Life's a Catastrophe by Kirstie Pelling

Author:Kirstie Pelling
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781471411977
Publisher: Bonnier Publishing Fiction
Published: 2021-12-21T14:03:26.038000+00:00

Chapter 16

‘Spectacular effort,’ says Sam, snorting Cava like it’s a recreational drug. ‘You look incredible. Coming as your brand is an inspired idea for influencer awards.’

‘I’m terrified it’s too much.’

‘It’s totally too much. I love it.’

I’d return his warmth if I wasn’t paranoid about smearing or cracking TCP’s makeup job. Retaining the elegance of a cat in a crowded environment is harder than I thought. And that’s before we even take a step inside the ballroom. The roof garden of London’s Miramar Hotel has an awesome view of the city and is stuffed with soothing greenery although the mirrors built into stone arched windows make me feel like I’m in a church. I thank the God of Freixenet for my complimentary drink as I join Sam in knocking it back.

‘Did you know the Vatican has an ATM that speaks Latin?’ I ask him.

‘Pray you have funds?’

‘“Insert your card.” And did you know every person who lives in the Vatican drinks an average of over fifty litres of wine?’

‘A day?’

‘A year.’

‘Pff … my mum and the Irish Catholics of Camden drink more than that on a Sunday. How do you know all this stuff?’

‘YouTube videos. You learn stuff. I feel qualified to do minor surgery and fly a plane.’ My words are drowned by the entertainment, as the cast of a new musical bob in to do their thing. Bellboys push luggage trolleys piled high with suitcases, as dancers sing of the trials of their job in a New York hotel. At the climax of the song, the suitcases flip open and rapping chefs climb out and start flipping rhymes and pancakes into the night sky. It’s all a bit bonkers but they end their performance to enthusiastic applause.

‘Did you know the Romans invented pancakes?’ I ask Sam as a gong sounds and a disembodied voice invites us to move towards the ballroom. ‘My internal organs are scrambled egg tonight,’ I confess as we head downstairs together.

‘Nerves are natural. It’s a big night. You should talk to Rick about feeling sick at awards events. He’s been known to barf into his pockets before presenting.’

‘I wondered if he was exaggerating about that to make me feel better about GlimmerCon. Did you hear I bolted for the exit?’

Sam laughs. ‘I saw it for myself. I love awards dinners and conferences; I was born to schmooze. Mind you, I’m only invited tonight because I’m with you. Thanks for being my golden ticket.’ He pulls me into an awkward half hug, and I feel his skinny bones as I half hug him back. He has shaved his head closer for the night and looks like Spud out of Trainspotting.

‘Any tips on how to get through it?’

‘If you feel overwhelmed then tell people you’re up for the newbie award; they’ll fall over themselves to be nice to you. And don’t worry, you won’t stand out in the crowd as you’ve dressed so conservatively,’ he teases me. ‘Shame you’re not next to me.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I checked out the table plan on my way in; I always try and get my eyes on one before a dinner.

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