Our Story by Miranda Dickinson

Author:Miranda Dickinson [Dickinson, Miranda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2020-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Four

JOE

Pillock.

Langham may have avoided any more faux pas, but he’s trouble. Not content with having us rewrite all of the initial pitches we’d developed as a team with Russell, he now has us reporting to him for feedback on what we produce. Quality control, he calls it. Being an interfering git, more like.

We work till 3 p.m., thrashing out new possibilities for Russell’s one-line elevator pitches. I don’t think we’ve come up with anything to match our original ideas, but if Langham needs proof that our collective gut feeling is better than his ridiculous process, so be it.

‘This is a total waste of time,’ Reece groans, completing another index card and chucking it onto the pile we’ve created. ‘Dare me to work a killer shark into the next one?’

We share conspiratorial smirks.

‘Do it.’

‘Rethinking your plan to bed the bloke, Rona?’ I ask.

She shrugs. ‘Had to. I’ve not got the time to deal with that.’

‘Probably for the best, Ro. You’d have to develop eight different approaches on index cards for his approval before anything happened,’ I chuckle. ‘Fraser Langham is the only guy in the world who sees feedback as foreplay.’

‘Ugh, can you not?’ Reece shudders. ‘Puts me right off my pizza.’

I like that nobody is defending Langham. Otty totally owned him earlier – and rightly so. I look over to the other group of writers, who are as uniformly miffed as we are. Otty is in the middle, between Jake and Tom, deep in conversation. I watch the way she uses her hands to explain a point – frenetic swoops and staccato beats that punctuate her speech. Things have been easier with her and me since Langham arrived. I’d rather be angry with Langham than Otty.

Russ and Langham return, Fraser noticeably less Tiggerish than before. I wonder what’s been said in private. I hope Russ read him the riot act. It’s hard enough for women in this industry without some privileged middle-class white dude mansplaining their role. Of all the mistakes he could have made, Langham picked the worst.

He takes his seat and looks straight over at Otty’s team. I see the brief smile she sends back to him. My hackles rise. Of course, she’s the sweetest person and it’s typical of her to be kind, but it’s stretching even her loveliness to bless that guy.

Russell is pacing now, picking up index cards and making a show of his approval. He must be regretting ever bringing Fraser Langham into this room. He knows how good we are: we don’t need babysitting.

‘All right, boss?’ I say when he reaches us.

‘Yeah,’ he replies, turning his back on Langham as he grimaces. We all see it and I feel Rona and Reece bloom beside me. ‘Fraser’s suggested one-on-one feedback sessions later today, maybe running into tomorrow. You all okay with that?’

I shrug. ‘Bring it on.’

Perhaps in a bid to lessen the impact, Russell suggests Langham use his office to meet each writer, while the remainder stays in here to continue work on the pitches.

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