LITMIR.BIZ

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      his is why it always pays to prepare.

      With just seventy-three seconds to spare, I quickly spread out my picnic blanket and distribute the JINTH branded plastic cups and paper plates; hang bunting from the overhead tree – one letter on each flag – and slot my iPod with carefully selected playlist into the speakers.

      Skilfully, I set out Monopoly and do my best to ignore a young couple wandering past: giggling, holding hands and snuggled up inside the boy’s coat.

      It’s not that cold.

      By the time I hear footsteps on the path, I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be.

      Which, for the record, is very ready.

      “No way,” Nat’s saying loudly. “Christopher and Ananya are going out?”

      “Right?” India’s voice is clear as a bell. “Christopher. The dude still thinks he’s Hamlet, for God’s sake. He turned up to their first date wearing a freaking beret.”

      “Ugh. He kissed me once, you know. I nearly removed his lips for him.”

      “Connecting at the mouth actually helps humans to exchange unconscious biological information about each other. He was probably just trying to work out if your immune system was different from his.”

      I can’t see them yet, but that’s obviously Toby.

      “Look at that orange and red sky. It looks like something from a Turner painting.”

      And that’s Jasper.

      “Well,” Nat continues sharply. Come on come on come on hurry up … “After what happened last year, I think they probably deserve each oth—”

      They finally reach the opening to the park. My goodness, they walk slowly.

      That took forever.

      “Tada!” I shout in excitement, jumping up with my arms spread out and my hands waving. “Welcome to Picnic JINTH, friends! Come over! Settle down! We have everything your hearts could possibly desire!”

      There’s a stunned silence.

      “Look!” I prompt, dragging India and Nat by the hand towards the blanket. “I made a special Scrabble game! We can only use J, I, N, T, H and the rest of the vowels, but you’d be shocked at how many options there are.”

      “AUNTIE and ATONE are just two of them,” Toby says, sitting on the blanket.

      “We also have JINTH napkins!” I say, pulling them out in a triumphant fan shape.

      “Genius!” Toby shouts, clapping his hands.

      “And JINTH biscuits!”

      “Visionary!”

      OK, I need someone other than Toby to be impressed now: India, Jasper and Nat are still staring at the blanket in silence.

      “Sit down!” I say quickly, gesturing. “Make yourselves at home! Eat! Drink! Be Happy!”

      I’m starting to sound like a novelty tea towel.

      “Blimey, Harriet,” Jasper says, running a hand through his hair and lowering himself on to the floor. “You don’t do things by halves, do you.”

      “This is … above and beyond,” India says, pulling out a plastic carrier bag. “I brought … uh. Three quarters of a pack of Jammie Dodgers.”

      She slides them on to a plate in obvious embarrassment.

      “There was really no need for this, Harriet,” Nat says gently, perching down and offering a small packet of cheese straws.

      “Don’t be silly!” I say cheerfully, handing out cups of lemonade. “We can share, that’s what a team does! Now, sit down and relax. What were you just saying about Christopher? Oh my goodness, remember that time we were on stage together and Alexa …”

      My pocket suddenly starts vibrating.

      A fraction of a second later, Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo starts playing.

      “Uh,” I continue smoothly when it stops ten seconds later, clearing my throat, “when Alexa started playing animal noises and—”

      The Fairy Godmother tune starts again.

      Jasper, India and Nat are staring curiously at my pocket. Toby’s blowing on his little Monopoly dog and rubbing it on his jumper sleeve.

      “You should answer your phone, Harriet,” India says finally.

      “Yup,” Jasper says with arched eyebrows. “It might be a little old lady in a blue hooded cloak with a wand, a pumpkin and a couple of lizards.”

      I swallow. Please no.

      Not now. Literally any other time you like: just not now.

      Raising my eyes to the skies, I send a silent, furtive prayer out into the Universe, grab my phone and turn the other way. “Hello, Wilbur?”

      The Universe clearly wasn’t listening.

      “Prepare the unicorns, bunny. It’s time.”

      

      ime doesn’t actually exist.

      Even a second isn’t what we think it is: it’s officially the duration of 9,192,631,770 periods of the radiation corresponding to the transition between the two hyperfine levels of the ground state of the caesium-133 atom.

      And unicorns aren’t exactly roaming the streets either, so technically Wilbur is making no sense whatsoever.

      But I know exactly what he means.

      I just can’t quite bring myself to believe it.

      I stare at my beautiful team picnic, heart sinking. “Th-there’s a job this evening?”

      “No, a big casting in London.” I can barely hear Wilbur over the clattering noise in the background. “I only just found out, olive-pip, but if you leave right away you can make it.”

      I glance back at my friends, now peeling open the sandwiches and peering curiously at their contents. “And there’s no way we can postpone?”

      “I’m afraid not, monkey.” The noise in the background is getting even louder. “They’re sending the details over, so I’ll email them straight through.”

      In a panic, I quickly race through my options.

      There aren’t any.

      I made a promise to Wilbur that I’d help out with his new agency, and I should stick to it: regardless of how little I actually want to. I start dejectedly buckling my satchel back up.

      What were the chances of this happening?

      One in 228, that’s what.

      I’ve been modelling for fifteen months – 547 days –and in that time I’ve done just two official castings. One with Yuka and one with an American magazine. I had a statistically higher chance of winning a cash prize with Premium Bonds than getting this call right now.

      Maybe I should think about investing.

      “Sure,” I sigh, standing up. “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

      “Just remember your book, poppet. That’s super important.”

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