I hesitate again. This is always tricky; I don’t have many details. I never got to find out much about her before she passedaway, so I’m in the dark on her exact origin or whereabouts. ‘I’m not sure,’ I reply.
He smiles and extends his hand. ‘Name’s Rory. Nice to meet you, Daisy. Sure you wouldn’tlike a cold drink? You look like you could use one.’
I nod in response and start fanning myself with both hands, feeling a wave of heat rise within me. My suit seems to be growing smaller by the moment, my body feels too large, my windpipe too narrow, the air too thick to breathe. I’m suffocating. The Panic begins to set in like an uninvited, unwelcome guest. My mind races with thoughts of my impending doom – this doomed meeting with Lenka, the inevitability of losing this job, then possibly Ash and our plans of moving in and our future together… why would he stay with me if I have nothing? And what else can I do? And what if things get even worse?
The horrifying possibility of losing absolutely everything flashes through my mind, like the instant I lost my mother, then all the other monumental losses that followed, the start of it all. I know too well how easy it is to set the dominoes of destruction in motion – one little nudge and it all comes crashing down. No matter what I do or say now, there’s no way out. I’m trapped, out of options, cornered. There’s no way around it – I can’t save this situation.
Rory gives me a glass of cold water, and I quickly swallow it down. He squeezes my hand and whispers soft reassurances. I keep my eyes shut, counting backwards from 300 as I try to slow my breathing. I remind myself that I’m not really dying, just freaking out. That freaking out is natural.I accept and love myself even though I’m freaking out… In the depths of my chest, I can feel a ripple of calm spread throughout my body – a reminder that it’s going to be okay.
Rory looks at me with kind eyes and says in his gentle voice, ‘It’s all right, Daisy – just take a deep breath and relax. Everything is okay.’
I take his words and let them sink into my mind like a soothing balm.Everything is okay. I accept and love myself even though I’m freaking out – it’s part of being human.We all have things we need to face, no matter how intimidating they seem in the moment. I focus on the coolness of the glass in my hand and thank Rory for helping me find some peace of mind before my meeting with Lenka.
But I think it’s now time to get real. I may as well come clean. I clearly don’t have the strength for another tongue-lashing. Why even bother going in?
‘Truth is, Rory, I’m scared stiff. I think it’s best I just forget all this. Press pause here. I mean what’s the point? It’s already a foregone conclusion that she hates everything I do – I can’t even understand why I thought coming here would make a difference. I guess I went into fight-or-flight mode, but now I’ve taken a breath, I see there’s no hope. She’s made up her mind. Done deal.’
I stand up to leave. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have come in. I should’ve never taken this project in the first place; I apologise for wasting everyone’s time. Just tell Lenka that I’ve falleninto a coma, joined a cult, that I’m donating all my organs… so no need to follow up, delete me from the database – whatever you think will work best. Thank you again for your help. It was nice to meet you, Rory.’
‘Whoa, whoa… hey, hold up a sec!’ He stands up and reaches out. ‘You have come so far already, Daisy! There’s lots going on behind the scenes – it’s not as clear-cut as it seems. I promise you can do this! I’ve seen your work; your drawings are beautiful.’
I glance up at him sceptically. ‘Not according to Lenka,’
‘Lenka doesn’t have the only opinion that counts, no matter how much she’d like you to think so. And plenty of people really respect your work. I’m telling ya, I know these things – I overhear conversations all over the place! I’m bcc’d into everything.’ He taps on his computer for emphasis.
He waves me towards him and quickly looks around to make sure the door is closed and we’re alone. ‘Right, time to spill the tea – Lenka and Matilda Wilder had ablazingrow yesterday – it wasamazing, and horrendous obviously, but it was ahugefight and now they’re not on speaking terms. The battle lines have been drawn. Matilda Wilder is Lenka’s number-one nemesis now.’
‘Really? But why?’
‘I know, right? But she’s frustrated Lenka by still being alive, you know – how dare Matilda still be around, breathing and chipping in ideas for her own books at ninety-five? That’s Lenka’s view. Usually with classical adaptations, the author has been dead for centuries, so Lenka has full creative control and can do what she wants – take it in a more commercial direction and modernise it for current audiences. But Matilda Wilder is alive and kicking and she isn’t having it! She came storming in here yesterday and told Lenka to pipe down.Forest Fablesneeds to stay true to its roots – be reimagined yes but remain faithful to the original work.’
‘Wow. That explains why Lenka’s been extra ratty lately.’
‘Exactly. Lenka is not used to being told what to do.
‘So, take a step back. Know you already have the talent of an artist; now you just need to learn the business psychology side of things, how to handle the good, the bad and the ugly – because they all live amongst us, hiding in plain sight.’ He eyes the room. ‘You’re doing great, so hang on tight. It would be nice to have someone normal here who I can enjoy lunch or a few drinks with.’
I gaze up at him, feeling a little bit of hope. ‘Really?’
‘Absolutely,’ he replies firmly.
‘I’m honestly terrified of what I’ll find when I open that door – shark pool, electric chair, skull and bones of former illustrators.’
Rory bursts out laughing. ‘Don’t give her any more ideas! She suggested to Matilda that they should turn the book into a “survival of the fittest” kind of game, like Noah’s Ark meetsLord of the Flies. They would introduce a flood and all our beloved furries would have to fight each other for survival. Needless to say, Matilda wasn’t too keen on the idea. Can you imagine? Night-nighty, little children, sweet nightmares about animal cannibalism! Lenka doesn’t connect withForest Fablesand it shows. Let’s try to preserve a little world that kids might still want to wake up to.’
He offers me another glass of water, which I gulp back.
‘You’ve done amazingly well in your online critiques over the past three months – you’re at the top of the leader board, Daisy. Most people have left by week four.’
‘This feels likeThe Hunger Games!’
‘Dead on,’ Rory says, nudging me in the elbow. ‘She even has a Mockingjay tattoo on her left butt cheek – something I can’t unsee.’
I really don’t want to think about how he saw that or why, but I’m grateful for the plan and strategy he’s offered me. Rory’s glimmers of optimism, that my job won’t be a total failure and the story can still be salvaged, is enough to give me hope. It’s like a drowning man reaching out for a life raft.
‘Okay, how should I do this? I need all the tips you can give me, Rory.’
‘I learned a lot about how to deal with her while watching hostage-negotiation documentaries online. Lots of great tactics – super-helpful, world-class stuff.She loves to see how far shecan push until she gets resistance. But don’t worry, I know all her tricks now. She doesn’t realise I’ve figured them out, cracked her little code of control – and the moment you see them for yourself, it turns into so much fun.’
