The Forgotten Girl (32 page)

Last week we'd given the newspapers, TV and radio shows a shorter version of Nancy's interview – and they'd all grabbed the chance to feature her story. As I'd hoped they would. Considering she'd spent most of her life avoiding any sort of attention whatsoever, Nancy was already proving to be a natural at interviews. She looked amazing in photographs, and on camera, and her honest way of telling her story was winning her lots of fans. I wasn't quite as keen about spending so much time being interviewed, but Nancy was adamant that I had to accompany her to every appearance.

‘It's good for Mode,' she said. And I couldn't really argue.

Lizzie was over the moon with the interest we were generating and she was confident it would all turn into massive sales when the magazine hit the shelves, tomorrow. Urgh. I couldn't think about it. It was all so bloody nerve-racking. And we were halfway through our next issue which we had to make sure was just as good – if not better. I wasn't sure I could take the pressure of being Mode's editor… ah, who was I kidding? I was loving every minute.

‘So do you have everything you need?' Emily said.

‘Yes, I think so,' I said. ‘Maybe another coffee?' I added hopefully.

She grinned at me.

‘I'll get you one.'

She turned to go, then turned back straight away.

‘Someone's here,' she hissed, making a face.

‘Who?' I said, peering past her to see who'd come out of the lift.

It was Jen. Walking through the Mode office, keeping close to the wall and staring at her feet as though she hoped no one would see her.

‘Shall I tell her to come into your office?' Emily said.

I thought for a minute, then nodded.

‘I suppose so,' I said.

Emily scurried off, and I sat at my desk trying to do calm breathing. And failing.

‘Hi,' said Jen.

‘Hi.'

I nodded to the chair on the other side of my desk.

‘Shut the door,' I said. ‘We don't want the whole office trying to earwig on our conversation.'

Jen nodded.

She came in and sat down. She looked – I had to admit – pretty amazing. Her hair was the same as it had always been, shoulder-length, bleached blonde, but it looked like it had been cut and coloured by someone who really knew what they were doing. She was just wearing cropped black trousers, and a plain fitted t-shirt, but they both looked expensive and she had a new handbag.

‘Freebies,' she said, seeing me looking. ‘People give you stuff when you're an editor.'

‘What do you want, Jen?' I said, a bit more surly than I intended to be.

Jen paused.

‘I want to say sorry,' she said. ‘I was hurt and upset but I should have told you Grace had approached me about the job. I did it all the wrong way and I'm really sorry.'

‘You took all our ideas and you stole them,' I said. ‘I was really proud of our feminism issue and it sank like a bloody stone because you did one too.'

Jen looked at her feet.

‘I know,' she said. ‘It wasn't deliberate, you know. The bigwigs at Grace were pressurising me to come up with some brilliant ideas, I was terrified I was going to let them down, and I just started blurting stuff out.'

‘That doesn't make it okay,' I said.

‘I know.'

We sat in awkward silence for a few seconds, then she spoke again.

‘I'm not the only person in the wrong, though,' she said.

I winced. She was absolutely right, but I hated apologising. I took a deep breath and wondered where Emily was with my coffee.

‘I treated you really badly,' I admitted. ‘I only thought about Mode and I didn't think about your feelings, or the plans we'd made for The Hive.'

Jen looked at me expectantly.

‘I'm sorry,' I said. ‘I know you wouldn't have gone to Grace the way you did if I hadn't dumped you for Mode.'

She grinned and I let out my breath in relief.

‘I suppose I should thank you, really,' she said. ‘I bloody love it.'

I laughed.

‘Isn't it amazing?' I said. ‘All those years of being told what to do and now we're the ones making decisions.'

‘It's completely terrifying,' Jen said. ‘But it's exactly like I always hoped it would be. Sometimes, if I see someone reading Grace on the tube, or on the bus, I want to go and tap them on the shoulder and tell them it's my magazine.'

‘Have you ever done it?' I asked, amused that she felt the same way I did about Mode.

‘No,' she snorted. ‘But I might one day.'

She looked at me in fake sympathy.

