How to Get Ahead in Television

by Sophie Cousens

  ‘Oh it was, it really was…’ I said. ‘I think I watch too much TV, Nat, honestly. In my head it was about to be this big romantic moment, like Carrie and Big or Ross and Rachel, this long-anticipated kiss… But, in reality, I was just a drunk girl throwing herself at this gorgeous older man, who probably really regrets hiring her now. How could I be so deluded?’

  ‘Booze will do that,’ Nat said. ‘Honestly, it sounds like he was super nice about it. Maybe he just didn’t want to take advantage? He probably felt like he should do the right thing, since you were so obviously off your face.’

  ‘Oh god, how am I going to face him? How will I go into work on Monday? Do you think he will tell people?’

  ‘He won’t tell people. It’s not in his interest to tell people. Come on, get up, booze breath. Shopping with me is just the thing to get you over your hangover.’

  Nat’s older sister Veronica – who currently lived in America – was getting married in a few months and Natalie was to be her maid of honour. Veronica had given her a specific list of approved boutiques from which she could choose a dress, several of which Natalie had booked appointments with today.

  In the first two shops I sat in the corner feeling like a rancid badger had died in my mouth and a feral fox was running around in my brain, pawing at the inside of my temple. When the smart proprietress offered me a glass of champagne (apparently they do this in bridal shops), I thought I might actually throw up.

  ‘Well?’ Natalie asked, coming out in a floor-length blue velvet monstrosity.

  ‘No. Looks like something my mum would wear,’ I said. The proprietress bristled.

  ‘This one.’ Natalie held up another lace creation.

  ‘No! Looks like a doily. Ugh.’

  I’m not sure I was being much help.

  On our way to the third shop, Natalie had an idea.

  ‘Trying on dresses on my own is so tedious. In the next shop, why don’t you try on some too, Pen?’

  ‘Why would I want to try on bridesmaid dresses?’ I grimaced.

  ‘Oooh,’ squealed Nat, ‘or even better, ask to try on some of the bridal dresses! This shop we’re going to next does gorgeous bridal dresses as well as bridesmaid ones.’

  ‘Nat, don’t be ridiculous,’ I said.

  ‘Oh come on, it will be fun! I’ll say you’ve just got engaged. I’ve always wanted to try on wedding dresses, haven’t you?’

  By the time we arrived at the shop, Natalie had managed to convince me that this was a good idea. The shop was called Patricia Palmerston-Smythe Bridal and you had to ring a special doorbell to gain entry (I’d never been to a shop where you had to ring a bell to get in before). The floor was swathed in pristine white fur and along each wall hung the most exquisite-looking dresses.

  ‘Hi, I’m Natalie McGurk,’ said Nat. ‘I’ve got an appointment at two o’clock.’

  The snooty-looking shop lady gave us a thin-lipped smile.

  ‘Ms McGurk, yes, your sister has already called ahead with some dress suggestions. I’ve put them aside in the fitting suite.’

  ‘Great! Listen, this is my friend Poppy and, well, she’s just got engaged!’ Nat gushed.

  Oh god. I suddenly started to feel very hot and hungover again. This wasn’t a good idea.

  ‘And I know you wouldn’t usually allow this…’ Nat fluttered her eyelids at the shop lady. ‘But, since we’re here, I just wondered if she might be able to try on a couple of dresses while we’re at it? Just to get some inspiration, you know?’

  The stern shop lady started shaking her head, but Nat wasn’t giving up.

  ‘You see, she’s marrying a very rich, very successful television producer called James Ravenstone. He basically runs TV-land – you might have heard of him? Of course, he wants her to have the absolute best of everything at the wedding. He has a lot of cash to splash.’

  I turned my back on this cringe-inducing performance and started admiring some of the dresses hanging along the wall. I knew I would only make things worse if I tried to get involved.

  ‘Well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try on a few,’ the shop lady conceded. ‘If you don’t mind sharing your fitting suite?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Natalie said.

  As the shop lady turned her back, Natalie turned to me and mouthed ‘amazing!’.

  Before I knew it, I was all trussed up in a full-on ivory silk bridal gown, with lace embroidery around the corset.

  ‘Oh my god.’ Natalie had a tear in her eye. ‘You look soooo amazing! Like, better-than-Kate-Middleton amazing.’

