Confessions of a Shopaholic
Page 105
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I stare at him, taken aback. It’s not that funny.
“Look, I’m very sorry I couldn’t make the last meeting,” I say, trying to sound businesslike. “Things were a bit difficult for me at that time. But if we could reschedule. .”
“Reschedule!” cries Derek Smeath, as though I’ve just cracked a hysterical joke. “Reschedule!”
I gaze at him indignantly. He’s not taking me seriously at all, is he? He hasn’t shaken my hand, and he’s not even listening to what I’m saying. I’m telling him I want to come in for a meeting — I actually want to — and he’s just treating me like a joke.
And no wonder, interrupts a tiny voice inside me. Look at the way you’ve behaved. Look at the way you’ve treated him. Frankly, it’s a wonder he’s being civil to you at all.
I look up at his face, still crinkled in laughter. . and suddenly feel very chastened.
Because the truth is, he could have been a lot nastier to me than he has been. He could have taken my card away a long time ago. Or sent the bailiffs round. Or had me blacklisted. He’s actually been very nice to me, one way or another, and all I’ve done is lie and wriggle and run away.
“Listen,” I say quickly. “Please. Give me another chance. I really want to sort my finances out. I want to repay my overdraft. But I need you to help me. I’m. .” I swallow. “I’m asking you to help me, Mr. Smeath.”
There’s a long pause. Derek Smeath looks around for a place to put his coffee cup, takes a white handkerchief out of his pocket, and rubs his brow with it. Then he puts it away and gives me a long look.
“You’re serious,” he says at last.
“Yes.”
“You’ll really make an effort?”
“Yes. And—” I bite my lip. “And I’m very grateful for all the allowances you’ve made for me. I really am.”
Suddenly I feel almost tearful. I want to be good. I want to get my life in order. I want him to tell me what to do to make things right.
“All right,” says Derek Smeath at last. “Let’s see what we can sort out. You come into the office tomorrow, nine-thirty sharp, and we’ll have a little chat.”
“Thanks,” I say, my whole body subsiding in relief. “Thank you so much. I’ll be there. I promise.”
“You’d better be,” he says. “No more excuses.” Then a faint smile passes over his features. “By the way,” he adds, gesturing to the set. “I thought you did very well up there, with all your advice.”
“Oh,” I say in surprise. “Well. . thanks. That’s really. .” I clear my throat. “How did you get into the studio, anyway? I thought they had quite tight security.”
“They do,” replies Derek Smeath. “But my daughter works in television.” He smiles fondly. “She used to work on this very show.”
“Really?” I say incredulously.
God, how amazing. Derek Smeath has a daughter. He’s probably got a whole family, come to that. A wife, and everything. Who would have thought it?
“I’d better go,” he says, and drains his polystyrene cup. “This was a bit of an unscheduled detour.” He gives me a severe look. “And I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there,” I say quickly, as he walks off toward the exit. “And. . and thanks. Thanks a lot.”
As he disappears, I sink down onto a nearby chair. I can’t quite believe I’ve just had a pleasant, civilized conversation with Derek Smeath. With Derek Smeath! And actually, he seems quite a sweetheart. He’s been so nice and kind to me, and his daughter works in television. . I mean, who knows, maybe I’ll get to know her, too. Maybe I’ll become friends with the whole family. Wouldn’t that be great? I’ll start going to dinner at their house, and his wife will give me a warm hug when I arrive, and I’ll help her with the salad and stuff. .
“Rebecca!” comes a voice from behind me, and I turn round to see Zelda approaching, still clutching her clipboard.
“Hi,” I say happily. “How’s it going?”
“Great,” she says, and pulls up a chair. “Now, I want to have a little talk.”
“Oh,” I say, suddenly nervous. “OK. What about?”
“We thought you did tremendously well today,” says Zelda, crossing one jeaned leg over the other. “Tremendously well. I’ve spoken to Emma and Rory and our senior producer”—she pauses for effect—“and they’d all like to see you back on the show.”
