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Authors: Sophie Hannah
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Pissed?’
‘I could learn. Russian and French is a good combination, apparently. I did some Googling before I left the office. For the last time
ever
,’ she adds pointedly, reminding me of her hard-done-by status. ‘If you’ve got those two languages . . .’
‘Which you haven’t.’
‘. . . then all you need’s a translation qualification, which you can get at Westminster Uni, and the UN’ll snap you up.’
‘When? In four years’ time?’
‘More like six.’
‘How about I support you while you look for a job
in your field
?’ I stress the last three words. ‘With your track record, you could get one tomorrow.’
‘No, thanks,’ says Tamsin. ‘No more TV for me. TV’s the rut I was stuck in until today. I’m serious, Fliss. Ever since I left university, I’ve been a wage-slave. I don’t want to rush out and find new shackles, now that I’m free. I want to do some living – walk in the park, go ice-skating . . .’
‘What happened to learning French and Russian?’ I ask.
She waves away my concern. ‘There’s plenty of time for that. Maybe I’ll see if there’s a local evening class or something, but mainly I want to . . . take stock, walk around, soak up the atmosphere . . .’
‘You live in Wood Green.’
‘Could you stretch to a flat in Knightsbridge if I’m willing to settle for one bedroom?’
‘Stop,’ I tell her, deciding the joke has gone on long enough. ‘This is exactly why I don’t want to be rich. I don’t want to turn into the sort of person who thinks it’s my God-given right to have more cash than I know what to do with and keep it all for myself. Here I am listening to you witter on, thinking, “Why should I give half my hard-earned fortune to an idle waster?” I’m already turning into that Scroogey miser you mentioned earlier and I haven’t even said I’ll take the job!’
Tamsin blinks at me, her powers of comprehension impaired by alcohol. Eventually she says, ‘You’d resent me.’
‘Probably, yes. The ice-skating might just tip me over the edge.’
She nods. ‘That’s okay. I wouldn’t hold it against you. You can call me a feckless scrounger to my face, if you like, as long as I get my share of the money. I’d rather be insulted by you than have to tout myself round prospective employers feeling the way I do now – unwanted and worthless. What am I talking about?’ She slaps herself on the wrist, then hits my leg, hard. ‘Look what you’ve done – your negativity’s totally dragged me down!’
‘I’m turning down the job, Tam.’
She groans.
‘Which means I’ll probably get my marching orders too by the end of the week. We can go to the National Portrait Gallery together.’
Tell her the truth. Tell her why you can’t make Laurie’s film. You have nothing to be ashamed of
.
‘Bollocks to that!’ Tamsin bangs her fist on the table. ‘If you’re going there, I’m going to the Science Museum instead as a protest at your . . . dickery. Fliss, people dream of things happening to them like what’s happened to you today. You’ve
got
to take it. Even if you decide to leave me to rot in the gutter while you stock up on diamonds.’
‘I’m being serious.’
‘So am I! Think of all the time you’ll get to spend with Laurie, him helping you unofficially – hah!’ She gurgles with laughter. ‘It’s so obvious you’re in love with him.’
‘It can’t be, because I’m not,’ I say firmly. Maybe it’s not such a huge lie. If I’m aware of all the reasons why I shouldn’t love Laurie, which I am, then that has to mean I don’t, not wholly. At the very least, I’m halfway in and halfway out. If I’m in love with him, how come I can so perfectly inhabit the mindset of thinking he’s a git and the bane of my life?
‘You spend
hours
staring out of your window at his office, even when he’s not in it.’ Tamsin chuckles. ‘I’m not going towaste my breath saying no good can come of it. Some good’s already
‘I could learn. Russian and French is a good combination, apparently. I did some Googling before I left the office. For the last time
ever
,’ she adds pointedly, reminding me of her hard-done-by status. ‘If you’ve got those two languages . . .’
‘Which you haven’t.’
‘. . . then all you need’s a translation qualification, which you can get at Westminster Uni, and the UN’ll snap you up.’
‘When? In four years’ time?’
‘More like six.’
‘How about I support you while you look for a job
in your field
?’ I stress the last three words. ‘With your track record, you could get one tomorrow.’
‘No, thanks,’ says Tamsin. ‘No more TV for me. TV’s the rut I was stuck in until today. I’m serious, Fliss. Ever since I left university, I’ve been a wage-slave. I don’t want to rush out and find new shackles, now that I’m free. I want to do some living – walk in the park, go ice-skating . . .’
‘What happened to learning French and Russian?’ I ask.
She waves away my concern. ‘There’s plenty of time for that. Maybe I’ll see if there’s a local evening class or something, but mainly I want to . . . take stock, walk around, soak up the atmosphere . . .’
‘You live in Wood Green.’
‘Could you stretch to a flat in Knightsbridge if I’m willing to settle for one bedroom?’
‘Stop,’ I tell her, deciding the joke has gone on long enough. ‘This is exactly why I don’t want to be rich. I don’t want to turn into the sort of person who thinks it’s my God-given right to have more cash than I know what to do with and keep it all for myself. Here I am listening to you witter on, thinking, “Why should I give half my hard-earned fortune to an idle waster?” I’m already turning into that Scroogey miser you mentioned earlier and I haven’t even said I’ll take the job!’
Tamsin blinks at me, her powers of comprehension impaired by alcohol. Eventually she says, ‘You’d resent me.’
‘Probably, yes. The ice-skating might just tip me over the edge.’
She nods. ‘That’s okay. I wouldn’t hold it against you. You can call me a feckless scrounger to my face, if you like, as long as I get my share of the money. I’d rather be insulted by you than have to tout myself round prospective employers feeling the way I do now – unwanted and worthless. What am I talking about?’ She slaps herself on the wrist, then hits my leg, hard. ‘Look what you’ve done – your negativity’s totally dragged me down!’
‘I’m turning down the job, Tam.’
She groans.
‘Which means I’ll probably get my marching orders too by the end of the week. We can go to the National Portrait Gallery together.’
Tell her the truth. Tell her why you can’t make Laurie’s film. You have nothing to be ashamed of
.
‘Bollocks to that!’ Tamsin bangs her fist on the table. ‘If you’re going there, I’m going to the Science Museum instead as a protest at your . . . dickery. Fliss, people dream of things happening to them like what’s happened to you today. You’ve
got
to take it. Even if you decide to leave me to rot in the gutter while you stock up on diamonds.’
‘I’m being serious.’
‘So am I! Think of all the time you’ll get to spend with Laurie, him helping you unofficially – hah!’ She gurgles with laughter. ‘It’s so obvious you’re in love with him.’
‘It can’t be, because I’m not,’ I say firmly. Maybe it’s not such a huge lie. If I’m aware of all the reasons why I shouldn’t love Laurie, which I am, then that has to mean I don’t, not wholly. At the very least, I’m halfway in and halfway out. If I’m in love with him, how come I can so perfectly inhabit the mindset of thinking he’s a git and the bane of my life?
‘You spend
hours
staring out of your window at his office, even when he’s not in it.’ Tamsin chuckles. ‘I’m not going towaste my breath saying no good can come of it. Some good’s already
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