A Funny Thing About Love (3 page)

‘Oh God!' Carmen wailed. ‘If she gave you a hard time, what is mine going to be like? She'll make mincemeat of me!'

‘You'll be fine,' Lottie replied, but both she and Carmen knew that was not true.

‘So what kinds of things did she say?' Carmen asked tentatively, thinking forewarned was forearmed.

‘Oh, the usual crap about meeting targets, getting more clients, charging them more. Honestly, the woman knows nothing about comedy.' Lottie shook her head and chewed a nail before changing the subject completely. ‘So I reckon tonight will be the night that you and Will get together.'

‘Lottie!' Carmen was outraged. ‘No way is that going to happen, especially not in front of all you lot, who'll be sitting there like a bunch of hyenas eyeballing our every move.'

‘So perhaps it will happen when we've all gone home,' Lottie persisted. It was why she was such a damn fine agent, she was ruthless in pursuing a point.

‘No, it won't! There is nothing going on between me and Will. We're just friends.'

Lottie let out a snort of laughter, ‘Come on, Carmen, there is so much suppressed lust between you two, I'm surprised you haven't both combusted!'

Carmen curled her lip. ‘I have no further comment to make.'

‘I think you'd be good together.' Lottie was not going to give up. ‘You know that I didn't like Will when I first met him, but I really like him now.'

‘Right, this is the last thing I'm going to say on the subject. I am not going to go there. He might even have a girlfriend for all I know.'

‘He hasn't got a girlfriend. He split up with her four months ago. He's ready for you, fully primed. A Ferrari waiting to be switched on, a panther ready to sprint, a—'

Carmen cut across her. ‘Out, now,' and pointed at the door. Reluctantly Lottie got up. She was almost out the door when Carmen called, ‘Wish me luck with my appraisal.'

‘Good luck, and don't cry. Remember, Tiana thrives on weakness.'

Carmen rolled her eyes by way of an answer.

She tried cracking on with some work after that. She took a call from a producer interested in one of her acts and sent off a few emails, but she was really suffering from attention deficit disorder – first the hangover, then the appraisal, and then Will. She wouldn't admit it to Lottie, but she was right, there
was
so much suppressed lust between her and Will. There
had been from the first time they met, but both had been wary about going beyond flirtation. They had never even been for a drink together on their own, always with colleagues. The only time they were alone was in the office. But the truth was she knew she liked Will. Liked him very much. Fancied him like crazy, in fact.

She looked at her watch. Five minutes before her encounter with Comedy Bypass. She pulled her makeup bag out and did a quick check.
Hallelujah, praise the Lord for cosmetics
, she thought as she registered that, despite having the hangover from hell, she didn't look too bad all things considered, though her green eyes had a slightly world-weary air about them. Carmen had never been a woman for the natural look. She had decided aged eighteen that she would never leave the house without lipstick. She had worked her way through a rainbow of colours before deciding her favourite was red, or, to give it its proper name, Fire by Chanel. With the red lipstick she wore black eyeliner and lashings of mascara. She loved make-up, loved its transforming powers, loved the feeling that she could look like someone different today.

Right now she really was wishing she could
be
someone different as she made her way along the corridor to Tiana's office – say Lara Croft, who wouldn't be intimidated by a passive-aggressive executive, although the leather catsuit would probably not be such a good look for size-twelve Carmen, making her more porn star than action heroine. Will was on the phone
when she walked past him, but he gave her the thumbs up.

Trish was on duty outside Tiana's office, typing away at her computer. Carmen adored Trish. In her late twenties, she was a beautiful Ghanaian woman with the kindest, sweetest nature. The window ledge and filing cabinets surrounding her were covered in brightly coloured pots containing cacti of every shape and size – fleshy, star-shaped cacti, pointy cacti like the ones you always saw in westerns, and small, ball-shaped cacti, which looked furry rather than spiky. It was safe to say that Trish loved cacti.

She gave her warmest smile when she saw Carmen, and Carmen caught a waft of uplifting geranium – Trish was a great believer in essential oils. ‘Hi, she'll be a few minutes.'

Typical mean boss tactic of Tiana to make her wait.

Carmen shrugged. ‘You're coming out tonight, aren't you, Trish?'

