I Heart Christmas. Lindsey Kelk
‘Delia didn’t tell me,’ I said, taking an unoffered seat. I felt like such a shambles in front of Mary. She was almost the same age as my mother but always a thousand times more put together than me. I’d left the house in the same old Madewell pencil skirt I’d worn the day before and a neon pink and white striped T-shirt. Somewhere in the bottom of my trusty old Marc Jacobs handbag there was a bright blue Paul & Joe jumper that absolutely failed to bring the entire outfit together. My spring–summer hand-me-downs from Jenny were on the brighter side this season. ‘I got an invitation. To the wedding. Your wedding, to Bob. Bobbity Bob Bob Spencer Bob.’
‘I don’t think we’ll be using his full name in the vows.’ Mary pulled a face and immediately began clicking through screens on her Mac. ‘They went out already? That’s a week early. Honestly, you just can’t hire the right people these days.’
‘Oh no, what a nightmare.’ I rapped on the desk for her attention and repeated myself. ‘Mary, you’re getting married to Bob Spencer?’
‘Well, if I weren’t, the invitations would be kind of an elaborate joke, wouldn’t they?’ Mary took off her glasses and I could swear I almost saw her smile. ‘Yes, Angela, I’m getting married to Bob.’
She paused and waited for me to speak but I didn’t have anything. No words. Not even swear words. Which was odd for me. After a quiet sigh, she picked up her phone and punched in an extension number.
‘Delia, could you come down? Angela appears to have become mute.’ I watched, still silent, and this time there was definitely a smile on her face. ‘Yeah, I checked, she’s still breathing.’
‘I knew something was going on.’ My voice found itself before I managed to exercise any control over its volume. ‘I mean, not in the sense that I had any sort of actual idea but I knew you were up to something. So that’s why you’ve been having all these secret meetings with Delia.’
‘Kind of,’ Mary replied.
‘Kind of?’ Brilliant. I loved it when Mary was vague. That was my favourite. ‘What do you mean, kind of?’
‘My getting married isn’t the only change on the horizon, Angela,’ she replied. ‘Delia and I wanted to have everything ironed out before we presented you with the new plan. So there wouldn’t be any reason for you to panic.’
‘New plan?’ I panicked. ‘What’s going on? Is Gloss closing? Have I been fired?’
It had to be all the pens I’d ‘borrowed’. I couldn’t help it, I was a stationery klepto. I feverishly tried to work out how many had found their way into the bottom of my handbag so I could replace them but there was no use, I’d literally had hundreds away.
‘You haven’t been fired,’ Mary said with a sigh. ‘You always jump to the worst possible conclusion. Why on earth would you be getting fired?’
Don’t say the pens, don’t say the pens, don’t say the pens …
‘I’ve nicked loads of pens.’
‘I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.’ She pressed her lips into a thin line and shook her head, just as the office door opened and Delia appeared. ‘Thank Christ, you’re just in time.’
‘Have I missed anything?’ Delia asked before leaning down to kiss me quickly on the cheek. She smelled like angels would smell if they happened to have spent a spare half hour in Bergdorf with a Black Amex.
‘Angela just confessed that she is heading up an international stationery smuggling cartel,’ Mary replied. ‘But apart from that, no.’
‘So nothing then,’ Delia said, smoothing down her perfect pencil skirt and slipping into the big comfy chair. ‘Right. Where do we start?’
‘Mary’s getting married to Bob.’ I was shouting again. ‘Your granddad, Bob.’
‘Yeah.’ Delia looked at Mary, then looked at me. ‘I know about that one.’
‘And you didn’t tell me?’
How to go from shouting to squealing in two easy steps by Angela Clark.
‘OK, I’m taking this over.’ Mary clapped her hands together and leaned across her desk. ‘Angela. We have a lot of good news to share. And a lot of it concerns you.’
‘Now I know I’m not going to like what you have to say,’ I replied, smoothing down my unironed pencil skirt and wishing I’d worn something more appropriate for running away. ‘Spill it.’
‘Delia has been promoted,’ she said simply. ‘As of January first, she will be VP of business development and acquisitions for all of Spencer Media.’
‘Oh my God, that’s amazing!’ I turned to stare at my friend with wide eyes. ‘I’m so proud of you. You’re literally superwoman. This is incredible.’
‘Thanks, Angela,’ Delia said, blushing a pretty pale pink. ‘It’s kind of amazing.’
‘It’s totally amazing.’ I could feel myself tearing up and tried to fight back the stinging in my eyes. Mary would not appreciate blubbing in her office. ‘Mary’s getting married, you’re getting a promotion …’
‘Watch it, Clark,’ Mary warned.
‘Watching it,’ I replied with a sniff.
‘But it does mean I won’t be around quite so much at Gloss,’ Delia said, placing her hand on my knee and looking at me with big, earnest blue eyes. ‘We’re the reason I’m getting this job. I told Grandpa there was no way I’d sign off on us completely, but there will be a new publisher. I’ll be executive publisher.’
Now was not the time to freak out, I told myself, pasting on a smile and patting Delia’s hand in a way that I hoped was reassuring and not threatening. I wasn’t sure, though. Delia was an amazing businesswoman, this was only ever a matter of time. I knew this was coming, I just wasn’t actually ready for it.
‘And the new publisher will be brilliant,’ I told her. And myself. ‘Don’t you worry about me and Mary. We’ll muddle through.’
‘OK.’ Delia gave an awkward laugh and turned towards Mary. ‘Your turn?’
‘I’m not going to dick around here, Clark,’ Mary said, as casually as humanly possible. I felt my heart rate soar and my face blanch. Thank God I was already so incredibly pale. ‘When Bob and I get married, I’m taking a three-month sabbatical.’
‘But you and Bob are getting married on New Year’s Eve.’ I felt my bottom lip start to quiver. ‘That’s in three weeks.’
‘Plenty of time to get you where we need you,’ she replied with a half-smile.
‘Where do you need me?’ I could hear my voice getting weaker and weaker. They couldn’t actually send me to prison for nicking some pens, surely?
‘We want you to hold down the fort while Mary’s away,’ Delia explained. ‘We want you to be the interim editor of Gloss.’
Ridiculous wasn’t a good enough word for it. We needed to make up a new one – this was supercalifragifuckedup. I took back everything I’d ever said about Delia being a good businesswoman. Clearly she’d gone completely insane. Power made some people mad.
‘Angela?’ she said, reaching out for my hand. ‘You’ve gone quite pale.’
‘OK, one thing at a time,’ I said, clearing my throat and pointing at Delia. ‘You’re leaving?’
‘Not leaving, I just won’t be around for the day-to-day,’ she clarified. ‘But you’ll have a new publisher who you can help hire to support you.’
‘So you’re leaving,’ I corrected her. She sighed and nodded. I turned and pointed across the desk. ‘And you’re leaving?’