by Kiki Archer
Camila channelled co-presenter micro-nod harder than she’d channelled it before. She didn’t want to burst into a Cheshire cat grin, but she had to accept the compliment. She half-smiled at the camera but Harriet wasn’t stopping.
“You’ve made me remember what life’s all about. You’ve made me happy.” Harriet reached out for Camila’s hand and lifted it into the air. “Yes, this lady here is making me very happy, and I never usually open up about my personal life but I’m not sure I can keep this one in; in fact I don’t want to keep it in. Not only is Camila my lead inventor, she’s my soulmate and I’ve fallen head over heels in wild, passionate love with her.” She turned to Camila. “I love you, Camila, and I want the whole world to know.”
Camila swallowed hard before exhibiting a co-presenter expression she didn’t realise had been in her repertoire.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Camila remained frozen with the same shocked, perplexed, half angry and half enamoured look on her face as the camera was finally lowered.
“We’ll go and do some filming at the pods,” announced Lydia.
Camila stayed silent.
“Well say something then,” whispered Harriet as the film crew moved away. “And she’ll want a response from you. I’ve never known her let something lie so easily. She’s clearly aware of the tension.”
Camila dropped her gaze to her mug of coffee. There was a small ripple on the surface of the brown liquid, minor in comparison to the tsunami of emotion welling up inside her right now.
“I just wanted to say it properly.” Harriet found Camila’s hand once more. “I wanted to make a grand gesture. And I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking it’s about the ratings and the dramatics, but it’s not.” Harriet paused before continuing. “I know I said she’ll want a response, but I want a response too; that’s the most important thing.”
Camila was aware of the fingers wrapped around her own, just as she was aware of the hubbub in the office, but she wasn’t entirely aware of herself or her feelings. Was this really happening? Had Harriet Imogen Pearson, famous entrepreneur, honestly just declared her love in front of the nation? Camila gasped, snapped out of the daze like a patient resuscitated from CPR. “It’s okay! It’s not live!”
Harriet frowned. “It’s not, but this segment will most likely go out on the Saturday show.”
“It can’t!”
Harriet released the fingers. “You don’t feel the same?”
“I feel… I feel…” Camila was glancing around at the busy network of people who were completely oblivious to her panic.
“You feel what?”
She turned her attention to Harriet. “I feel totally and utterly ambushed.”
“But I love you. I’m in love with you.”
“And?”
“What do you mean and?”
“And why are you telling me this now?”
“I told you yesterday.”
“In the heat of the moment.”
“Exactly and I wanted you to know I wasn’t joking.”
“Why would you be joking? This isn’t funny, Harriet. None of this is funny. This can’t go out live.”
“It’s not going out live. It’s going out on Saturday before the live final on Sunday.”
“Exactly!”
“What? It’s not live.”
Camila shook her head. “I’m not one of your possessions that you can just wave in front of the cameras.”
“I never wave my possessions in front of the cameras.”
“Well I’m not a trophy.”
“Why would you think you’re a trophy?”
“Because you’re lifting me up and shouting about me in front of everyone.”
“You deserve to be shouted about.”
“I’m not ready to be shouted about.”
“You’re not?”
“No! My boys don’t know. Their dad doesn’t know. My family don’t know.”
Harriet was smiling. “So there is something to know?”
“Is this a game to you?”
“Of course not. I just don’t understand why you’re so angry?”
Camila laughed in shock. “You’re one of the smartest women I’ve met. You know full well why I’m angry.”
“Okay, so it puts you on the spot.”
“And why would you want to put me on the spot?”
“Because I want you.”
“You have me!”
“Do I?”
“Well you did until that little stunt.” Camila didn’t want the smile to form on her lips, but there it was curling at the corners of her mouth all the same. “And that really was quite the stunt.”
“I’ll tell Lydia to cut it.” Harriet paused. “If you want it cut, that is?”
Camila smiled again, her eyes widening. “You’re telling the world that you love me?”
“They can cut it.”
“Wait.”
“What?” said Harriet.
“I can’t help it if you love me.”
“You can’t.”
“And who am I to stop you shouting about it?”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Right then, well: I LOVE YOU!” yelled Harriet to the office, causing a momentary raised head from one or two people before the hubbub continued, seemingly unaffected.
“Harriet!”
“What?”
“You’re behaving like a child.”
“You make me feel like a child. A sixteen-plus child obviously, but a frivolous, carefree child all the same.”
“But I can’t be frivolous or carefree as I have actual children to look after and an actual family to think of.”
“You’re in love. What’s the big deal?”
Camila paused. She hadn’t actually said she was in love and she wasn’t entirely sure she was in love. Yes, she’d loved the past few weeks, yes she’d been acting frivolous and carefree, and, yes, Harriet was indeed very loveable, but did she actually feel that emotion of love? She looked down at her mug of coffee. The surface was motionless.
“You’re not, are you?” Harriet shook her head. “That’s what this is about. It’s too soon for you. Goodness. I’m an idiot.” Pushing the rims of her glasses further up her nose, Harriet nodded. “Right. I really am sorry, Camila. I’ll make sure Lydia doesn’t use that section.”