“Look, I’m very sorry I couldn’t make the last meeting,” I say, trying to sound businesslike. “Things were a bit difficult for me at that time. But if we could reschedule. .”
“Reschedule!” cries Derek Smeath, as though I’ve just cracked a hysterical joke. “Reschedule!”
I gaze at him indignantly. He’s not taking me seriously at all, is he? He hasn’t shaken my hand, and he’s not even listening to what I’m saying. I’m telling him I want to come in for a meeting — I actually want to — and he’s just treating me like a joke.
And no wonder, interrupts a tiny voice inside me. Look at the way you’ve behaved. Look at the way you’ve treated him. Frankly, it’s a wonder he’s being civil to you at all.
I look up at his face, still crinkled in laughter. . and suddenly feel very chastened.
Because the truth is, he could have been a lot nastier to me than he has been. He could have taken my card away a long time ago. Or sent the bailiffs round. Or had me blacklisted. He’s actually been very nice to me, one way or another, and all I’ve done is lie and wriggle and run away.
“Listen,” I say quickly. “Please. Give me another chance. I really want to sort my finances out. I want to repay my overdraft. But I need you to help me. I’m. .” I swallow. “I’m asking you to help me, Mr. Smeath.”
There’s a long pause. Derek Smeath looks around for a place to put his coffee cup, takes a white handkerchief out of his pocket, and rubs his brow with it. Then he puts it away and gives me a long look.
“You’re serious,” he says at last.
“Yes.”
“You’ll really make an effort?”
“Yes. And—” I bite my lip. “And I’m very grateful for all the allowances you’ve made for me. I really am.”
Suddenly I feel almost tearful. I want to be good. I want to get my life in order. I want him to tell me what to do to make things right.
“All right,” says Derek Smeath at last. “Let’s see what we can sort out. You come into the office tomorrow, nine-thirty sharp, and we’ll have a little chat.”
“Thanks,” I say, my whole body subsiding in relief. “Thank you so much. I’ll be there. I promise.”
“You’d better be,” he says. “No more excuses.” Then a faint smile passes over his features. “By the way,” he adds, gesturing to the set. “I thought you did very well up there, with all your advice.”
“Oh,” I say in surprise. “Well. . thanks. That’s really. .” I clear my throat. “How did you get into the studio, anyway? I thought they had quite tight security.”
“They do,” replies Derek Smeath. “But my daughter works in television.” He smiles fondly. “She used to work on this very show.”
“Really?” I say incredulously.
God, how amazing. Derek Smeath has a daughter. He’s probably got a whole family, come to that. A wife, and everything. Who would have thought it?
“I’d better go,” he says, and drains his polystyrene cup. “This was a bit of an unscheduled detour.” He gives me a severe look. “And I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there,” I say quickly, as he walks off toward the exit. “And. . and thanks. Thanks a lot.”
As he disappears, I sink down onto a nearby chair. I can’t quite believe I’ve just had a pleasant, civilized conversation with Derek Smeath. With Derek Smeath! And actually, he seems quite a sweetheart. He’s been so nice and kind to me, and his daughter works in television. . I mean, who knows, maybe I’ll get to know her, too. Maybe I’ll become friends with the whole family. Wouldn’t that be great? I’ll start going to dinner at their house, and his wife will give me a warm hug when I arrive, and I’ll help her with the salad and stuff. .
“Rebecca!” comes a voice from behind me, and I turn round to see Zelda approaching, still clutching her clipboard.
“Hi,” I say happily. “How’s it going?”
“Great,” she says, and pulls up a chair. “Now, I want to have a little talk.”
“Oh,” I say, suddenly nervous. “OK. What about?”
“We thought you did tremendously well today,” says Zelda, crossing one jeaned leg over the other. “Tremendously well. I’ve spoken to Emma and Rory and our senior producer”—she pauses for effect—“and they’d all like to see you back on the show.”