  I looked in the mirror. I had to concede I did look pretty bloody amazing, the way the dress pulled in my waist and the fabric swept out at my hips… well, it was just very flattering. Looking this good was also a surprisingly effective hangover cure. Natalie was right – trying on dresses had been a great plan.

  ‘It does suit you. Your fiancé James would be thrilled,’ the shop lady simpered.

  Natalie rolled her eyes at me behind the woman’s back.

  ‘It’s very flattering, isn’t it?’ I said, looking in the mirror and swishing it up and down a bit.

  ‘Yes, ten-thousand-pound dresses tend to be flattering,’ Nat said.

  ‘Ten thousand pounds!’ I said, shocked that anything in the world could cost ten thousand pounds. I caught the shop lady’s eye and quickly added, ‘… is probably quite reasonable considering the exquisite workmanship.’

  Natalie snapped a picture of me with her phone.

  ‘You can’t take photos of the dresses, I’m afraid,’ the shop lady said firmly.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Natalie, sheepishly hiding the phone behind her back. We were like children who’d been let loose in a dressing-up box – this woman must hate us.

  Just then, my phone started ringing from my bag.

  ‘I’d better get that,’ I said, swishing back behind the curtain where my bag was stowed on an ivory silk armchair. I rummaged through it looking for the phone.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hello.’

  It was JR.

  ‘James?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Butterflies skipped in my stomach and I started pacing the room nervously. Why was he calling me on a Saturday? Maybe I was fired and he was going to tell me not to come in on Monday? Oh god, DO NOT accidentally turn on FaceTime. Imagine if he could see where I was right now.

  ‘I just, um… I just wanted to check you were okay,’ he said, sounding slightly nervous. I’d never heard him sound nervous.

  ‘I am soooo sorry, James, I… Last night was so unprofessional. I am so embarrassed…’

  I looked up to see the shop lady eyeing me suspiciously, so I pulled the curtain of the fitting room back a little further.

  ‘It’s fine, Poppy. As long as you are okay?’ said JR.

  I froze, unable to speak, too aware of being listened to and not at all sure what to say.

  ‘Poppy?’ JR said, after a few moments’ silence.

  ‘Yes,’ I said quietly.

  ‘Are you still there?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you plan on being entirely monosyllabic with me now?’

  ‘No,’ I said, moving my bag and sitting down on the armchair; all this expensive fabric was actually quite heavy to carry around.

  ‘Look, I rang to see if you were alive, which you are, so that’s good.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So I guess I’ll see you Monday…’

  ‘Okay.’

  JR sounded annoyed that I was being so quiet, but what could I do? Nat had just told the shop lady he was my fiancé: I couldn’t have a proper conversation with him now. The fact that he was even calling me had taken me totally by surprise.

  JR rang off and I reached for my bag to put the phone back. The corset restricted my movement and I knocked my bag over, spilling the contents over the floor. I had to get down on my hands and knees to retrieve them, as it was impossible to bend over in this dress. I picked up my wallet, keys, hairbrush a
nd a grotty old Biro with a chewed end. I looked at it and smiled – Rhidian. He chewed on Biros endlessly at work; no pen was safe in his presence.

  With everything safely back in my bag, I stood up and wondered how I was going to get out of this dress. Natalie came back around the curtain, mouthing, ‘Was that JR?’ at me, but then her mouth fell open in horror as she saw me.

  ‘What?’ I said.

  Natalie clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes bulging out of her face in an alarming manner. She silently pointed a finger at the dress.

  I looked down, following her arm, and there, in the middle of the ten-thousand-pound dress, was a distinct blue ink stain.

  I pressed both hands over my mouth to stop myself from yelping, and we both just looked at each other in shock for a good thirty seconds.

  ‘Holy shit!’ Natalie finally whispered. ‘How did you do that?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ I whispered back.

  ‘Is everything okay in there?’ called the shop lady.

  ‘Yes, yes, all fine,’ Natalie said, her voice panic-ridden.

  ‘Get me out of it!’ I hissed, and Nat started scrabbling at the corset ribbons.

  ‘Oh my god, we are so dead,’ Natalie murmured in my ear, but despite the gravity of the situation, she sounded as though she was about to laugh.

