‘Also good.’ God, this is so awkward. I sit down at my desk. ‘Did you get your script to Susan on Friday?’
Oh shit, why did I mention Friday? I don’t want either of us thinking about Friday.
‘Of course I did,’ says Art, still looking at his screen.
‘Great!’ I say. ‘So did I.’
I’ve got to pull myself together. I’ve got to focus on work today. But speaking of work …
‘Art?’ I say.
‘Yeah?’ He immediately looks up.
‘What are we meant to do now?’
There’s a deer-in-the-headlights expression on Art’s face as he runs a hand through his dark hair. ‘Um, I thought we both wanted to forget anything happened. But of course if you want to talk about it, we can talk about it—’
‘No!’ I exclaim. ‘Oh God, no. Sorry, I meant … with work. What are we meant to work on today?’
‘Oh right.’ Art looks mortified. ‘Sorry, yeah. Of course that’s what you meant.’
How does this conversation keep gettingmoreawkward? How is that even possible?
‘It’s just … at my interview they told me that while we were waiting for notes on our first draft we’d get started on our next episodes,’ I say. ‘But everything’s a mess now. You didn’t hear anything about our next episodes, did you?’
‘No,’ says Art.
‘So you don’t know what we’re meant to be doing now?’
‘I certainly don’t,’ says Art.
I can’t bear this a moment longer. ‘Okay, I need a decent coffee from the canteen. Do you want anything?’
‘No, thank you,’ says Art, as if he’s talking to a stranger.
Although I had planned to head straight back to the office, cowardice overcomes me and I stay in the canteen, making the coffee last as long as possible. But I can’t put off returning to Art forever. When I finally drag myself back, he’s not alone.
‘Hi, Annie,’ says Susan. ‘I was telling Art what a good job you both did on your first drafts.’
‘Oh!’ I say. ‘Wow, thanks. That’s great to hear.’
‘But obviously there’s a lot more work to do.’
I was expecting this. ‘Obviously.’
‘So,’ says Susan, ‘I’ll add my notes to your script by the end of the day. You’ll have until the end of the week to write your second drafts. Then you’ll get notes on those drafts from Bernard.’
My stomach sinks at the thought of Bernard tearing into my script.
‘Look, I know this isn’t the ideal way to start this job.’ Susan sounds genuinely sympathetic. ‘This isn’t even being dropped in at the deep end – you’ve been dropped in the middle of the ocean. But I trust you can do it.’
‘Thanks, Susan,’ says Art, with all his old confidence. ‘We can.’
‘So what’ll we do for the rest of today?’ I ask. ‘Should we get started on the scripts that were meant to be our first episodes? The ones that are airing in September?’
‘Unfortunately, Amanda and Joe were in a couple of September stories and the story team are still reworking those eps,’ says Susan. ‘So you might as well go home. Unless you’d rather stay here?’
‘No,’ says Art immediately. ‘Home is fine.’