The Making of Mia (15 page)

‘I’m OK,’ she said, her voice thick with emotion. As much as she was desperate to talk to Lucy about journalism, about
Gloss
, about how she could be a bigger part of the magazine, she just wanted to be left alone. ‘I had a bit of a shock, but I’m
OK.’ She looked Lucy in the eye and wondered if she was in on Debbie’s little plan to kick Jo where it hurt. Jo didn’t think
so – Lucy neither sounded nor looked like the type of girl who would listen to a word of Debbie’s bitchy gossip.

Lucy went into the cubicle and pulled out a wad of tissue to give to Jo before leaning awkwardly against a wall. ‘When I’m
upset I try to think about the last time I was happy. I put myself back into a good mood.’ She flicked her mane of long hair
behind one shoulder and looked at herself in one of the mirrors. Everything about her – from her large grey eyes to her soft,
plump lips – was perfect.

Jo looked down at her shoes and ignored a fresh scuff mark on one of them. ‘I was happy this morning, but that seems like
a long time ago now.’ She leant against the sinks and thought about how she had felt that morning, when she had dressed with
the thought that she was going to convince Joshua Garnet to give her a promotion. That – coupled with unexpectedly seeing
William, and then being told by Debbie that she had only been made Garnet’s PA because she was ugly – made Jo’s head spin,
and she could feel the beginnings of a headache.

‘Do you have any Nurofen?’ Jo asked Lucy, and she watched her rummage in her hard-to-get-hold-of Louis Vuitton Murakami, putting
samples of make-up on the sinks so she could get to the bottom of the bag.

‘Here,’ she said, as she handed Jo the cardboard packet. She
broke into a wry grin. ‘But only take two, mind. Whatever it was that gave you that shock it’s not worth overdosing for.’

Jo stared back at Lucy incredulously and then burst out laughing. Lucy’s eyebrows shot up.

‘What?’

Jo stopped giggling and smiled at her. ‘It’s nothing. It’s just …’ Jo took a deep breath and decided to take a chance. ‘I’ve
never heard any of the
Gloss
girls crack a joke before.’

Lucy grinned. ‘Nor have I. And I’ve been here nearly a year.’

Lucy leant against the sinks so that they were side by side, but was careful not to let her tight black jeans get wet. ‘I
sometimes wonder if they even find some of the jokes in the magazine funny. I often catch Madeline’s eye and wonder if her
face is about to break into a grin, but it never does, which makes me wonder if she’s had too much Botox or is just humourless.
Who would have thought that working on a women’s magazine would be so serious?’

‘That’s exactly what I was thinking,’ Jo said, checking her top for wet spots made by her tears. ‘Everyone’s undoubtedly glamorous,
but …’ Jo stopped herself from finishing her sentence and Lucy looked at her.

‘It’s OK, you know. I won’t tell anyone what you think. God, if Minty could hear me saying she didn’t have a sense of humour
I’d be sacked outright. She thinks I’m after her job as it is. Go on, what were you going to say?’

Jo looked at the floor. ‘I was going to say that you’d think there’d be a bit of personality behind everyone’s glamorous appearances,
but there isn’t.’

Lucy smirked. ‘Agreed. It’s a lot like the magazine, isn’t it? All gloss and no substance. Do you think they’re robots?’

Jo looked at Lucy in shock. Her mouth dropped open, and Lucy rushed to correct herself.

‘I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just, well … Look, don’t tell
anyone I said this, OK, but I’ve never worked with a team of people who take themselves so seriously. They wear the “right”
clothes, they say the “right” things, but they only do what
Gloss
dictates, and they’re the ones who make it up. They live in their own little universe and they don’t seem to realise they’re
caricatures of themselves.’ Lucy shook her head in disbelief at herself, and continued. ‘I worked at
Eden
magazine before this and, believe me,
Gloss
is a different world to most magazines.’

‘What do you mean?’ Jo said, eagerly.

‘Well, nowhere else do journalists believe they are on a par with Hollywood actresses. Helena, that junior writer, said to
me the other day that she was thinking of phoning up Keira Knightley’s manager and telling him she’d be the blonde version.
That she didn’t think Keira was much cop and she’d be a lot better, especially since most of London knows who she is and people
tend to only think Keira is a nobody who got lucky in
Pirates of the Caribbean
.’

Jo giggled. ‘You’re joking? Helena can’t act, can she?’