  Once I was out of the dress, she carefully folded it up on the chair, hiding the guilty stain from view. She slipped out of the bridesmaid dress she was wearing and draped it over the wedding dress.

  ‘Okay, I’ve got an idea, but you need to start crying,’ she whispered.

  ‘Are you girls ready for the next gowns?’ the shop lady called through the curtain.

  ‘Why do you want me to cry?’ I hissed at Natalie.

  ‘Just do it and follow my lead.’

  We quickly pulled on our clothes and grabbed our bags. I did as Natalie said and tried to look tearful as she pulled back the curtain. The shop lady looked surprised to see us in our own clothes.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ she asked suspiciously.

  ‘No. I’m afraid not,’ Natalie said somberly. ‘That was her fiancé James on the phone. He just called off the wedding. Bastard.’

  I sniffed and tried to look sad. Natalie pinched me on the arm and I tried a sob. I obviously wasn’t giving a good enough performance.

  ‘Oh,’ said the shop lady.

  ‘Of course we have to leave immediately, you understand.’ Natalie shook her head gravely. ‘This is the last place she needs to be.’

  I offered up a dramatic wail, but it sounded more like an asthmatic duck impression. Acting was not my forte.

  ‘Of course. Well, you are still young, dear.’ The lady touched my arm sympathetically. ‘Best not to rush into these things.’

  I let out another duck wail and Natalie shepherded me out of the shop.

  We ran down the street until we were out of breath, Natalie howling with laughter.

  ‘Why are you laughing?’ I cried.

  ‘It was funny.’ Nat looked wild-eyed with adrenaline.

  ‘I ruined a ten-thousand-pound dress, Nat!’

  ‘Which my sister will probably be billed for…’

  ‘No!’ I slapped a hand to my forehead. ‘I’m so sorry, I don’t know how it happened, I had an old Biro in my bag… You really think we should have run away like that?’

  ‘What were we going to do? Do you have ten grand?’ Nat shrugged.

  ‘No.’

  We walked to Green Park Tube, digesting what had just happened. I felt terrible, like a felon on the run, while Natalie appeared to find the whole incident incredibly amusing.

  ‘So JR called you?’ Nat said, chirpily changing the subject.

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He said he just wanted to see if I was okay.’

  ‘You didn’t talk for very long.’

  ‘Well, I couldn’t talk for long, could I, with Miss-Beady-Eyed-Shop-Lady watching me.’

  ‘That was nice of him to call though?’

  ‘What do you think it means?’ I asked.

  ‘It might not mean anything, Poppy; it might just mean he’s a nice guy. Hey, if you do marry him, maybe you can have an ink-splot-themed wedding and recycle that dress. You looked totes amazing in it.’

  STEP 23 – TRY TO KEEP YOUR WORK LIFE AND YOUR HOME LIFE SEPARATE

  I TRAVELLED INTO work early on Monday. I wanted to be there before JR arrived. I’d been fretting about the ruined wedding dress all weekend – imagining every police siren was for me – and I was nervous about seeing JR today. I hadn’t slept well, and a guy on the Tube had shouted at me for no reason; the cumulative effect was that I was in a pretty bad mood.

  Rhidian was back in the post room for the week, and greeted me cheerfully as I came in.

  ‘Hey! Good weekend, Poppy?’

  ‘I guess,’ I said with a sigh.

  ‘Ian seemed nice, by the way. Last week… when we ran into you.’

  ‘Oh, er… yeah.’

  I did not want to get into a conversation about Ian.

  ‘Do you have plans tonight?’ Rhidian asked.

  ‘Um, no.’ I flicked through JR’s pigeonhole to see if there was any post I could take up for him. ‘I had quite a big one on Friday.’

  ‘Oh, how did everything go with JR?’ Rhidian asked.

  ‘Why, what have you heard? Did he say something? Is he here?’ I said, my voice sounding panicked.

  ‘The run-through at the newsroom. Why?’ Rhidian looked at me suspiciously.

  ‘Oh, the run-through, right, yes, it was good, I think,’ I said.

  ‘Jude told me you were really impressing JR, that you’d been working really hard on this pilot.’

  ‘Why don’t you write me up a point on your little chart?’ I said, a touch too sharply.