‘Sure am!' she replied, flicking back her long black hair which she'd just had braided. ‘Biscuit?' She held out a tin of home-made shortbread. ‘Mum made it.'

Carmen shook her head, while Trish popped one into her mouth. She caught Carmen looking at her and said guiltily, ‘Yes, I know I said I'd join Weight Watchers, but I've just been so busy organising all the appraisals that I haven't had time.' Trish was always making excuses. She'd been a size eighteen for as long as Carmen had known her, and she was permanently starting diets and abandoning them. The trouble was
she still lived at home and her mum was forever feeding her comfort food.

‘Trish, I'm not judging you, but you did say you really wanted to this time. I'll come with you to the sessions if you can find one near here.'

‘Okay, thanks. I would appreciate that, Carmen, though are you sure you won't get lynched for being a size zero?'

‘I'm a size twelve, Trish.'

‘Oh, it's just that you all seem so skinny to me.' Trish looked sadly at her magnificent, ample figure which was threatening to spill out of the black wrap dress. At that moment her phone gave a single ring.

‘She's ready for you. Have a quick whiff of this, it's supposed to help you centre yourself.' She thrust a small vial of tea tree, menthol and eucalyptus under Carmen's nose, which smelt so strong it made Carmen's eyes water. Damn it! She would look as if she was crying before Tiana even got started on her.

Tiana's office was at least five times the size of everyone else's, with a pleasant view of London rooftops instead of the yard with bins and a motley crew of pigeons that comprised Carmen's view. Tiana was sitting on one of the lilac leather sofas, looking like the model executive as she tapped daintily away on her BlackBerry. She looked up briefly. ‘Hello, Carmen, do take a seat?'

Carmen had quite liked Australian accents until she met Tiana; now she wasn't so sure. On the one hand there was her image of Australians, which tended to
be on the clichéd side – happy-go-lucky, maybe a little worried about skin cancer but on the whole saying yes to life while having a barbie and cracking open the beer – and on the other there was Tiana with her passive-aggression. Every time she spoke with that Antipodean lift at the end of her sentences which suggested a question but actually was not, it set Carmen's teeth on edge as much as someone raking their nails down a blackboard.

She sat on the sofa opposite Tiana and shivered. Her boss always had the air con up to the max. Tiana continued tapping away on her BlackBerry. Carmen couldn't recall ever seeing her without it – she was bound to be one of those people who slept with it under their pillow. She tried to cheer herself up by imagining Tiana in the throes of passion with her partner and hearing her BlackBerry ring. Faced with the choice of interrupting the passion or ignoring the call, Carmen reckoned coitus interruptus every time. She looked round the office, taking in the gigantic glass vase of white lilies and the flickering Diptyque candle on the desk, then looked back at her boss.

Tiana had shoulder-length honey-blonde hair which was her pride and joy. Carmen knew from Trish that she had it blow-dried twice a week. Along with the salon-perfect hair, her nails were always immaculately French manicured. She favoured fitted jackets with pencil skirts to show off her trim figure. Navy or black were her preferred colours and she always wore killer heels. Today she was wearing a black suit and a pair
of black patent Louboutins. Somehow that iconic red sole which Carmen had always adored looked menacing as Tiana uncrossed and recrossed her legs. She had the sudden image of Tiana walking all over her, the red of the soles mixing with Carmen's blood. Oh God, stress really could do terrible things to a mind.

Tiana finally dragged her eyes from her beloved BlackBerry and gave the briefest of smiles. ‘Before we get down to the nitty-gritty, how do you think these past months have been?' Okay, that was a question, so she was allowed her Antipodean lift.

‘Well,' Carmen began cautiously, ‘I would say that I've really been consolidating my relationship with my clients and finding new projects for them – in TV, radio and live gigs.' She reeled off the names of several of her clients, outlining what work they were doing.

‘And what about any new clients?' Okay, she was allowed the lift there as well.

‘There are two possibilities. Will is going to see them as well before we make a final decision.'

