Page 51 of What Fresh Hell

‘I’m so glad we sorted this out,’ she whispers in my ear as she climbs in. ‘It’s such a relief, and I’m sorry again – y’know, about everything. You have no idea. I’m so happy to have you as my maid of honour. Sorry I temporarily fired you. Can’t wait for the hen do – it’s going to be fantastic.’

She laughs as I wave her off, and my hand freezes mid-air.

The hen do. The panic is hot as it creeps up my spine.

Shit.

I’m maid of honour again. I’m in charge of Lauren’s hen do.

The hen do I’ve been hoping would go away or magically solve itself. The hen do I’ve pointedly been ignoring. The hen do that is in a few weeks and I’ve done nothing to sort since we all fell out. I’ve pretended it wasn’t happening. I didn’t know if we’d work things out as friends or if I was meant to be cancelling everything, so I buried my head in the sand. Shit, what if our confirmations have all fallen through? What if I’ve lost everyone’s deposits? If this hen do doesn’t go ahead, I really will lose Lauren forever. Could she forgive me if I ruined her only hen do and lost everyone’s money? That could be it for us. Again.

I need to get home and onto my emails immediately.

20

‘Looking good, Franny.’ I grin at her in the mirror and she winks back at me, wiggling her newly threaded and shapedHDbrows.

‘What colour do you fancy, lip-wise?’ Gilly, the make-up artist, cocks her head, a very serious expression on her face.

Franny purses her lips, thinking about it. ‘Well now, Gilly,’ she says hopefully, ‘you wouldn’t happen to have any of the Kylie Jenner lip glosses, by any chance?’

‘Ooh, Franny, you know what, I think I do!’ Gilly looks delighted, her nose ring sparkling. ‘I confiscated one from my daughter this very morning. It’s been used once by a twelve-year-old – is that all right?’

She pulls a cherry red gloss out of her pocket and Franny delightedly snatches it off her. ‘This is perfect!’ she declares, handing it back and pouting carefully as Gilly applies it with precision.

‘Oh Gilly, I look absolutely wonderful,’ Franny sighs as the studio’s make-up artist stands back at last. ‘I could pass for your sister today, Delilah,’ she adds, climbing out of the tall chair and giving her blue hair a final swish for the mirror.

‘Um, I mean, maybe an older aunt,’ I say, a little miffed. ‘If someone wasn’t wearing their glasses and was looking from a long way away.’

Franny ignores me, making kissy faces at the mirror. I gesture for her to follow me. Time to join the rest of the Fuddy-Duddies.

Honestly, I still can’t believe this is really happening. We’re going on air in less than an hour and I’m nervous AF but also absolutely buzzing with energy and excitement. OK, sure, I’m also buzzing with a whole lot of what-the-hell-am-I-doing-this-is-all-going-to-go-horribly-wrong-isn’t-it. But it’s too late now to stop this train, so I might as well enjoy it.

We pass Calum Best in the hallway outside the green room and give him a nod. I wonder if he’s seen Joely yet today. Maybe they can finally make their faux-love work.

So here it is: the production team has been desperately trying for weeks to come up with an idea to add a little pizazz toQuiz Monster’s end-of-series live celebrity special. And we got nowhere. My researchers are all adorable geeks who think the clever questions they come up with are the only thing that matters on a quiz show (bullshit, guys, bullshit). All of Sam’s suggestions involved some form of slow, brutal death for the celebrities, which would’ve been entertaining, no doubt, but might have complicated things. Aslan was even less useful. After he finally stopped trying to charm his way out of helping, he admitted he just didn’t have any ideas. Which is fine. It’s not like it’s a big part of his job or anything.OH, WAIT, IT IS. And then, just when I was giving up hope and preparing to be fired, it hit me. Right in the middle of a Fuddy-Duddies United meeting.

Brainwave. Lightbulb.

A way to raise money for the club – to convince the council to keep us open – and also solve the show’s problem.

The next day I cornered Rex, took a deep breath and I pitched.

Fuddy-Duddies United vs celebrities, live onQuiz Monsters. A bunch of brainy old ladies with an offensively acronymed name, renowned for acing every pub quiz they’ve ever done, whose whole raison d’être is trivia. And a team captain who was once a member of Mensa. Them versus the likes of Calum Best and Professor Green. ‘Real people geniuses’ are very in right now on quiz shows, and the public love seeing a celebrity shown up onTV. Even better when it’s courtesy of a group of innocent-looking old ladies who are trying to raise money to keep their club alive. It’s a fun twist, and seemed like a possible combined solution to both my problems.

Rex loved it, said it was brilliant. He loves old ladies – they’re his staple fandom – and he said it was likeEggheadsmeetsThe ChasemeetsUniversity Challenge. He was so enthusiastic he even insisted on coming along to our nextFUmeeting to break the news personally to the ladies. He barely got out alive.

Anyway, afterwards we had a bit of a chat. I told him that he needs to start using the runners and interns for things and treating me like the experienced professional assistant producer I am. I told him that I’m not going to be his dogsbody anymore. And because I was feeling extra brave, I told him he also had to stop speaking to me in such a patronising, insulting way.

And, weirdly, he said... no problem. He said he didn’t really give a crap who fetched his tea and booked his waxing appointments. He just thought I liked it. Thought I enjoyed the honour and privilege blah blah of being his personal assistant. Then he asked why I hadn’t said anything before.

I felt a bit stupid then. Why didn’t I say something sooner?

As Franny and I arrive back in the green room, I’m hit by a wall of nervous energy bouncing off the walls. Annabel is skipping on the spot, chatting animatedly to Ethel. Sam’s going from lady to lady, ferrying cups of tea and plates of Battenberg around. Franny joins them and they all excitedly ooh and aah over her glamorous new look. But, you know what? They all look great. I’ve never seen them so happy.

Although, is that... has Molly got a drawn-on beauty spot? Bloody hell. Might have to speak to Gilly about that, seems a bit excessive. She looks like she’s been dressed for a period drama.

Sam beams at me as she passes. ‘This is going to be so great,’ she whispers, offering me a slice of cake.

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