  ‘Listen, Poppy, I was going to take that down; it’s got a bit out of hand right, with everyone adding to it.’

  ‘What, just as I’m getting something right, you want to take it down? Worried, are you?’ I said, but then kicked myself for being spiky because I would actually have loved him to take the stupid chart down.

  ‘Yeah right!’ Rhidian laughed.

  ‘Oh, so it’s because you’re so confident of getting the job you’re worried the chart is just embarrassing me?’

  ‘Well, it is embarrassing for you. I didn’t think you’d want that wing mirror picture up there, constantly reminding the world what a bad driver you are.’

  ‘I am not a bad driver – I just can’t do motorways!’

  ‘Look, whatever, you don’t need to get angry. If you’re not bothered, I’ll leave it. I just figured it had gone a bit far, that’s all.’

  I went over to the chart and wrote: Did a good job for JR + 1 in my column.

  ‘Fine,’ said Rhidian, tapping a Biro against his teeth. ‘Nice email to the whole company the other night, by the way.’

  ‘Stop chewing all the pens!’ I said, grabbing the Biro from his mouth. ‘It’s disgusting.’

  I stalked out of the post room. Stupid Rhidian, stupid chart, stupid me for not letting him take down the chart.

  Mel was on reception doing her make-up. Stupid Mel. (God, I really needed to get this bad mood under control. What was wrong with me?)

  ‘Hey, Poppy, you going upstairs?’ said Mel.

  ‘Yeah, why?’

  ‘When you see JR, will you tell him Kel called? She couldn’t get through to his mobile.’

  ‘Who’s Kel?’ I asked.

  ‘Kel O’Shaunessy? The presenter?’ Mel said, looking at me as though I should know this. ‘JR’s girlfriend?’

  ‘Oh right. Sure, I’ll tell him.’

  I walked into the lift and, as soon as the doors closed, I jumped up and down in frustration. JR was dating Kel O’Shaunessy? Beautiful ex-model-slash-TV-presenter Kel O’Shaunessy. Of course he was. Why had I assumed he’d have any interest in a silly little girl like me? He was a gorgeous, successful TV produce
r; of course he would have a famous girlfriend. It was the conversation with David and Helen about him liking young blonde runners that had put the idea in my head. Stupid David. Stupid Helen. This was all their fault.

  I realized that the lift hadn’t actually gone anywhere, and the doors opened again at the ground floor. Dominic Green stood in reception staring at me.

  ‘Were you jumping up and down in there?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t jump in the lift, Poppy. You’ll break it.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Oh, Poppy, I need to move you off What Do They Know? at the end of the week.’

  The lift doors closed before I could ask Dominic more about where I’d be going next or why I had to move. Had JR asked for me to be transferred off the show?

  Upstairs, I made a pot of coffee for JR and wrote a Post-it note saying Kel called to put on his desk. Jude arrived in a chatty mood. She’d been to Paris with her boyfriend for the weekend. Stupid Jude. Stupid Jude’s boyfriend. Stupid Paris.

  JR arrived thirty minutes later, by which time I’d managed to perfect my nonchalant ‘Morning! How are you?’ greeting.

  ‘Morning, girls,’ JR said as he strode into the office. He was wearing a checked shirt and dark-blue jeans. His dark-brown hair was tousled and messy. He’d let his stubble grow over the weekend and the whole effect put to mind a sort of sexy city lumberjack. I had hoped my mortification at being rejected by him would translate into me not finding him so attractive, but that didn’t appear to be the case.

  ‘You okay, Penfold?’ JR asked. ‘You look peaky.’

  ‘Someone shouted at her on the Tube,’ said Jude, to whom I’d already relayed the tedium of my morning.

  ‘You want me to beat them up for you?’ JR offered.

  ‘I was walking on the left, and this guy thought I wasn’t walking fast enough, so he was all “stand on the right!” and I was all, “but I’m walking” and he was all “barely!”.’

  Hmm, I’m not sure that anecdote was worth telling the first time, let alone twice.

  Everyone was acting normally, that was the main thing. This was normal morning chitchat. If JR had asked for me to be transferred off the production, he was being very nice about it. In any case, it was probably for the best if my obsessional crush and I were removed from his vicinity.