Lucy smiled. ‘I very much doubt it. And to make matters worse, Helena thinks she’s prettier than her. Keira, I mean. Thinks
she has a “talent”. Not that you need talent, but anyway. It’s not just that. I mean, every publishing company is cut-throat
– that’s the nature of the business – but here it seems like everyone is stabbing each other in the back every single day.
It’s a fucking game, and it’s one I hate taking part in, but my mortgage repayments depend on me playing it well. And to make
matters worse, there are no definite alliances – your best friend today could be your worst enemy tomorrow, and if you don’t
fit in then you’re nobody. A nothing.’

‘I know how that feels.’

Lucy looked at Jo sympathetically. ‘I know you get ignored – I see you hovering after meetings and it’s like
you’re invisible, but can you imagine what would happen if I spoke to you? It would be social death to even acknowledge that
you existed, because to the other girls, you don’t.’

Jo felt like she had been punched in her stomach. She had known all along that people ignored her because of their pack mentality
but, after hearing Lucy admit it, Jo wondered if there was any point in trying to befriend anyone on the editorial team. It
was just like being at school, only ten times worse, because rather than getting detention for being mean, you seemed to get
promoted.

‘Please don’t take it personally – we probably all think the same thing, but none of us is brave enough to speak to you, or
anyone else who isn’t part of the “exclusive
Gloss
gang”.’ Lucy rolled her eyes. ‘Unless one of us does something, nobody will ever step out of line. It’s that competitive
and paranoid.’

Jo sighed. ‘I know,’ she said in a small voice. ‘But I still want to be part of it. I want it so much.’

Lucy looked at her with interest. ‘What, you want to be part of the editorial team?’

Jo nodded. ‘Desperately. I only took a secretarial job here so I could break in, but Joshua Garnet isn’t having any of it.’

‘Are you any good?’

‘I think I am. But …’ Jo looked down at her portfolio on the floor of the cubicle and picked it up. ‘What do you think?’ Jo
handed her work over to Lucy, and as she flicked through the pages in silence Jo nervously set about putting fresh make-up
on, trying not to care that Lucy’s opinion mattered to her as much as Joshua Garnet’s did.

After ten minutes Lucy looked at Jo in amazement. Her eyes were shining, and she kept on looking from the portfolio to Jo
in bewilderment. Lucy couldn’t believe that the dumpy, mousy girl in front of her had produced ideas that anyone on the team
would be proud to call their own. ‘This is fantastic
– I can’t believe Josh would tell you otherwise.’

Jo felt herself brimming with pleasure, and she smiled. Coming from one of the editorial team this meant a lot to her. Perhaps
her lifetime of hard work and struggle had been worth it after all. ‘Do you really think so?’

‘Yes, I do. Each of these is the perfect
Gloss
feature – they’re funny, smart, sexy – and they look the part too. This is exactly what Madeline Turner tries to make us
achieve but we can never seem to. They truly are fucking amazing. I’m impressed.’

Jo felt her smile fading. ‘Why didn’t Joshua think so?’

Lucy sighed but didn’t take her eyes off the portfolio. ‘Did he look at these properly?’

Jo shook her head. Joshua had barely even flicked through them.

‘Well then. If he had, he would have snapped you up to be a feature writer on the spot. If I was in charge – or a features
editor like Araminta at the very least – I would.’

Jo wasn’t consoled. ‘But how do I make him listen to me? It’s like banging my head against a brick wall. He can’t see past
me being his PA.’

Lucy chewed on her lip and Jo was struck at how such an innocent gesture looked sexy on her. ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted.
‘Joshua Garnet is a good publisher if you ask me, but he’s not so good at seeing things that aren’t obvious. I’d love to have
come up with just one of these ideas – if I had I’m willing to bet Joshua would give me a promotion. Or, at the very least,
one of those rewarding smouldering smiles he only turns on when we have been good girls.’

Jo laughed. She’d seen that look.

Lucy stared at her with a strange expression. ‘But what if I did pitch one of your ideas in the next meeting? How would you
feel about that?’ Lucy’s voice was neutral, and Jo felt her smile suddenly freeze.

‘Are you asking for my ideas?’

Lucy shook her head. ‘I could say they’re from a freelancer I know – someone who lives in America or something so she can’t
come into the office.’

Jo looked reluctant, but Lucy was insistent. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know if your ideas really are good enough? Look, you’ve
tried to pitch them and nobody seems to be interested, but what if I tried? What if Joshua just can’t see past you to realise
what great ideas these are?’

