by Julie Caplin
‘Avril! You don’t have to do that.’
‘Kate, darling, I’m keen to help you, but this is my career too. Being completely single minded. Viewers want warmth. I can do warm, I’ve avoided it because I thought it looked weak, but do you know what, that’s what the viewers really want. They love nothing more than a celeb showing a bit of vulnerability. It makes great TV.’
‘And how does your husband feel about this?’
‘He gets me. He understands this is what makes me tick. Don’t forget he’s a very successful business man. He loves me but he also recognises what it takes to make it … and,’ I could hear the gratitude ringing in her voice, ‘he’s happy to support that.’
‘Wow, that is … I’m not quite sure what to say.’
‘You don’t have to say anything. This is going to put me on the map.’
‘That’s fantastic.’
‘Yup and for Sophie too. I have to give some of the credit, only a tad mind, to her.’
‘I heard she came and cooked with you.’
‘Yeah. She’s a doll. Bribing the whole production team with Danish pastries this morning, certainly helped. And they thought having breakfast at Hjem every day-’
‘Every day?’
‘For a week, darling. A whole week.’
‘What? You’re going to broadcast from Hjem, every day for a whole week?’
‘Yes!’
‘A whole week?’ My voice squeaked with incredulity. She couldn’t be serious.
‘Kate, I’m going to strangle you in a minute. Please don’t tell me it’s going to be a problem because getting an OB unit for less than a week is going to screw with my producer’s budget.’
‘No problem. Absolutely not a problem. In any way, shape or form. Definitely not.’ I threw a quick glance around the room expecting people to be staring, this was monumental, huge, incredible, but everyone was oblivious.
‘That’s amazing. You’re amazing. I can’t believe it. You’re amazing.’
‘Yes, I am,’ said Avril, laughing down the phone at me.
‘I … don’t know what to say. How did you swing it?’
‘I came back with so many ideas. I pitched them all. And all things Danish and hygge are very in. My boss said he’d never seen me so enthusiastic. He thinks the viewers are going to love it. Actually, he … er … said that I seemed a lot … more in tune with viewers. Of course, I’ve no idea what he meant, but I’ll take it.’
We both knew she knew exactly what he meant. Something had softened in her last week, maybe appreciating what she had at home, had made her realise that winning the battles at work wasn’t as important as she’d always thought.
I looked around the busy office. Nope, still no one had any idea of what had just occurred or the massive coup I’d landed. Maybe I ought to take a leaf out of her book.
My report was all ready and with my pile of papers I knocked on Megan’s door. Her office was empty.
‘Do you know where Megan is?’ I asked one of the girls who sat nearest her office.
‘She’s in a meeting.’
‘Oh, we’ve got a meeting at ten.’
‘No, she’s in a meeting from nine. With the Danish guy.’
‘Lars Wilder?’
‘Yeah, that’s the one.’
‘Nine?’
‘Yes,’ there was an impatient sibilant hiss to her response.
I headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time. I couldn’t muck about waiting for the lift. Yesterday’s conversation. It clicked now. That’s what you got for not paying attention. Daydreaming. You can join us at ten.
Breathless and fuming I burst into the room to find Lars sitting around the board room table with Megan and Josh.
‘Ah, Kate,’ said Josh. ‘Take a seat, we’re just finishing up with our launch proposals.’
I shot Megan a furious glare.
‘Kate,’ Lars rose to his feet and came around the table to greet me, taking both of my hands and shaking them before planting a kiss on my cheek with a big wink that no one else could see.
‘Lars.’
‘How was your flight back?’
‘Good thanks.’
‘Although, I’m very glad you were unable to get on the flight. My mother may have lain on a cold floor for several hours before anyone found her.’ He turned to Josh. ‘I owe Kate a debt of gratitude. She saved my mother.’
He was a terrible old ham and suddenly his English had taken a distinct turn for the worse. Helped would have worked just as well as saved.
Josh shifted in his seat and gave me and Megan the sort of look that said, why didn’t I know about this. Megan jumped in quickly and said, ‘She’s a real credit to the company. A huge asset.’
