‘You sure?’
‘I’m her mother, aren’t I?’
Then I thank Maria for all her help, and I send her home. She’s already worked plenty of overtime this week and I’m sure she has her own life to get back to. If I’m going to learn how to do this, I need to be able to do it on my own. Maria looks torn, but then admits she has a micro-needling appointment she’d rather not postpone.
Once she’s gone, Amy wriggles in my arms and looks up at me expectantly.
‘Well, Amy, as my granny used to say, “Life’s a shit sandwich,” so best to get it over with.’
Chapter 16
As I finish changing Amy’s nappy, only gagging twice this time, my phone lights up. The name ‘Coleson Matthews’ flashes on the screen. Coleson? Runner Coleson from When TV? Did we stay in touch? Are we friends? My thumb hovers over ‘decline’ but then I pause, my curiosity piqued.
Answering with a tentative ‘Hello?’ I set Amy down on the floor and watch her toddle off towards Neckie across the living room. She might do revolting things in her nappy, but she does have a cute little waddle – like a drunk penguin, swaying from side to side on slippery ice.
‘Lucy, Lucy, Lucy,’ says Coleson. It’s a knowing ‘Lucy’, but I don’t know what it is he knows.
‘Coleson, Coleson, Coleson.’
‘You know what I’ve been thinking about this morning?’ he asks.
‘What have you been thinking?’
‘How good my name is going to look on the door of your office.’
His tone is gently menacing, so I stay silent, hoping he’ll keep talking and give me more clues about the nature of our relationship. After an awkwardly long pause, he says, ‘Word on the street is that you have a big idea for the pitch off. Or is this all part of your game plan to psych out the competition?’
‘Word on the street?’ I say, wondering how long I can get away with this echoing technique.
‘Well, the shared workspace in the Caffé Ritazza next to London Studios.’ Coleson laughs, a slow chuckle that sounds nothing like the meek, skinny boy I used to know. ‘Big gamble you’re taking with this “all or nothing” approach, Rutherford. You should have accepted a merger. Look at the stats, we had eight new commissions this year. What are you at? Four? You really want to gamble your whole company on the strength of one idea?’
I’m gambling my whole company on the strength of one idea? That does sound rash.
If Coleson is my competition, I can’t let him know that Badger TV is currently a captainless ship. So I try my best to match his cocky tone.
‘I’m pretty confident, Coleson. This big idea of mine is pretty darn big.’
‘Just because I was your runner all those years ago, you think you’ve still got one up on me,’ he says, a note of bitterness creeping in. ‘I’m not Coleslaw any more.’
‘I never called you Coleslaw.’
‘You didn’t correct people though, did you?’ He spits out the words. ‘Now I’m going to take your job, your team and your office too. All that badger décor is getting covered in ferrets.’
‘Not if I wallpaper your office first,’ I say, riled by his aggressive tone.
‘Well, you can’t, because I don’t have an office,’ Coleson declares smugly. ‘Ferret Productions operates a hot desk system for all staff. Ha.’
‘Oh really? You like working like that? Isn’t that really annoying not being able to put your stuff anywhere?’
‘Yes, it is quite annoying. I have my chair set at a certain height and people will keep messing with the back support.’
‘I hate when people mess with the back support.’
We both pause, aware our rivalrous repartee has stalled somewhat.
‘So did you just call for a little verbal sparring, or is there anything else I can help you with, Coleson?’
‘Just the verbal sparring, thanks. Byesy bye.’
He hangs up and I shake my head in incomprehension. Coleson Matthews is my rival and work nemesis? Coleson Matthews who barely knew how to work the photocopier, made tea in the microwave and wasn’t even aware you could pause live TV. I frown at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, then Amy’s high-pitched whine slices through my ear canal, forcing me to rain check this meeting with myself and dart off to find her.
Amy, I’m learning, is not very good at entertaining herself. Sitting on the playroom floor, I use one hand to help her with a farmyard puzzle while using the other to scroll through emails, trying to piece together a puzzle of a different kind. Searching ‘Gary’ and ‘Kydz Network’, I find an email from a few weeks ago. There’s no text, just an attachment. When I click on it, I almost drop my phone as a lifelike, three-dimensional hologram of a man shines out of my handset. The unexpected brightness and incredible realism of the technology takes me by surprise, and I let out a gasp. Amy abandons her puzzle in favour of swiping her hand through the air, trying to grab hold of the hologram’s leg.
‘Morning, Coleson, Lucy,’ says the man, and a flashing ‘Gary Snyder – CEO’, illuminates on the floor beside him. ‘As you know, since incorporating both your companies into our wider Bamph family, we’ve been looking to streamline development budgets. Two teams competing for the same slots is, as I’m sure you can understand, not optimally efficient. I’ve spoken to you both independently, and neither of you were keen on a merger. So we’re going to go with Lucy’s suggestion of a good old-fashioned “pitch off”.’ My heart beats faster in my chest at the mention of my name. ‘Kydz Network needs a new show for their prime-time Saturday slot – it’s a high-value commission. You’ll both pitch directly to the channel and the team with the best idea will get to keep their department in intact. Best of luck to you both.’
The hologram vanishes. Below this email from Gary, there’s an exchange between Michael and me.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
L
Do you really think this is the way to go? It’s a lot of people’s livelihoods to gamble on one idea. Kydz Network are re-staffing their commissioning team, we won’t know who we’re dealing with.
M
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
I don’t want to lose a single member of my team, and I won’t work with Coleson’s numpties. Don’t worry – I’ve got a big idea that’s perfect for this slot. Trust me. L