Just As You Are. Kate Mathieson

roles in PR firms. But not one response.’ I was feeling quite dejected about that. ‘I keep getting told “you don’t have enough experience”, or “you don’t have the right experience”. All those long days working at Forster & Wolfe, as a PR Assistant, hasn’t helped me at all.’

      ‘Well, then, I’ve got some good news for you.’ She took a long sip of coffee. ‘Oh, God, caffeine, what would I do without it?’ She paused and closed her eyes. ‘Sorry, I just need to let this soak in. I got a total of three hours’ sleep last night. I’m like an eternal zombie.’ Tansy downed her coffee in three large gulps. ‘Anyway, it’s a favour.’

      ‘For me, or you, or someone else?’

      ‘For everyone possibly.’ Tansy got out her phone and started scrolling. ‘When I heard you were back in town, I put out some feelers, and, well, I may have mentioned you worked in PR in London.’ Tansy looked up at me. ‘Anyway, I talked to Jess and Mona, and they talked to Beattie, and she talked to a few other people.’

      When I looked blank, Tansy said, ‘Friends from my previous life, when I worked at Sony and Universal.’ Aha, I twigged. Tansy used to be a senior manager in marketing and sales, which meant we’d got a lot of red-carpet premiere tickets and stacks of free DVDs. We all missed those days a bit. ‘And they know someone, who knows someone else, who’s looking for a PR and events person.’

      I sat up straighter, and felt a tingle of excitement rush through my body. ‘I could do that.’

      I imagined travelling across Sydney, maybe even Australia. Putting on events, meeting clients, maybe they’d even let me draw the designs for an ad campaign, or an event invitation.

      Tansy nodded. ‘I know you could! Which is maybe why I told them you were really experienced.’

      ‘How experienced?’ I bit my lip.

      ‘Well, that you’d had a lot of international experience, and had run your own events before, and been a PR superstar really.’ She looked bashful. ‘I think I just got carried away, because I wanted you to find a job so you actually stayed in Sydney, rather than leaving us again.’ Her face looked crumpled and sad.

      ‘Oh, Tansy! I’m here to stay now. Promise.’ I gulped. ‘But I have nowhere near that experience.’

      Suddenly her face flushed with excitement. ‘I haven’t told you the best bit yet – the job is with Maker.’

      My heart thumped in my chest. Maker was the place to work. It was a swish multi-service PR and media, events, advertising and marketing firm, with a stellar reputation. They were known as creative, funky with a cool edge, and the one of the leading companies in Australia. People were excited about working at Maker, because it meant international job offers would literally drop at your feet. After a few years you could walk out of Maker and stride into a top job in New York, or London, or Italy.

      I paused. ‘Is there a reason they don’t want someone else, who’s actually amazing? I know you talked me up, but surely there are hundreds of people more qualified and dying to work at Maker?’

      ‘Ah,’ Tansy said. ‘Well, they need someone who wants to do the work, and doesn’t mind, ah, how do I put this? Being paid a nominal amount.’

      ‘You mean tiny.’

      She nodded. ‘I mean tiny.’

      ‘What exactly is that, in dollar figures?’

      ‘I’m not sure exactly, they wouldn’t let on, just they didn’t have the full budget to cover what they wanted, so they’re looking for someone who wants to get Maker on their CV, and doesn’t mind “getting dirty”. I take that to mean what it normally does in corporate speak, which is doing a LOT of work, long hours with bad pay. But it will work out in the end for you.’

      ‘It will work out in the end,’ I repeated her words, thinking that if I had Maker on my CV I could get a job anywhere after that. I could be in Paris again. Or Rome. Or London. Or even better – in just a few years I could create my own PR firm in a small town, and then paint on the weekends – yes! I could do this!

      ‘Of course, you’re going to have to apply, just like everyone else. But at least they know to look out for you, and I’m sure they’ll give you an interview,’ Tansy said, handing me a scrap of paper with Maker’s details.

      ‘But my CV? I mean, I don’t really have that experience,’ I worried.

      ‘Em, you’ve travelled around the world by yourself for almost a decade. I’m sure you can handle some press releases and putting on some events.’

      ‘True, but wouldn’t I be lying?’

      ‘Who doesn’t lie a little on their CV?’ She shrugged. ‘Isn’t that a given? No one believes in the honesty and integrity of CVs.’ She laughed loudly. ‘Now, here comes my lemon pie!’

      Right on cue, Brie dropped her dummy and started bawling as if a thousand ants had just bit her. Tansy had to abort the lemon pie mission because, instead of calming down, Brie got even louder, her red face now nearing a troubling shade of purple. Finally, Tansy picked Brie up in a wrestler-style grip, threw some money down on the counter, and waved as she stormed out – yelling, ‘Another time soon!’

      I think I must have had a horrified look on my face. I was sitting looking at an empty chair, and a lone little piece of lemon pie, knowing I’d have to eat it.

      She was halfway down the path when she yelled back, ‘And for God’s sake, apply for that job!’