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Back When Life Gives You Lemons Save as PDF
Chapters (54)
  1. Cover
  2. WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU LEMONS
  3. Dedication
  4. Part One
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. Chapter Four
  9. Chapter Five
  10. Chapter Six
  11. Chapter Seven
  12. Chapter Eight
  13. Part Two
  14. Chapter Nine
  15. Chapter Ten
  16. Chapter Eleven
  17. Chapter Twelve
  18. Chapter Thirteen
  19. Chapter Fourteen
  20. Chapter Fifteen
  21. Chapter Sixteen
  22. Chapter Seventeen
  23. Chapter Eighteen
  24. Chapter Nineteen
  25. Chapter Twenty
  26. Part Three
  27. Chapter Twenty-One
  28. Chapter Twenty-Two
  29. Chapter Twenty-Three
  30. Chapter Twenty-Four
  31. Chapter Twenty-Five
  32. Chapter Twenty-Six
  33. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  34. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  35. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  36. Part Four
  37. Chapter Thirty
  38. Chapter Thirty-One
  39. Chapter Thirty-Two
  40. Chapter Thirty-Three
  41. Chapter Thirty-Four
  42. Chapter Thirty-Five
  43. Chapter Thirty-Six
  44. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  45. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  46. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  47. Chapter Forty
  48. Chapter Forty-One
  49. Chapter Forty-Two
  50. Acknowledgements
  51. Keep Reading …
  52. About the Author
  53. By the same author:
  54. About the Publisher

Sometimes you take on a thing just for the love of it. You hurl yourself at it, despite the fact that your confidence has been battered and your boss takes you for granted and has you running around, researching the pillow quality at hotels all over the globe. You do it simply because you know it’ll be amazing – and because, if anyone can make it happen, it’s you.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Friday, September 6

Rose remarks that I am looking ‘jolly’ today. First hot, now jolly; I sound like an overworked clown.

‘Just feeling good,’ I say with a smile. Meanwhile, our workplace is a hive of activity. The air buzzes with drills and sanders and whiffs of fresh paint. The low boardroom is being transformed into an open-plan ‘space’ (not an office) where the Platforms for Innovation (now ‘PFIs’) will be based. It’s going to be beautifully designed, ultra-modern, with special fake ‘windows’, according to Jean, who seems to have her ear to the ground.

‘What d’you mean, fake windows?’ I ask over lunch.

‘They’re designed to look like windows,’ she replies, ‘with glass and a frame and everything, but there’s a special kind of daylight-type light behind them.’

‘As a way of un-basementing the basement? That’s clever!’

She nods. ‘The design guy who was here, he reckons young people regard natural light as pretty important.’

‘They’re so demanding,’ I chuckle, ‘with their avocado on toast and their fondness for being able to look out and see the sky.’ I finish my tuna salad. As part of the modernisation of Flaxico, the canteen now offers fresh greenery, the appearance of rocket causing almost as much of a stir around here as the rabbit food scandal.

It’s all positive, of course. I’m cracking on with my work and scheduling interviews, as Rose is focused on a rapid recruitment drive. Meanwhile my head is buzzing with the Girl Friday project, and the list of vintage stores I’ve started to compile, with a view to a mass mail-out to try and gauge how many original pieces are still out there in circulation. I started researching last night: the brand history, the key pieces, any associations with big-name models and celebs of the day. It was fascinating, and I ended up beavering away up until 2.45 a.m., boosted by Isla’s enthusiastic response to my text and her promise to show my proposal to the person who makes the decisions about temporary exhibitions. If that goes well – and I’m pretty certain it will – then the next step will be a face-to-face meeting.

So I’m sleep-deprived, yes, but also ‘jolly’. Perhaps all this excitement is even having the effect of magically balancing out my hormones. This morning, I didn’t even have to wring out my pyjamas.

Sunday, September 8