Camila’s voice was quiet. “It’s just… I think that’s maybe for the best.”
“I understand.” Harriet clapped her hands. “I’ve galloped into this without checking you’re even saddled up. Right. Come on then. Let’s move on.”
“It’s that easy?”
“We have work to do. I’m a big girl, Camila. It’s all good.” Harriet clapped her hands once more. “Right, let’s go and work on our pitch.”
“Wait, what?” Camila frowned, almost as thrown as she had been at the love outburst. “What do you mean our pitch?”
“Sunday night. I want you in front of the panel.”
“On the live show?”
“On the live show.”
“I can’t!”
“You can.”
Camila threw her hands to her mouth. “I’d rather tell you I loved you!”
****
Pulling into her driveway, Camila was surprised to see Julie’s van still parked next door. It was lunchtime and Julie never missed a lunchtime shift. Stepping out of her car, she jumped at the hand that grabbed hold of her arm.
“Have you seen her?” shouted Debbie, her neighbour from two doors down. “She’s said I’m on my final warning. I can’t lose this job. My old man doesn’t need any more stress what with his issues!”
Camila looked at the bedraggled woman.
“Have you heard about Roy’s issues?” continued Debbie, slightly less shouty. “He doesn’t need any more upset. He’s been a bit emotional recently. The docs think it’s a cause of his impotence. You do know about his impotence, don’t you? It’s led to a few problems and, any
way, like I was saying I don’t want to add to these problems by losing my job on the van.”
“Isn’t she answering her door?”
“No, I saw her and her old man Terry leaving in a posh car this morning.”
“Terry’s back?”
“All dressed up they were.”
“Have you tried calling her? Wait, what time was this?” Camila remembered her morning phone call with Julie. She’d said the boys had been fine overnight before offering – for the second day running – to bring butties into the office.
“Dead early it was. I was awake because my old man wanted to give this new suction machine he’d got off the internet a whirl, from China I think it was, all plastic and a bit tacky, but it didn’t work anyway and I was looking out the window so I didn’t have to see how sad his face got every time he popped the machine off and his—”
“Debbie, stop. If Julie’s not at work, then you can’t be at work. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“Really?”
“Really. Go home and spend some time with your husband.”
“Oh no, I can’t bear to look at it anymore, all limp and shrivelled it is, like one of those little grubs the kids put on the end of their fishing lines.”
“Maybe if you didn’t stare at it all the time it might take some pressure off him.”
“You think?”
“I don’t know, Debbie. I’m not great with men either.”
“I know. I saw your Mick with that Jackie from the gym. They weren’t hiding it at all.”
“They don’t have to.” Camila pulled her shoulders back. “In fact, I’ve got someone new too.”
“Julie told me. That rich bitch Hillary. It’s just a phase. We all would if we could. In fact, I might if he doesn’t sort his lolloping knob out.”
“She’s called Harriet and it’s not a phase and I think it’s one thing to say it, but to actually go there with a woman, well.” Camila stopped. She had no clue where she was going with this.
“Well, I would. For her money if I’m honest. Is that why you’re with her? Fair play I say.”
“I’m not with her for her money, Debbie, I’m with her because I love her.” Camila nodded. There, that’s where she’d gone. Admittedly it was only to Debbie from two doors down who no one properly listened to because of her constant droning on. Plus it was more of a test as opposed to an actual declaration of love, a trial in a way, to see how it rolled off her tongue, to see if it sounded right, to see if it felt right.
“My old man says he loves me, but how can he if he just lollops there all limp and—”
“Debbie, I don’t think it’s as simple as that.” She stared at the woman who’d gone straight back to her impotence chat without even a raised eyebrow at the apparent declaration of lesbian love. “Anyway, I need to get on.” Turning towards her front door, Camila wasn’t sure what she saw first. Was it that the door was open? Or that her eldest son was standing in the doorway? Or was it his look of shock? Or maybe she’d noticed the pretty sixth form girl gathering her shoes in the hallway? Or was it the way her son’s lips were moving, echoing the words being spoken behind her? She turned in a daze back to Debbie.
“You deserve some happiness, Camila.”
“She’s right,” said her son again, “you deserve to be happy, Mum.”
Camila tried to focus. “Michael, what’s going on? What are you doing? How long have you been standing there? Why aren’t you at school? Is that why you’re shocked? Why do you look shocked, Michael?”
“My mum’s in love with a woman. But it’s fine.”
“Hi,” whispered Cassie as she tried to scuttle out of the house.
“Wait, what are you doing? Where are you going?” Camila watched the girl move quickly across the pavement. “Debbie, you can go home now,” she said, conscious of the audience.
“I was just saying I’m happy for you, you deserve some happiness.”
“She’s right, Mum,” said Michael again.
“Cassie wait,” snapped Camila. “Debbie, please, thank you, but goodbye now. Michael, can we take this inside?”
“We need to talk, Mum,” said the deep voice.