‘I can see that,’ said Lars deadpan. ‘And I’m sure you value her as one of your most important employees.’
‘Of course.’ Megan nodded.
‘In Denmark, we believe in working together. So, this is good to see.’
‘Now that Kate is here, perhaps we can get back to the guerrilla campaign,’ said Megan with a conciliatory smile.
Guerrilla campaign? News to me.
‘So, Lars, as we were saying,’ interjected Josh. ‘The plan would be, as part of a teaser campaign, in the run up to the official opening, to balloon bomb the capital.’
‘Balloon bomb?’ Lars’ gaze moved around the table before coming to rest on me with a completely perplexed expression. I stared back wide eyed and clueless.
Josh interjected smoothly, taking over. ‘This would be an extremely sophisticated operation. We have successfully undertaken these types of guerrilla marketing events to great acclaim, picking up several awards. In this instance, we plan to have ten thousand balloons printed with the Danish flag. They would be dispersed in targeted locations around the capital by our dedicated guerrilla teams in a fleet of Hjem branded four by fours … we could do a cross promotion with our car client, to create a bit of theatre and a lot of stir. We’d bomb St Pancras, Kings Cross, Euston, Paddington, Waterloo … all the key commuter entry points, as well as Trafalgar Square, Oxford Circus, Covent Garden … all those sort of places. So that people start to ask, what’s the significance of the balloons? Why the Danish flag?’
‘Bomb?’ asked Lars, suddenly losing his excellent command of English.
‘Not bomb, bomb,’ said Josh smiling winsomely. ‘It’s a term. Like photo bombing.’
Lars continued to frown.
‘These balloons. I don’t think that this is very friendly to the environment.’
‘They’d be biodegradable of course,’ butted in Josh. ‘It would grab lots of attention.’
‘But what does the Danish flag say about Hjem? The vision is about showing people a taste of hygge. This doesn’t sound very hyggelich.’
Megan who could see they were losing his interest, frowned saying, ‘Kate, I believe you have some news. Some post press trip updates. Perhaps you could tell Lars what coverage we’re expecting.’
With a deep breath, I launched in. ‘The response from all six members of the trip has been fantastic. They thoroughly enjoyed the trip and all of them have promised features, articles and follow ups.’ I caught a glimpse of Josh’s face, one of those, yeah-yeah-where’s-the-evidence types of sceptical sneers.
‘Great coverage, Kate,’ said Megan. ‘I’m sure you can provide Lars with a full report, I’m sorry but unless you’ve got anything else, I’m conscious that time is ticking on and we ought to get back to the teaser campaign to build interest in the opening.’
I could see Josh openly yawning.
‘Excuse me,’ I interrupted, ‘I haven’t finished.’
Lars’ mouth twitched but he leaned back in his chair as if totally unconcerned by the political byplay and undertones going on in the room.
‘In addition, Sophie will also be demonstrating how to make perfect Danish pastries.’
‘I’m sure this could be covered in your report.’
‘Demonstrating how
to make perfect Danish pastries on breakfast television on the day of the opening. Avril has agreed to run a week-long series of broadcasts from Hjem.’
I let the news settle in, taking in Megan’s widening eyes and slow nod of satisfaction as well as Josh’s sick as a dog expression. ‘Avril is sending over an outline schedule for the week.’
I sat back in my chair my hands clasped together on the table.
‘That is excellent.’
‘It’s bloody fantastic,’ said Megan, shooting me a look of admiration. Josh still looked as sick as a dog.
The bar Ben had suggested was a short walk from the office, via Covent Garden and I arrived bang on time, grateful to find he was already there at a table ensconced in a crossword, a half-drunk bottle of Corona in one hand. I stood in the doorway watching him chew his pen as he studied the clues and then absently picking up his beer to take a long swallow. Was it entirely crazy that watching him swallow caused a quick skip of excitement to trip along my pulse? Who knew that throats were sexy or that it brought back the memory of his scent and skin, up close and personal at Tivoli. I sucked in a hasty breath and started across the floor. He looked up and my heart did a little flip at the delighted smile that immediately lit up his face.