‘It might happen to you, you know,' she said. ‘If you ever see anyone reading Mode that is. How are those sales going?'

‘Oi,' I said. ‘Our sales have not been good, but you wait – I've got a packed promotion schedule tomorrow. I'm even going on Loose Women.'

‘Oh really?' said Jen. ‘Is that a challenge?'

I laughed again.

‘I think it might be,' I said. ‘We're not colleagues any more. We're rivals.'

‘Rivals,' agreed Jen cheerfully. Then she looked at me, serious again.

‘And friends?'

I paused.

‘And friends,' I said.

‘Oh thank god for that,' she said, collapsing back into her chair. ‘I miss you.'

‘I miss you too,' I said.

We grinned at each other for a minute.

‘I did wonder,' I began.

Jen looked interested.

‘Yes?'

‘I did wonder if we could carry on,' I said. ‘With The Hive.'

Jen's grin became wider.

‘Really?' she said. ‘How would we do that? With all the other stuff we've got going on?'

‘No idea,' I said. ‘But I reckon it's worth a try. Are you in?'

‘Hell yes,' said Jen. ‘On one condition.'

I raised my eyebrows, questioning.

‘You tell me what's going on with Damo.'

Chapter 53

Nothing was going on with Damo. Nothing at all. In fact, since we'd spent the night together, he'd barely spoken to me.

He spoke up in meetings, came up with some great ideas, spent hours over layouts and got the whole design team really excited about how they were going to make Mode look beautiful. I heard his voice and his laughter drifting into my office when I was at my desk and away from him, but when I was around, he sat hunched over his keyboard, headphones on, gaze fixed on his screen.

I was devastated. Romance aside, I'd got used to chatting through things with Damo, to heading out for a drink with him after a tough day, or just enjoying some easy banter with him in the office. Now all that had gone and I missed it desperately.

‘I'm not sure I can save this one,' I told Nancy on the phone. ‘He's so angry with me, and there's nothing I can say to make it better.'

‘Then you have to show him,' she said. ‘You may be a writer, but sometimes words aren't enough. Old-fashioned romance, remember?'

I mulled over her words for a couple of days, pondering some big gestures to show Damo how I felt.

Should I hire a boat to trail a flag along the Thames, proclaiming how sorry I was? Or project love messages on to the Houses of Parliament? Should I take out an ad in Mode? That was one I did genuinely consider, actually. But I soon dismissed it – I wasn't convinced anyone ever read our classified section, let alone the people who worked on the mag.

I was at a loss. I said as much to Jen, now.

‘Nancy said I had to use good old-fashioned romance,' I said gloomily. ‘But I've been racking my brains and I can't think of anything.'

‘There are agencies,' Jen said. ‘Romance agencies. They plan proposals and stuff.'

I was horrified.

‘I don't want to plan a proposal,' I said. ‘And if I did, I wouldn't want someone else to do it for me.'

Jen made a face.

‘Just an idea,' she said. ‘What about personalised cupcakes?'

‘Naff.'

‘An ad at Piccadilly Circus? Something on the side of a bus? Or on the escalators at Oxford Circus tube?'

I rolled my eyes.

‘I don't have a million pounds to spare,' I said. ‘Just no, no, no.'

We sat together, heads in hands, for a few minutes.

‘Madison said I call and he comes running,' I said, thinking aloud.

‘Who's Madison?'

‘Damo's flatmate. She's like an Aussie goddess,' I said. ‘She told me all about what he thought of Fearne, before I told her I was Fearne.'

‘Ouch,' said Jen with a grin.

‘Yeah, it wasn't nice to hear,' I admitted. ‘She was pretty annoyed with me.'

‘So she said you call and he runs?' Jen said.

I nodded.

‘So I'm thinking, what about if I run when he calls?'

‘What, like a marathon?' Jen looked confused and I laughed.

‘No,' I said. ‘Just to show that work isn't always my priority.'

‘Riiight.'

‘Nancy said words aren't enough and I thought she meant for me to do something big. But what if it's actually something small I need to do?'

‘Like a date?' Jen said.

‘Exactly.'

I paused.

‘If I can get him to talk to me.'

Jen smiled.

