How to Get Ahead in Television by Sophie Cousens

alarmed to see how much traffic was zooming past on the main road.
    â€˜You should have reversed into the drive,’ Valerie said languorously. ‘It is much harder to do it this way.’
    â€˜Indeed.’
    I wondered how many questions could be answered with the word ‘indeed’? I prayed to the Road Gods and they came through for me: a small gap opened up just as the car lunged boot-first into the road.
    Just as everything was going so well, I realized I hadn’t reprogrammed the sat nav to take us to Carlisle. I couldn’t really do it while driving – Valerie might think it dangerous, so I’d have to ask her to do it.
    â€˜Ah, Ms Decouz. Apologies, do you mind entering a postcode into the sat nav for me?’
    Valerie turned to look at me, confused. ‘A what into the whom?’
    â€˜The onboard map.’ I pointed at the car’s control panel. ‘You just need to tap in the postcode and…’
    Valerie was looking at me as though I’d just asked her if she would kindly urinate all over the dashboard.
    â€˜You know what, I’ll pull over.’
    I pulled into a bus stop and tapped the postcode in myself. Nick stayed silent.
    â€˜You know what I would have done, if I were you?’ said Valerie.
    â€˜Um, huh.’ I made a non-committal noise.
    â€˜I would have practised this route on your own, before picking up passengers.’
    â€˜All the way to Scotland?’ I asked. Was she mad?
    â€˜At least the route out of London,’ said Valerie. ‘I was a runner many years ago, you know. 1975 it was. I would stay up well into the small hours preparing for the day ahead. That is the best advice I can give you: never start a task unprepared.’
    Pleased as I was that Valerie Decouz was deigning to give me career advice, I was a bit offended that she thought me unprepared.
    â€˜I would have done that, Ms Decouz, but I was only told about this job this morning.’
    A little cough came from Nick in the back seat.
    â€˜Excuses are easy, Poppy. I’ve heard many excuses in my forty years in the industry.’
    Another cough from Nick.
    I decided it might be better not to engage in a debate. I’d set the sat nav and we were off again. Valerie opened up her Filofax and started leafing through the pages methodically. I could hear Nick pretending to work in the back. I was not good with silence.
    â€˜Does anyone mind if I put the radio on?’ I asked.
    â€˜As long as it’s not too loud,’ said Valerie.
    I flicked through a few channels but they were all playing ‘Smack My Bitch Up’ or something equally inappropriate. I turned it off again.
    Before long, we reached the M1 junction, my first motorway. ‘Just merge into the lanes’, that’s what my driving instructor always said. ‘Keep up speed and merge, the cars next to you will move over.’ I kept it at a steady forty as we headed down the slipway onto the motorway. Shit, everyone was going so fast, there were so many cars. I was headed for the nearest lane but no one was moving over… I slowed down as there was no gap, then I sped up thinking maybe I could get ahead of that car… I quickly realized there was no room – no one was making room for me! I slammed on the brakes and verged onto the hard shoulder just as the slipway merged with the closest lane, bottling my ability to get out in time. Valerie was flung forward like a rag doll and made a strangled, squawking noise.
    â€˜Fucking hell!’ shouted Nick. ‘What the fuck, Poppy!’
    Cars behind me were blaring their horns, shouting obscenities from their windows as they passed.
    â€˜What on earth are you doing, girl?’ said Valerie, trying to get her breath back.
    I pulled the car over to the edge of the hard shoulder, my hands shaking on the wheel.
    â€˜I’m sorry, I haven’t driven on a motorway before and I didn’t think I could get out,’ I