know,’ Lucy said.
‘ I know. He told me. He’s very excited. That’s all I can tell you.’
Lucy started to feel nervous. She knew how much Charlotte loved buying expensive gifts on behalf of clients. And she was beaming right now – a great big, scary smile across her face.
‘I hope I’m not going to find a dozen roses outside our apartment when I get home. You know they make me sneeze.’
Charlotte laughed. ‘Oh please, give me some credit. I don’t work for a florist.’
That made Lucy even more worried. ‘I really don’t want to get home and find anything from Durban.’
‘But of course you do,’ Charlotte insisted.
‘Charlotte, whatever it is that Durban thinks I’m going to love – I’m not.’
‘But you will,’ Charlotte said. ‘I know you will.’
‘Charlotte, no. Seriously. I just want to meet Yu. I don’t want anything from Durban.’
Charlotte’s face dropped. ‘But it’s Versace,’ she whispered, and then she quickly put her hand up to cover her mouth.
Lucy’s body went limp. She shook her head. ‘I can’t.’ She couldn’t spend another second with Durban – it was too much to go through just to meet Yu. She looked down at her mobile, reading the text she’d composed to cancel her date with Durban, paused for a moment, and pressed the send button. She wanted to see Byron tonight – not Durban, not a new Versace dress, not even Yu. She was going to see Byron.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Cancelling on Durban.’
‘Why? I promise you’ll love the dress. And Yu will love it, too.’
Lucy shook her head. ‘It’s not about the dress. And for a change – it’s not about Yu either. This is about me.’
‘It’s just a date,’ Lucy said to herself as she rode the lift to Vue. So why , she wondered, do I feel like I’m arriving for an exclusive interview with the Chinese premier and haven’t thought of a single question ? She had knots in her stomach the size of cricket balls and her arms were covered in goosebumps. The sub-zero air-conditioning was partly to blame, but it didn’t explain the pain in her belly.
Lucy’s mind slipped back to her last year of uni, when she was chosen for an internship program at the Olympics. For two weeks she got to be a reporter, covering news conferences, editing packages and, of course, interviewing athletes. One interview that stood out in her mind took place just after Australia won the four by 100-metre women’s swimming relay. The whole venue had gone mad. It had been a massively close race, with the Australian team just beating the favourites. The pool was still buzzing well after the race as the girls headed for the changing rooms at the far end of the pool.
Lucy remembered how nervous she had been as the team approached the media enclosure. As the girls came nearer, Lucy hung over the barricade on the poolside, microphone at the ready, calling out their names. But the team bounced straight past and stopped to talk to a more famous news reporter. She listened as they gushed over their unexpected win – excited, ecstatic even, but still modest. No wonder everyone loved them. Lucy stood by, smiling, even though she’d missed the interview. She was too happy for the team to be sorry for herself.
One of the girls, Cindy Ho, the youngest and least well known, glanced around the crowd, waving to spectators, until her eyes settled on Lucy. Then, quite unexpectedly, she broke away from her teammates and, possibly because she saw Lucy as some kind of ethnically kindred spirit, Ho came to talk to her.
Lucy had been so shocked she immediately forgot all of her carefully prepared questions and became completely tonguetied. It was several seconds before she managed to get it together and ask the swimmer: How do you feel? It was hardly an earth-shattering start, but Cindy Ho opened up about what it was like to be representing her country. She was weeping with pride, and then sadness, because she’d just lost her mother to
‘ I know. He told me. He’s very excited. That’s all I can tell you.’
Lucy started to feel nervous. She knew how much Charlotte loved buying expensive gifts on behalf of clients. And she was beaming right now – a great big, scary smile across her face.
‘I hope I’m not going to find a dozen roses outside our apartment when I get home. You know they make me sneeze.’
Charlotte laughed. ‘Oh please, give me some credit. I don’t work for a florist.’
That made Lucy even more worried. ‘I really don’t want to get home and find anything from Durban.’
‘But of course you do,’ Charlotte insisted.
‘Charlotte, whatever it is that Durban thinks I’m going to love – I’m not.’
‘But you will,’ Charlotte said. ‘I know you will.’
‘Charlotte, no. Seriously. I just want to meet Yu. I don’t want anything from Durban.’
Charlotte’s face dropped. ‘But it’s Versace,’ she whispered, and then she quickly put her hand up to cover her mouth.
Lucy’s body went limp. She shook her head. ‘I can’t.’ She couldn’t spend another second with Durban – it was too much to go through just to meet Yu. She looked down at her mobile, reading the text she’d composed to cancel her date with Durban, paused for a moment, and pressed the send button. She wanted to see Byron tonight – not Durban, not a new Versace dress, not even Yu. She was going to see Byron.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Cancelling on Durban.’
‘Why? I promise you’ll love the dress. And Yu will love it, too.’
Lucy shook her head. ‘It’s not about the dress. And for a change – it’s not about Yu either. This is about me.’
‘It’s just a date,’ Lucy said to herself as she rode the lift to Vue. So why , she wondered, do I feel like I’m arriving for an exclusive interview with the Chinese premier and haven’t thought of a single question ? She had knots in her stomach the size of cricket balls and her arms were covered in goosebumps. The sub-zero air-conditioning was partly to blame, but it didn’t explain the pain in her belly.
Lucy’s mind slipped back to her last year of uni, when she was chosen for an internship program at the Olympics. For two weeks she got to be a reporter, covering news conferences, editing packages and, of course, interviewing athletes. One interview that stood out in her mind took place just after Australia won the four by 100-metre women’s swimming relay. The whole venue had gone mad. It had been a massively close race, with the Australian team just beating the favourites. The pool was still buzzing well after the race as the girls headed for the changing rooms at the far end of the pool.
Lucy remembered how nervous she had been as the team approached the media enclosure. As the girls came nearer, Lucy hung over the barricade on the poolside, microphone at the ready, calling out their names. But the team bounced straight past and stopped to talk to a more famous news reporter. She listened as they gushed over their unexpected win – excited, ecstatic even, but still modest. No wonder everyone loved them. Lucy stood by, smiling, even though she’d missed the interview. She was too happy for the team to be sorry for herself.
One of the girls, Cindy Ho, the youngest and least well known, glanced around the crowd, waving to spectators, until her eyes settled on Lucy. Then, quite unexpectedly, she broke away from her teammates and, possibly because she saw Lucy as some kind of ethnically kindred spirit, Ho came to talk to her.
Lucy had been so shocked she immediately forgot all of her carefully prepared questions and became completely tonguetied. It was several seconds before she managed to get it together and ask the swimmer: How do you feel? It was hardly an earth-shattering start, but Cindy Ho opened up about what it was like to be representing her country. She was weeping with pride, and then sadness, because she’d just lost her mother to
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