Nerves fluttered as I arrived at his table, awkward with the dilemma of how to greet him but he took any decisions away by drawing me into his arms and brushing my lips with a gentle kiss that left them tingling. I think I must have looked a bit dumb or dazed because his face crinkled into a knowing warm smile that left me in even more of a mess.
Oh dear God, I’d fallen, hook, line and sinker for Benedict Johnson. I’d kind of been kidding myself that it was all in my head, in Copenhagen. Not real life. And all those fun, flirty feelings would stay where they belonged back in Denmark but no … this delicious sensation of fancying someone and them clearly fancying you back (and from the look in his eye I was reasonably confident that was the case) was just bloody lovely.
‘Hi, long time no see.’ There it was again that warm, toe curling twinkle in his eyes. ‘Good day at the office?’
‘Not bad.’ I smiled back at him, a parallel unspoken conversation alongside our words. ‘Not bad at all. Avril came up trumps.’
‘Did she?’
‘Oh yes. Did she ever!’
‘Want a drink and then you can tell all? What do you want?’
‘One of those would be lovely,’ I nodded towards the bottle of beer in front of him. He’d chosen well; the bar wasn’t too packed and had a calm vibe to it rather than the usual frenetic after-work London scene.
While he went to the bar, I cheekily swivelled the crossword to face me.
‘You’re not doing very well,’ I teased when he returned.
He shrugged, with a secretive smile. ‘I had other things on my mind.’
Fiddling with a beer mat on the table, I managed to flick it across the floor skimming like a stone under an adjacent table which Ben kindly ignored. I needed to get a grip; the excitement was getting a bit much.
‘So what’s Avril been up to? Did she mend the fences in her marriage?’
‘From what Sophie told me, I’d say the answer to that is a resounding yes and when I spoke to her this morning she was very jolly.’
I told him all about the live broadcast plans.
‘It’s all anyone at work could talk about. Honestly, you’d think I’d single-handedly rescued a clowder of cats, slain multiple headed monsters and made the tea for everyone.’
‘Clowder?’ Ben looked very impressed and shunted closer, leaning his head towards mine. The bar was filling up and the noise levels were rising.
‘Collective noun for cats,’ I said exuding smug. ‘Great crossword word.’
‘It is. I must remember that one. So, basically, aside from having a smartarse command of the English language,’ he said with a teasing lift of his eyebrow making me laugh, ‘you’re heroine of the day.’
‘Yes, for today at least. It’ll all be forgotten tomorrow but hopefully it might stick with my bosses.’
‘Any news on the promotion?’
I bit my lip and laced my fingers together on my lap.
‘It’s looking good … they’re still banging on about press coverage from the trip …’
‘I have good news. I’m in the middle of writing the article. In fact, the architecture was all so fascinating, I’m thinking about doing a second feature focusing on the buildings in the city and the contrasts between old and new. There’s some amazing design and many, like the opera house, are commissioned and built in partnership with individuals and companies.’
‘I loved that canal trip,’ I said thinking of the striking building sitting on the edge of the water and the gorgeous colours of the wharf buildings at Nyhaven. ‘Apart from when Avril hit her head.’
‘It was eventful, I’ll give you that. I bet after the trip, you don’t know what to do with yourself.’
‘Actually, it’s made me see things very differently. I joined Rock Choir,’ I grinned at the memory of the previous evening, ‘by accident and we’ve got a house road-trip to Ikea on Thursday night. A smash and grab raid, we’ve worked out exactly what we want to buy and we’re going to hyggify our flat, me and Connie, my flatmate.’
‘Is that a thing? Hyggify?’
‘It is now. We’ve spent the last year moaning about the state of the place and planning to move, but it’s in a great location. The rent is reasonable and the place is OK. The trip made me realise, we could do so much with it, if we just got our backsides into gear,’ I was gabbling and worse still it was obvious that Ben was amused by it. ‘You get used to things, like mould on the wall, and live with it. We’re on a mission. Tonight, you’ve saved me from painting duty.’