‘I'll send him in on my way out,' she said, picking up her bag. ‘I'll tell him you've got some enormous layout emergency and you need his help.'

She leaned over my desk and gave me a hug.

‘Masses of luck for tomorrow,' she said. ‘It's going to be brilliant. But not too brilliant I hope.'

She winked at me.

‘And good luck with Damo. I want a full report.'

Blowing a kiss over her shoulder, she headed out of my office.

I sat, drumming my fingers on the desk until Damo appeared in the doorway.

‘Problem?' he said.

‘Hmm,' I said, non-committal. ‘Come in and shut the door.'

Damo looked slightly alarmed but he did as I asked.

‘Sit down,' I said.

Obediently, he did as I said.

We looked at each other for a few seconds, until he said, ‘So?'

‘So,' I repeated. ‘There is no problem. At least not with a layout.'

‘Okay,' said Damo. ‘So why am I here? I've got a lot to be getting on with.'

He fixed me with a stern glare.

‘My contract's up in a couple of weeks,' he said. ‘I should be doing a handover, but you've not recruited a replacement.'

‘No,' I said. ‘I've not. Because I was sort of hoping you'd stay.'

‘Fearne,' he said. ‘That's really not a good idea.'

I screwed my nose up.

‘I know it doesn't seem like a good idea,' I said. ‘But I want us to put all our problems behind us.'

Damo said nothing but I could see from his face that he thought that was unlikely at best.

‘Okay,' I said. ‘Here's the thing.'

I paused.

‘The thing is…'

Damo sighed, but it wasn't an exasperated sigh. It was more amused. Encouraged, I carried on.

‘The thing is,' I said. ‘I've been a bloody idiot.'

‘Got that right,' Damo muttered.

‘I was a bloody idiot in Sydney when I let you walk away from me,' I said, gabbling in my efforts to get the words out. ‘And I was an idiot when I told you work was more important than you are.'

Damo made a face.

‘You and me,' I continued. ‘We're special. We just fit. You make me laugh, and you understand me more than anyone else I've ever met.'

Damo smiled.

‘And it's not just one way,' I said. ‘Who else do you know who'll listen to you talking about Iron Maiden album covers?'

Damo shrugged, as if to say I had a point, but he still didn't speak.

‘What I'm trying to say is – I'm sorry,' I said. ‘You're more important to me than any job.'

‘You're saying all this, Fearne,' Damo said eventually. He scratched at a spot on the knee of his jeans. ‘But I don't believe you.'

‘Then let me prove it,' I said, urgently. ‘Let's go out. On a date. Me and you.'

‘A date?' said Damo. He gave me a small smile. ‘What kind of date?'

‘Oh I don't know,' I said. ‘Drinks? Dinner, maybe, if it goes well?'

Damo nodded slowly.

‘Okay,' he said. ‘A date. Let's go on a date. When?'

I grinned.

‘How about now?'

He looked astonished.

‘Now?' he said. ‘Now?'

‘Why not?'

‘Well, it's the middle of the day, for a start,' he said. ‘And we've got work to do.'

‘Meh,' I said.

He raised his eyebrow at me.

‘And the new issues are due in this afternoon. Are you telling me you won't mind not being here when the relaunched Mode arrives on your desk? The issue we've sweated blood to get just right?'

I made a face.

‘They'll still be here when we get back,' I said. ‘Who cares if I'm here or not?'

I stood up, picked up my jacket and held out my hand.

‘Shall we?'

He smiled at me.

‘We'll be back by the time the issues arrive, right?' he said as we walked towards the door hand in hand and Emily pretended she wasn't watching.

‘Totally,' I said.

Chapter 54

I lay on my sofa with my feet up, listening to Sounds of the Sixties. For years I'd avoided anything to do with the sixties. I turned over if a Stones track came on the radio, and any glimpse of the Beatles made me go cold.

But for the first time, I could remember the happy moments along with the sad. It had been painful reliving everything that had happened, and I was sure some of the interviews Fearne had lined up for me would be difficult. But it was the right thing to do. I couldn't change the past, but I could make sure it didn't limit my future.