‘I suppose it would be OK,’ Jo said slowly. ‘If you think it will work. But what piece do you think we should go for?’

Lucy flicked through the portfolio and landed on a beautifully designed page.

‘How about this one?’ she said, with a glint of amusement in her eyes. ‘We’d be killing two birds with one stone if Joshua
and Madeline gave the thumbs up to this.’

Jo smiled. It was one of her best ideas, and she knew that if Madeline liked this one she’d be able to prove Joshua Garnet
wrong. ‘Why not?’ she said with a smirk, and she gathered up her belongings to go back to her desk.

Lucy grinned. ‘I just wonder who will volunteer to be the guinea pig.’

‘Lizzie, that’s brilliant,’ Madeline said in the next editorial conference. As Jo kept the minutes she flicked through the
notes from the previous meetings, and realised with a jolt that the script for almost all of them was the same. Lizzie suggested
a rubbish fashion idea – normally based around men she wanted to fuck, she noticed – and then when Madeline chided her she
came up with a brilliant idea, seemingly off the cuff. Madeline applauded her, Lizzie basked in her innovative brilliance,
and then suddenly everyone else piled in, offering their ideas to a now-contented Madeline.
Jo looked up at Lucy and caught her eye. Well, she thought, today would be different.

‘And Lucy, what about you?’

Jo sat up slightly straighter and tried not to look directly at Lucy or at Joshua. She kept her head tilted downwards as though
she were concentrating on her notes, and hoped she wouldn’t blush. If Madeline went for this, she thought, not only would
she have confirmation that she was good enough, but she’d have contributed to
Gloss
without Joshua even knowing. Jo’s heart pounded.

‘Have you all heard the rumour about how Keira Knightley landed the lead in next summer’s blockbuster?’ Lucy began, as she
looked around at the ten or so journalists with her eyes shimmering. She was wearing a dark grey sequinned T-shirt that fell
off one shoulder, her trademark black skinny Sass & Bide jeans and red Gucci mules. She commanded the attention and respect
of everyone, and Jo was impressed at how she provoked interest in her idea already. Keira Knightley was still the hottest
actress in the UK, but Jo knew that there had been too many features about her in the magazines lately. There had been a Keira
overkill that
Gloss
had steered away from, but if Lucy pitched this right, there would be a whole new angle to create a fresh feature.

‘Apparently she walked straight into the casting agent’s office after reading the novel it’s based on, and she persuaded him
to give her a deal just by smiling at him. She didn’t even say a word. He knew he’d be stupid if he didn’t give her the part
– she’s
that
good.’

Madeline Turner looked up at Lucy. ‘Is that true?’

Helena interrupted. ‘I don’t think it is, you know,’ she brayed. ‘It’s just one of those industry rumours. But you have to
hand it to the girl; she’s managed to get the column inches without having done very much. Why, I could do better myself.’

Jo forced herself not to look at Lucy and struggled to write everything down. She could feel bemusement rippling from where
Lucy was sitting and Jo knew that if she caught her eye she’d start laughing. Helena was a tall, horsy-looking girl who produced
some of the most mediocre articles Jo had had to type up when she was working with Frieda in the secretarys’ office. Keira
Knightley had more talent in her little fingernail than Helena had in her whole body, but Helena was one of those self-possessed
girls who was over-confident with Daddy’s money. She didn’t seriously think she could take on Keira and win, did she?

‘Which leads me to this article, which has actually been sent in by a friend of mine,’ Lucy said smoothly. ‘There’s definitely
something about Keira. She’s tall and gangly, but we still can’t seem to get enough of her. She’s not the best actress, but
she’s managed to get more column inches than Scarlett Johansson did for
Lost in Translation
. She’s hot, but nobody knows why. I think we can safely say that as long as Keira Knightley has that x-factor she’ll be successful.’

Joshua interrupted, looking at his steel Officine Panerai watch impatiently. ‘So what’s the idea?’

Lucy flashed Joshua a smile to placate him. ‘We take a girl off the street, condition her into acting like Keira would – you
know, she acts sexy, special, full of English-rose charm – and we make her a star. We devote pages on how to get the x-factor,
conveniently forgetting of course that it’s not something you can buy in a shop, but focus on the fashion, the beauty and
the attitude of the x-factor. We turn the girl into a babe, the type of girl who could walk into a casting director’s office
and get a ten-million-dollar lead part just by giving him a sparkly grin. And most importantly we show our readers that you
can change your life without spending hundreds on designer clothes.’