“Excellent!” she exclaimed. “And to thank you for that, I would also like to suggest Dylan Knox of Artistry fame for your consideration.”
I almost dropped the phone. “W-what?”
“Oh yes, Harper, you heard that right.” She chuckled, sounding very pleased with herself. “I persuaded him to talk to you for the magazine, but I will let him know that the podcast will be better. I imagine that’s more his style anyway. He does like the sound of his own voice.”
“Dylan Knox will be on my podcast?”
“We’ll have to go over the questions, Harper,” she informed me sternly, “because he won’t go into the recent fallout with the band and why the reunion tour got pulled. Saying that, I will reveal to you—strictlyoff the record—that they are back in discussions. If you’re lucky, by the time you record, he might be able to reveal some news about it on your podcast. But more importantly, it looks like he’s about to land a role in a big prison-drama TV show, and it would seem he’s had a fresh boost of confidence in his acting abilities… largely thanks to me, of course. I think it might work out this time. Sometimes you just need the right role at the right time, as I said to him.”
“Shamari, how can I ever thank you?” I said, gripping the phone.
“You can keep giving my fabulous clients publicity on your podcast,” she replied matter-of-factly. “It’s always been a two-way street, darling. And you know I can’t resist your charm and the way you stalk me on my coffee runs. Anyway, I must dash. One of those fabulous clients I mentioned has just turned up at the office, and judging by her evil glares through my glass door, I’m about to get a bollocking about putting her up for a gigantic flop. I’ll email you to arrange dates for recording! Bye now!”
Dizzy with excitement, I hung up the phone and started dancing around my kitchen floor. Thanks to Shamari, I managed to record two more episodes in quick succession, and then Isabella Blossom contacted me to say it was time to release the podcast—she was worried one of her untrustworthy acquaintances had gotten details of the birth story and was going to blab to the press.
It was now or never.
The day the podcast goes live and Isabella’s episode becomes available, it’s an instant hit. I knew she was going to go down well, but I hadnoidea the episode would take off like this. I’m astonished by the response, sitting at home on my laptop, watching the number of downloads shoot through the roof, scrolling through the mentions on social media. The story of Isabella giving birth in a taxi goes viral—peopleloveit. They love her. And they love me. I suddenly gain hundreds of new Instagram followers and the inbox I’d set up specifically for the podcast explodes with guest requests and pitches.
Isabella and my podcast are all over the showbiz headlines, and the attention gets even more frenzied when I post that the next episode will be an interview with Dylan Knox of Artistry.
I sit alone in the flat, letting it all sink in. My phone vibrates with messages and calls from friends congratulating me. A huge bouquet of flowers arrives from Isabella and Ryan Blossom. Another bouquet of flowers is delivered, and I laugh as I read the message attached to it from Juliet.SCREW MUM AND DAD, it reads.YOU DID IT FOR YOURSELF.
And then I get a message that I’d been hoping for, but not expecting. A WhatsApp from Ryan.MyRyan:
I knew you could do it. This is just the beginning. Congratulations x
That night, Mimi and I go out for averyboozy dinner. It’s nowhere fancy, one of our favorite places in Brixton Village where you have to queue for ages and then sit on a makeshift chair of stacked wooden crates and drink wine from tumblers. When we’re done eating, we’re moved on quickly by the staff, who aretrying to get the queue down as much as possible, and head to a cocktail bar a few doors down where we continue to drink from tumblers, but this time sitting on a wooden bench.
“A toast to you!” Mimi declares, holding up her glass. “Harper Jenkins, who has turned redundancy into an absolute triumph!”
I laugh, knocking my glass against hers. “It’s still early.”
“The podcast is already a smash and you’ve released one episode.One.Everyone already knows that it’s here to stay,” she tells me. “They were all talking about it in the office today. Your ears must have been burning.”
“Really?” I say nonchalantly, like it’s no big deal. “What were people saying?”
“How amazing it is and how you’re going to be famous.”
I wave that off with my hand. “No thanks.”
“You’re going to be like this host extraordinaire. One day, you’ll have a show like Graham Norton, I just know it.”
I burst out laughing. “Okay, that’s a stretch, but I appreciate your belief in me.”
“Oh, and you should have seen Cosmo. Ha!” Her eyes widen with glee. “He knows he’s made a big mistake. At first he was up in arms about you getting the Isabella Blossom exclusive, kept shouting that it was the magazine’s, but Ryan set him straight on that one, reminding him that Isabella entered into no such contract withNarrative.Then when he realized that Ryan was right, he switched tactics and became your biggest fan. The response you’ve got, the interaction online—he’s already scrambling about, trying to work out a way to get you to write for the magazine again. He’s desperately trying to capitalize on your popularity. Did you see all the posts from the magazine’s social media today about the Max Sjöberg piece that you and Ryan wrote? It was in the magazine over the weekend.”
I blush, thinking about the Manchester trip. “I saw it.”
“Cosmo has been yelling about making sure your name is included in every post we put up on socials. Apparently, the powers that be are not happy about the fact they’ve just let go of their star journalist. You really have made them sorry.”
“I wish I was the kind of person who could be mature about this, but I’m not.” I grin. “Hearing that makes meveryhappy.”
“May they rue the day.”
“Absolutely.”
“Ryan is very proud of you.”
