,’ whispered Jonno. ‘They call her Funsponge Fran, because she sucks all the joy out of the room.’
Lucy covered her mouth with her hand, her shoulders shaking with laughter.
‘Well,’ said Sasha, her voice slightly strained. ‘Does anyone have an issue with Fran taking the last space?’
Lucy didn’t dare look up, instead focusing intently on her trainers.
‘Fran it is,’ said Sasha bleakly. ‘Along with me, Lucy, Jonno, Maya and Olly. Well done, everyone.’
Lucy smiled gamely, thinking that even though Funsponge Fran was the fly in the ointment, the list could definitely have been worse. And at least she’d been saved from a weekend with Psycho Rachel or Moody Nate.