Tiana looked at her. ‘I would have expected more?' Ha, there she went with the spurious question-asking voice. The session went downhill from there. Tiana didn't let up with her criticism of Carmen's performance. She hadn't been proactive or hardworking enough. She was late at least once a fortnight. She seemed to lack direction and drive. Did Carmen realise how many other people there were out there who would jump at the chance to be a comedy agent in the prestigious Fox and Nicholson? This was less an
appraisal and more a character assassination. The only way Carmen could stop herself from crying was to recite the lyrics from
West Side Story
's ‘Somewhere' in her head. Beautiful, uplifting words which told her that there was a truth beyond Tiana and her brutal words as she battered relentlessly at Carmen's self-esteem.

‘So we'll give it another month, Carmen, and review your performance again. I really need to see an improvement?' Not a question but a command.

Somehow Carmen managed to get up from the sofa and walk out of the office. Her cheeks were flaming with a mixture of mortification, humiliation and resentment. She knew, in spite of Tiana's dressing-down, that she did have some redeeming qualities as an agent. Trish looked at her with concern. She silently held out the tin of shortbread. Carmen took two and crammed them into her mouth. Through the crumbs she managed to mumble, ‘Is Matthew in?'

Trish nodded and Carmen knocked on his door and hearing a muttered, ‘Enter,' she walked in. Instantly she was assailed by whisky fumes and presented with the sight of Matthew lying stretched out on his battered brown leather sofa. He had resisted a refit to his office, which was messy, full of books and papers, and a million times more welcoming than Tiana's. But it didn't seem so welcoming right now. Matthew was pissed. ‘Carmen, lovely to see you! What can I do for you, my angel?'

Carmen had been hoping for an uplifting pep talk but there was no way she was going to get that from
Matthew. His pale blue eyes could barely focus on her. Matthew was sixty-five but looked at least ten years younger. He had a full head of silver-grey hair and his eyes were usually sparkling with mischief, as if he was permanently amused. He must have been a very good-looking man when he was younger, along the lines of the actor Terence Stamp, and he was still striking. Carmen nicknamed him Silver Fox. But he was not looking so good today. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes bloodshot. The silver hair was dishevelled and his purple silk shirt had a large stain on the front.

‘Oh, I was just popping by. Are you okay?'

‘I'm fine. You must have had your appraisal. I said lovely things about you so hopefully that will have registered with Comedy Bypass. You really are one of my favourite agents. Super agent Miller.' He raised his whisky glass to her.

Carmen didn't have the heart to report that Tiana had failed to say a single favourable thing about her. Matthew seemed such a wreck. He'd always drunk a lot but usually only after work. He also had an emergency supply of alcohol in his office open to anyone who'd had a bad day. It looked as though Matthew had helped himself to the entire stash. Since Fox had taken over, Carmen had noticed that Matthew's alcohol consumption had risen dramatically and he had lost some of his joie de vivre.

‘Anyway, I'm just nipping out and wondered if you wanted me to get you anything. A sandwich or a coffee?' Matthew would need an urn of coffee to get sober. She
couldn't bear the thought of Tiana seeing him in this state and further sidelining him.

‘Thanks, but I'm fine and dandy.'

‘Are you going to Will's birthday drinks?'

Matthew shook his head. ‘Going to the theatre with Penny – it's her birthday too.' Penny was his wife. Carmen couldn't imagine that Matthew would be capable of going anywhere other than straight to bed. She walked wearily back to her office. Everyone else was out at lunch. She really should sit down and do some work, but she couldn't face it. She grabbed her bag and jacket. There was only one thing for it, a spot of retail therapy to take away the blues. Besides, she needed something to wear tonight, something a little more exciting than jeans and Converses.

Oh, the bliss of walking out of the office and going into shops where assistants were actually nice to you and didn't tell you that you should work harder, that you were a loser and needed to buck up your ideas or else. Swept up on a wave of post-appraisal misery, Carmen ended up in French Connection buying a gorgeous green silk tunic dress, which made her eyes look even more intensely green. And because that was never going to go with her Converses – Agyness Deyn she was not – it inspired the purchase of a pair of patent shoe boots from Kurt Geiger. All better now, she thought, as she returned to the office and managed to sneak in without anyone seeing her. Tomorrow's another day and all that. She would work hard the
next day, take on board Tiana's harsh words, but today she was too tired, she just needed to sit quietly and decide what to do about Will.