Firstly, she’s not that old. And she has plenty to occupy her; she’s working hard and making a success of herself. Also, what do you mean by frustrations? Because if you’re thinking she’s somehow unfulfilled either in herself or in her opinion of me and my life, then you’re wrong. Secondly, I was upset and unstable but at least I’m trying to be better. I might not be a premium kind of person just yet but I am slowly coming in to land.

Jenny

ASS FIZZ

I get into the Foof office and there is a balloon tied to my chair. The balloon is in the shape of a huge fist.

‘This is to celebrate the number of hits you’re getting!’ says Mia. ‘Your column is the top read on the site, you little fuckwit!’

‘I chose the fist,’ says Vivienne.

Mia merrily whacks me about the head a few times with the balloon.

‘Ow.’

‘Excuse me but I am JUST SO GRATEFUL AND PLEASED FOR YOU.’

‘I appreciate it but please could you stop that now.’

‘Here,’ says Mia, pulling up her phone on the cord around her neck. ‘A photo. For the Foof feed. This is a celebration.’

There is a collective gasp. No one ever gets put on the Foof feed unless they are an extremely attractive intern or a celebrity.

‘Come on,’ hustles Mia. Vivienne and a few others shuffle into the shot.

‘I’m not going at the front,’ says Vivienne.

‘I’m not going at the front,’ I say, ‘especially if you’re going to tag me.’

‘Fucking hell,’ says Mia. ‘Rita-Kathleen, get the clutch drone!’

Mia’s assistant runs off to her office and seconds later, the clutch drone buzzes in. it circles us, taking pictures as we all pose. Vivienne is a sharp poser. I get elbowed and kneed out of position by her several times. For the last shot, she has her leg up on the desk.

‘Amazing,’ says Mia, looking at the pictures on her phone. ‘Well done, Jenny.’

‘Thank you. This is … very unexpected.’

‘In fact, your success is so epic,’ Mia says, ‘you have inspired me to take a sabbatical and write a memoir.’

‘Spare us,’ says Vivienne.

‘So I might need you to deputise under Vivienne for a while. Which will mean a pay rise.’

‘Don’t count on it,’ says Vivienne. ‘Bitch needs diamonds.’

‘A memoir about what?’ I ask Mia.

‘Well, about … me.’

‘Is that … enough?’

Mia comes close and puts a hand on my shoulder. She stares deeply into my eyes. ‘You are enough, ginge, and the sooner you start believing that, the better. Your friend Kelly obviously thinks you’re worth something. She came to see me and Vivienne and read us the riot act. Said we’re not looking after you and should give you compassionate leave.’

‘Compassionate leave? For what?’