‘Well if that makes me a hero, I’ll take it. He lifted his arms to flex his biceps. ‘Although is that more about a make-over and not so much about hygge?’ Scepticism touched his mouth.
‘Are you in journalist verification mode? Double checking the facts?’ I asked. ‘The whole cosy thing and having nice furniture and accessories around you, lightening your mood, and making you value your time, really struck a chord with me. Made me think about my home in a completely different light.’
‘Having my sister’s children trash my place made me think about it in a completely different light. I’m changing the locks. So, tell me about Rock Choir and how you managed to join by accident. I’m intrigued.’
I laughed, despite being a tiny bit disappointed with his scepticism and his abrupt change of subject.
‘It’s one of those things I’ve always meant to do. I walk past the poster outside the church hall every week. Last night I left work early, so I popped in. To pick up a leaflet.’ I stopped and laughed.
‘What?’
‘The ditzy woman, lovely but scatty assumed I was already in the choir, so she had me moving tables with her and before I knew it, I couldn’t leave without embarrassing her, so I stayed and sang.’
‘Just as well they weren’t doing some weird martial art thing that night.’
‘There’s an idea, I’ve always fancied being a ninja!’
‘Now you’re scaring me. You can be quite fierce already.’
We were back to flirty banter again.
‘I can?’ I raised a challenging eyebrow.
‘Oh, yes,’ he paused for a beat before adding, ‘but in a nice way. Protective. You go to bat for other people. And did you enjoy singing?’
I sighed with pleasure. ‘I loved it. The people were all lovely and I’d forgotten what a buzz you can get from singing, especially with other people.’ I knew I was gabbling again but with his arm casually sprawled along the back of the seat next to him, he seemed quite comfortable, with my sudden spew of information. ‘I haven’t done anything like that for years. When I first moved to London, it was all so overwhelming I didn’t do anything. And it was so nice to be with people of all ages and backgrounds.’
Focusing on work and living
within the narrow confines of that world had heightened that sense of not being quite good enough.
‘That’s what I enjoy about playing football. We’ve got plumbers, a baggage handler, an accountant, a landscape gardener, a film production manager and a podiatrist in our team. It’s grounding when you get stressed at work about some stupid thing. And handy when your sister floods the bathroom.’
‘How is she? Has she left yet?’
‘Yes, thank Christ, although I’m still trying to get my flat back to normal and mend fences with my neighbours. They’re not best chuffed at having bathwater come through their ceiling, although thankfully they’re so relieved that noise levels have returned to pre-toddler occupation standards they might just forgive me.’
I winced. ‘Ouch. That’ll mess up your insurance premiums.’
‘No, it won’t. Her husband, Rick will be paying for the privilege of a domestic strife-free week. I’m thinking of moving and not telling her or my mother.’
‘You don’t mean that,’ I teased.
He pulled a face, ‘It’s tempting. Honestly, I could bash Amy and Rick’s heads together. What about your lot? Spoken to them yet?’
‘No, I’ve been … putting it off. Too busy.’
‘Are you busy this weekend?’ The words snapped out, as if he’d been hanging on to them for a while and now that he’d made the decision to say them, they took immediate flight.
‘Erm … no.’ Suddenly I didn’t care if I looked like a sad loser with no social plans.
‘Would you like to come to dinner, Saturday night? Do you like curry? Indian? There’s a great restaurant near me.’ Now he was gabbling and it was really kind of cute.
Our easy chat suddenly stalled as if we both realised that this was the next step. My breath got stuck in my throat as I looked at him, his face almost too blank, apart from the pulse tripping in his throat.
‘Th-this Saturday?’ Under the table I crossed my legs, hooking my ankle around my leg.
‘Yes. This Saturday.’ He leaned over the table and slid his hand along my forearm which sent little shivers dancing along my skin. ‘Kate, would you like to come to dinner with me?’
All the air whooshed out of my lungs as I said a tiny bit breathily, ‘Y-yes. That would be … lovely.’
