The Men in her Life

said.
    ‘I’m not planning to go on any more boats,’ Holly told her, ‘I was so sick I left a trail all the way along the south coast...’
    ‘How is Simon?’ Clare asked.
    ‘Fine. The same as ever,’ Holly said, ‘good at cleaning up sick...’
    They stopped to look in the window of Vivienne’s shop.
    ‘I work here two afternoons a week,’ Clare told her, ‘and, over there,’ she pointed at Amelia’s tea shop, ‘I make the jam...’
    ‘How does that pay?’ Holly asked.
    She told her and Holly’s face contorted with disbelief.
    ‘I know,’ Clare said, ‘I’m quite looking forward to the minimum wage. It couldn’t be less than I earn... tell me about your job. I mean what do people actually do in Cannes , say?’
    ‘I didn’t go this year. It’s no good when you haven’t got a film in competition, or being launched, unless you’ve got something hot to sell. I love it, of course. I’m such a star-fucker, I still get a kick out of bumping into Robert De Niro, or more accurately, getting pushed out of the way by his bodyguards on the way back from the loo in the Majestic. It kind of makes you feel you know someone when you realize that they’ve had a slash only yards away from you.’
    Clare’s laughter pealed down the street.
    ‘Of course you do business, you talk up projects, you drink, you see, you’re seen. One of the weirdest things is it’s like the exact opposite of the Oscars, or something, because everyone is desperate to be as dressed-down as possible. It’s all T-shirts and shorts, and I had to buy a load of stuff when I first went, because I’d brought a suitcase full of cocktail dresses. Of course, the usual morals of society don’t apply. You get all these people thrown together and they party, and then they go back to normal...’
    ‘So what’s normal?’
    ‘A normal day? Lots of phone calls... if I’ve made a deal then drawing up the contract... reading, talking, I don’t know...’
    ‘But what do you actually do when you make a deal?’ Clare was curious.
    ‘Well, it starts with a client...’
    ‘But how do you get your clients?’
    ‘These days, they mostly approach me, but if I like somebody’s work, I pester them until it’s easier to say yes to me than to keep saying no. A lot of my screenwriters write books too, and they come to me through my colleagues in the agency...’
    ‘So then?’
    ‘Let me think of a good example... I’ve got this script just in which I read on the train down. It’s by Anji Johnson, you know, who wrote Single File ?’
    Clare’s face registered no recognition. How could anyone not have heard of Single File, Holly wondered, the bible of the single metropolitan woman? But Clare was neither single, nor metropolitan, she reminded herself.
    ‘Well, she’s quite famous, but she’s got no experience of writing full-length drama, but it is really good. Wish I’d had it before Cannes because I would have gone and got a buzz going... How do I sell it?’ Holly had never really thought about the process before. ‘I suppose I just talk a lot about it and try to get my enthusiasm across.’
    Clare suddenly understood how it worked. Holly’s enthusiasm was infectious, like laughter. When she talked about something she liked, there was an animated aura around her that was almost tangible. She had total belief in what she was selling and it made you believe her. Clare already wanted to read the script herself.
    ‘What’s it about?’ she asked.
    ‘It’s called The One. It’s about a woman in her thirties with four suitors. She sets them a kind of test to discover which is the One for her... it’s frothy, romantic fantasy stuff, same kind of area as My Best Friend’s Wedding. I haven’t shown it to my colleague in LA yet, but I expect we’ll be talking to the major studios...’
    ‘How exciting,’ Clare said, ‘sounds the perfect project for you because you love games, and tests and things...’
    Holly looked at her with great affection. They were from different worlds, and Clare had about as much idea about pitching a film proposal as Holly had about cooking a five-course meal, but she was interested, and supportive, and that made such a change from all the cynical people she normally associated with.
    ‘Was Joss the One?’ Holly suddenly asked her, ‘the man with your name written on?’
    ‘Oh yes...’ Clare said, ‘when I met him,’ she qualified.
    ‘But everyone’s the One when you first meet them,’ Holly