“I’m not in love with a woman, I was just seeing how it sounded.”
“Not about that.”
“Cassie, can you please come back in?”
The girl spoke up quickly. “Michael, wait, I’ve changed my mind, please don’t say anything.”
“You two, what’s going on? Debbie will you PLEASE just go home.”
“Forget it, Mum,” said Michael, reaching to grab his own shoes before shoving them on and chasing Cassie out onto the street, clumsily kissing Camila on the cheek as he passed her. “Happy for you. Harriet’s nice.”
“Michael, wait!”
“Teenagers,” said Debbie with a sigh.
“What’s going on, Debbie? Do you know anything? Michael, PLEASE?” she shouted as the pair hurried away.
“Julie’s told me bits,” said Debbie, shrugging at the fast-moving teenagers. “I think Cassie’s having some problems. But whatever it is you’re in the clear. Kids’ dramas are always much bigger than ours. He didn’t bat an eyelid.”
Camila paused for a second. “Neither did you, Debbie.” She shook her head. “Julie’s said something to him as well, hasn’t she?”
“People aren’t stupid.”
Camila looked at the woman who’d been fretting over a job on a bacon butty van whilst blaming her husband’s impotence on everything other than a simple medical condition.
“And you don’t have to worry about your Ethan, he’s like you in that way anyway.”
“In what way?”
“Well he’s gay.”
“What? What are you talking about, Debbie?”
“Your Ethan, he won’t be bothered that you’re in love with a woman; it’ll make it easier for him to open up.”
“Open up about what? And I’m not in love with a woman.”
“You said you were.”
“Is he in love with a boy? Ethan? My Ethan?”
“Why are you asking me? I don’t know anything.” Debbie shrugged. “Julie’s the one who’ll know.”
“Bloody Julie. Where the hell is she?”
“That’s why I came round. Don’t you remember? What’s going on with you, Camila? You seem frantic. You have to be careful with that, it can lead to issues like my old man’s.”
Camila turned her back on her neighbour and walked into her house, shutting the door hard before leaning against it, trying her best to compose herself and focus on what was happening. She’d only nipped home for a change of clothes. They were going to spend the afternoon rehearsing for the live show with different focus groups pitching as many questions as possible their way so they’d be prepared for anything on Sunday evening. She’d been told to wear what she’d be wearing on the day so she’d feel comfortable and at ease. Camila shook her head. How could she possibly feel at ease knowing her eldest son was embroiled in some sort of drama with a girl two years older, not to mention that her youngest son had suddenly turned gay. She shook her head. No, he wasn’t interested in boys. He was interested in his technology. But what if the boys were on that technology?
Camila sighed. So what? As long as he was happy. She managed a smile. Michael had said he was happy. Happy for her and Harriet. Happy that she was happy. But was she happy? Right now she had no clue what emotion was coursing through her body. Maybe this was just how it felt when you were living the high-powered, working woman lifestyle? You just had to focus on the here and now and deal with issues as they arose. She nodded. That’s what she’d have to do as she was expected back in the office in half an hour. Harriet had said someone would dress her, but Camila knew the only way she stood any chance of composing herself throughout a live episode would be if she felt comfortable and the new power suit she’d bought with last week’s pay cheque made her feel fantastic.
Pushing herself away from the door, Camila went upst
airs. One day at a time, one issue at a time, focus on the now, and the now was the show. Upping her pace, Camila grabbed hold of the top of the bannister, quickly clearing the final step, not noticing the small square instruction leaflet lodged between the carpet and the skirting board, somehow separated from its pregnancy testing kit.
Chapter Thirty-Five
To say the remainder of the week had been chaotic was a huge understatement for Camila who by ten to eight on Friday evening was collapsed on her lounge sofa, third glass of prosecco in hand. Chaotic, however, was the word she had plumped for.
“But you’re all sorted now?” asked Julie, dressing gown and slippers on, settled in for the evening even though Camila was expecting a house full of people to arrive any minute.
“Well, each entrepreneur’s business plan had to be in by the six p.m. deadline today, but we did it.”
“Let me bloody guess, chaotically?”
“Don’t take the Mickey.”
“I’m not but you’ve used that word in every bloody sentence so far.”
“Because it’s been chaotic! Do you have any idea how much work’s gone into all this?”
“You just file a patent claim. It’s not that hard.”
“The rest of it. It’s like the grand finale of The Apprentice.” Camila paused. “Actually, it’s like the interview section as well where the contestants hand in their business plans to Lord Sugar and get grilled on absolutely everything. That’s how Sunday night’s live final’s going to play out. Obviously tonight’s show and tomorrow night’s show is all the pre-recorded fly-on-the-wall stuff.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to be on bloody TV.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be on tonight. Tonight will be all the stuff from the start where the entrepreneurs are introduced and they explain their new businesses.”
“Isn’t that what the whole show’s about?”
“It’s about what you have to do to get a business off the ground.”
“Is your business off the ground?”
Camila smiled. “It’s flying and I honestly think we’ve got a great chance of winning this.”
