Sushi for Beginners - Marian Keyes [54]
With a long sigh, Lisa exhaled a plume of smoke – the memory of Ashling’s shocked face needled her, made her feel mildly shitty.
She’d always been able to control her emotions before. It had been easy to subjugate them to the greater good, that of the job. She’d better regain her grip.
16
Daily, invitations to press launches arrived in the post – everything from new lines in eye-shadow to openings of shops – and Lisa and Mercedes ruthlessly shared them out between them. Lisa, as editor, got first refusal. But Mercedes, as fashion and beauty editor, had to be allowed to go to a good few too. Ashling, Cinderella-like, stayed behind to mind the shop and Trix was way too far down the feeding chain ever to stand a chance of going.
‘What happens at a publicity do?’ Trix asked Lisa.
‘You stand around with a bunch of other journalists and a few celebrities,’ Lisa said. ‘You talk to anyone important, you listen to the presentation.’
‘Tell me about this one you’re going to today.’
A shop called Morocco was opening its first Irish branch. Lisa couldn’t have cared less, it had been open for years in London, but the Irish franchise holder was treating it as a big deal. Tara Palmer Tompkinson was flying over from London for the launch, which was being held in the Royalton-inspired splendour of the Fitzwilliam hotel.
‘Will they have food?’ Trix asked.
‘There’s usually something. Canapés. Champagne.’
In fact, Lisa dearly hoped there would be food because she’d started a new eating plan – instead of the Seven Dwarves diet she’d moved on to the Publicity diet. She could eat and drink what she liked, but only at publicity events. Lisa knew the importance of being thin, but she refused to be a traditional diet slave. Instead she incorporated unusual limitations and rewards into her relationship with food, always keeping the challenge fresh and interesting.
‘Champagne!’ Excitement made Trix Don-Corleone-hoarse.
‘That’s if they’re not a low-rent outfit, and if they are they don’t get a plug in the mag. Then you get your goody bag and leave.’
‘A goody bag!’ Trix lit up at the mention of something free. Something that she didn’t have to go to the trouble of stealing. ‘What kind of goody bag?’
‘Depends.’ Lisa pouted jadedly. ‘With a cosmetic company you usually get a selection of the new season’s make-up.’
Trix squeaked with delight.
‘With a shop like this, perhaps a bag –’
‘A bag!’ She hadn’t had a free bag in years, not since they’d started electronically tagging them.
‘Or a top.’
‘Oh my God!’ Trix jigged in excitement. ‘You’re so lucky!’
After a long, thoughtful pause, Trix suggested over-innocently, ‘You know, you should really take Ashling along with you.’ The pecking order was such that there was no chance Trix would ever be allowed to go until Ashling was. ‘She’s your deputy editor. She should know what the drill is if you ever get sick.’
‘But…’ Mercedes’ smooth olive face was anxious at the suggestion of someone else muscling in on such sacred ground. There were only so many free lipsticks to go round.
Mercedes’ palpable alarm coupled with the residue of guilt around Ashling made Lisa’s decision easy. ‘Good idea, Trix. OK, Ashling, you can ride shotgun with me this afternoon. That is,’ she added disingenuously, ‘if you’d like to come.’
Ashling had always been bad at holding a grudge. Especially when there was free stuff involved. ‘Would I like to come?’ She disappointed herself by exclaiming, ‘I’d love to come.’
*
Lisa had lunch at the Clarence with a bestselling author whom she was trying to persuade to write a regular column. It was a success. Not only did the woman agree to do the column for a knock-down fee in exchange for regular plugs for her books, but Lisa escaped the lunch almost unscathed. Despite swirling her food energetically around her plate, all she ate was half a cherry tomato and a forkful of corn-fed chicken.
She