is always fifteen miles away and takes for ever and the way no one from the north, south-east or west ever sees anyone from anywhere except those places and despises the people that come from anywhere else. It’s obsessed with trainers, cocktails, guest lists and whatever the fucking Evening Standard tells them to be obsessed with.’
‘That’s not sounding so good,’ said Katie.
‘But it’s all we’ve got,’ finished Louise. ‘Don’t you see? We don’t have a huge amount of choice. It’s this, or having people discuss everything you buy in the Spar.’
‘The what?’
‘The Spar,’ Louise pouted. ‘If you have no shop, you’re a hamlet. If you have a Spar, you’re a village. If you have a Fairfields, you’re a town. Anyway, that’s not the point…’
‘And if you have a cathedral, you’re a city! So that’s how it works,’ said Katie. ‘I never knew that.’
‘Well,’ Louise pouted again.
‘There’s always the suburbs,’ offered Katie.
‘Do I look like I enjoy having my hair done and committing adultery?’ sniffed Louise.
‘Yes,’ said Katie.
‘That’s not the point. The point is, that the city is cool.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it’s urban, and hip, and…there’s hip things going on, and…’
Katie sipped her coffee carefully. ‘When’s the last time you bought Time Out?’
‘What? Why?’
‘Just asking.’
‘When’s the last time I bought Time Out?’ Louise looked as if she were trying to remember.
‘You’re scared of Time Out,’ said Katie.
‘I am not.’
‘You are. You’re scared of it. I remember. You moved here, read it for six months, never ever did any of the cool things it suggested that you do. Now you’re scared of it because it reminds you that there’s lots of things happening and all we ever do is go to work, go to the wine bar, and look for men.’
‘So, what do you want? A pair of flashy wellies? Some chickens?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Katie. ‘But I do know I want a change.’
A week later, they were at a new, trendier, cocktail bar. Olivia and Louise were staring grumpily into their espresso martinis. Katie’s head was hidden behind a paper.
‘Press officer required for a children’s hospital,’ she read. ‘See! I could do some good in the world.’
‘Are you thinking about hot doctors?’ asked Louise.
‘With cool caring hands and a lovely bedside manner? No,’ said Katie quickly.
‘Make sure you ask them about the cool caring hands bit at the interview – there’s a lot of girl doctors these days.’
Katie turned the page and sighed.
‘Put the paper down,’ said Olivia. ‘You’re not leaving, and that’s the end of it. I need you. We’ve got the carbohydrate-free chip coming up. It tastes like shit, but the magic is, it looks like a chip.’
‘Plus, we’ve got lots to do. You know, there’s that new dating thing on at Vinopolis,’ Louise said. ‘We could go to that. You eat your dinner in the dark, and get to know people without seeing them.’
‘You can tell if people are fat just from the way they sound,’ said Olivia.
‘No you can’t!’
‘Yes you can! And if they’re drippy and wet.’
‘You are an evil, prejudiced woman.’
‘Hey, look at this,’ said Katie.
She showed them the advert.
Can you see the wood for the trees? Fairlish Forestry Commission is looking for a press officer with at least three years’ experience in a related field. Knowledge of local wildlife/degree in zoology preferred. Contact: 1 Buhvain Grove, Fairlish IV74 9PB. Salary £24k
They gathered around to take a look at it. There was a long silence.
‘Katie,’ said Olivia gently. ‘Put the paper down. You know your degree is in history of art and theatre studies.’
‘It says “preferred”,’ said Katie.
Olivia sighed and jumped down inelegantly from the ridiculously high stools to join the queue for the ladies.
‘Think, open spaces, fresh air…’
‘You hate fresh air,’ said Louise.
‘Maybe I just don’t know what it is…’
‘Forestry Commission?’ said Louise. ‘Katie, all you know about is lipgloss and low-fat fudge.’
‘That’s related,’ said Katie. ‘We do lots of not-tested-on-animals stuff.’
‘OK, question one,’ said Louise. ‘What is the local wildlife?’
‘Badgers?’
‘Well, I wouldn’t know,’ said Louise, ‘because I haven’t the faintest clue where Fairlish is. Do you?’
‘You’re being very negative,’ said Katie. ‘Is it so bad to want a change?’
‘It is if they’re only paying you 24k.’
‘I think I’ll head for home,’ said Katie, folding up the paper in a suspiciously noisy flurry.
‘Why?’ Olivia, returned, sounded suspicious.
‘Bit tired…no reason.’
‘Are you going home to make up an imaginary CV?’ whispered Louise as she got up to walk Katie to the Tube – she was still a little nervous late at night.
Katie didn’t answer.
‘You realise you’d put the lives of hundreds of innocent animals at risk?’
‘What if Fairlish is actually in Liberia?’ said Olivia. ‘Lots of people read this paper, all over the world. You’ll be sorry.’
‘Well, I’m in PR,’ said Katie. ‘I’d put a brave face on it.’
