I admired the format myself, a fly-on-the-wall documentary in which experts in psychology watched children at play in a nursery and gave commentary and analysis on their behaviour.
‘I think it was that that made me want to do this for a living. Despite what my parents thought.’
‘They didn’t think it was a good idea?’
She shakes her head. ‘No. Thing is, I did quite well at school.’ I already know this is an understatement. I’ve seen all the A stars she got at A levels. ‘Then when I got into Oxford, they assumed I’d follow a similar sort of path to them.’
‘What do they do?’
‘Dad’s a human rights lawyer. Mum’s a nuclear physicist. I think they think our line of work is a bit silly.’
I cough into my americano. ‘Maybe they’ve got a point.’
‘Well, I disagree,’ she says, indignantly. ‘Because we make peoplehappy. We bring them joy. Personally, I think that’s no small feat.’
I lower my coffee cup. ‘Well then. If you feel that strongly, why on earth would you be giving it up?’
‘Because I’ve tried to develop more ideas this year than I can count and not one of them has come to fruition. I just haven’t got what it takes, Lisa.’
I consider saying all the right things that would make her feel better. But if there’s one thing Daisy’s qualifications prove, it’s that she’s not stupid. So I tell her – gently – what I really think.
‘You’re right, of course. You haven’t come up with a concept that would be workable . . . yet. But do you know how hard it is to get a TV programme made, Daisy? I must have seen about 10,000 proposals in the last decade and commissioned only about 500 of them. All the rest ended up in the trash. Some of those ideas were terrible. Some were fantastic but we just didn’t have the slots or money. I don’t know anyone else who works harder thank you, Daisy. Except possibly me. And the ideas you’re coming up with are . . . all right, I’ll say it. Some of them are a bit bonkers.’
She winces.
‘But that’s one of the reasons why eventually I think you’re going to come up with a hit. Ifeveryonearound here all thought in the same way, Daisy, what a seriously boring content we’d be producing. You’re a true original.’
‘But doesn’t that just mean my judgement is way off?’
‘It means that, right now, you’ve got the imagination but not the experience. Stay the course and that will come. I promise.’
She takes a long inhale that suggests she clearly wasn’t expecting this.
‘Listen, Daisy. Whatever you decide to do – whether you stay or go – I would ask one thing of you.’
She swallows self-consciously and looks up at me. ‘What’s that?’ she asks.
‘Don’t give up on yourself. Because I haven’t.’
Chapter 46
Daisy and I go our separate ways after the meeting. She’d arranged to meet Calvin for a sandwich, or some plant-based alternative. I’m heading back to the office when I hear footsteps quicken behind me – and turn around to see Zach.
My heart triples in speed at the sheer, beautiful sight of him, the way his face lights up when he sees me.
‘Hey you,’ he says, falling into step.
‘Hey yourself. Where are you off to?’
‘I came out for some fresh air after lunch. Feel like walking the long way back to the office?’
‘Sure,’ I reply, as we fall into step with one another. Media City is sparkling this morning. Sunlight bounces off the office blocks and glitters on the gently rippling water. A film crew is setting up in advance of a live broadcast and the faint percussion of clanging bars from the stage being rigged echoes across the piazza.
‘So I heard today that they’ve decided not to make an official replacement for Rose’s job. Because there are only six weeks until she returns, the team thinks they can keep things ticking over between them. Whether Rose will agree when she’s back and has a mountain of stuff to deal with is another matter . . .’
I force a laugh, unable to truly reconcile the idea of her returning to her desk in six weeks with the way she looked at the weekend. I feel a sliver of anxiety at the thought, even though when I texted her this morning she said she was a little betterafter a good night’s sleep. ‘So . . . how are you feeling about leaving?’ I ask tentatively.
‘Well,’ he says, considering the question, ‘I’m looking forward to a ton of things I’ve missed, not least the ranch dressing. But I don’t mind admitting that, overall, I am . . .’ he takes a big sigh, ‘gutted.’
