was arranged at very short notice, however I work in the lifestyle department, my clients include a soft furnishing company, a coffee company, a chain of cheese shops and a boutique hotel group. I’m more than qualified to manage your account. My boss, who is out at meetings all day today (I mentally crossed my fingers) felt I would be the best person to talk to you.’ And not the most promotion hungry.
‘I didn’t give you much time to prepare, but you seem to have coped well. And you didn’t bombard me with emails with lots of questions.’ He looked around the room. I knew he was looking for the projector and laptop.
I put my hand up as if to halt his flow. ‘I’ll be honest. I haven’t prepared anything. Not because there wasn’t time but because I felt you’re the expert and you would know what you want. I know you’ve seen several different agencies, all top ones in their field. And all will have come up with brilliant ideas, but you clearly didn’t like any of them.
‘I figured it was easier to talk to you to find out what you’re looking for. The orthodox response didn’t sound as if it was going to help.’
Lars grinned and stood up to pace the room, his hands behind his back. ‘I like you, Kate Sinclair and I like the way you think. We Danes prefer a gentle approach. And already I can see you have a grasp of the mindset of hygge.’ When he said it, hygge sounded much less threatening New Zealand Hakka and a lot more appealing.
‘That’s kind of you to say, but I think I’ve got a long way to go. You should see where I live.’
‘Exactly,’ interjected Lars. ‘Every agency wanted to tell us what it was. It’s indefinable and means different things to different people. When it’s right it’s right. I’ve sat through so many presentations. If I hear about one more give-away promotion of instant hygge, hygge make-overs and hygge holiday breaks, I’m going to melt down every last candle in the UK.
‘The agencies we’ve seen have been too … It’s difficult to put into words. They were too,’ he shrugged again. He looked around at the room, smiling with a nod towards the candles. ‘Clinical and business-like. This. This, you’ve got it exactly right.’
I nodded and let him carry on.
‘Our store, Hjem, will be about much, much more than candles and blankets and products to buy, which is what everyone seems to think hygge is about. I want people to feel it throughout every department of the store, to spend time in the store, in the book department, in the cookery department. There’ll be displays, corners to sit in, demonstrations in flower arranging, cookery, card making, knitting classes, making Christmas decorations. It’s going to be a vibrant community as well as a department store.’
‘It sounds interesting,’ I said, wondering how the hell that was going to translate into a public relations campaign.
‘But it is important that people understand about hygge.’
I nodded. It sounded a tad ephemeral to me.
‘So I would like to take some people to Copenhagen and show them a flavour of how the Danes live and how our society works, so that they can really appreciate hygge.’
‘That’s a great idea,’ I said, blithely thinking that a trip to Denmark would be rather nice and how charming and warm Lars was.
‘You see Kate, that’s why I knew you were the right person for the job. Every other agency has said it would be too difficult, that people wouldn’t want to go to Denmark for more than a night. I think we’re going to work well together.’
‘We are?’ Was he offering me his business?
‘Yes, I’ve looked at all these agencies and what I was searching for was the right fit. You are the right fit. I like the way you think.’
‘So, I’d like to get started straight away. Do you think you could draw up a list of six journalists?’
‘Six journalists?’ I asked.
‘Yes, for taking the trip to Denmark. I think five days would be just the right length.’
When he said people, he hadn’t mentioned that those people had to be journalists. ‘Six journalists. Five days,’ I echoed.
He nodded approvingly. ‘Perfect. In five days we can show them the finest things Copenhagen has to offer and teach them all about hygge and I know just the person to help.’
Oh hell. No wonder the other agencies had fallen out with him. I knew from past experience that it was hard enough persuading journalists to turn up to things in London for one evening, let alone commit to a five-day trip abroad. If I managed this, it’d be a miracle. What had I done?
You lucky cow. Connie’s message popped up as I was putting the finishing touches to a press list, a week later. I scribbled a few more notes before picking up my phone to text back.
I’ll bring you back some Lego.
Or you could take me too. I could pretend to be the Gazette’s travel correspondent. Who’d know?
If I get really desperate I’ll let you know.
I was still buzzing from exceeding everyone’s expectations and winning the pitch. Now all I had to do was find six journalists to go on the trip. Easier said than done. I got full honours mentions in the despatches at the Friday meeting and this time I did practise my modest, shucks-it-was-no-big-thing, Oscar winner’s acceptance look - with an additional helping of take that Josh Delaney.
The bastard gave me a mocking salute of well done. It might even have been touched with reluctant admiration. Although he got his own back in our very first meeting with Lars after I’d won the business. When I’d run through the proposed list of journalists for the trip, he just had to say something. He couldn’t resist showing off his knowledge. ‘Have you thought about approaching the Sunday Inquirer, Kate? They have double circulation of the Courier. Benedict Johnson is the new lifestyle editor there.’
Normally correspondents move from paper to paper, magazine to magazine and I would have come across them before. This guy’s name didn’t ring any bells. Trust bloody Josh to be one step ahead.
‘I’ll speak to him and see what he says,’ I said with a gracious smile at Josh. Still up to his rat-weasel tricks then.
‘Can I speak to Benedict Johnson, please?’ I’d put on my best friendly, perky voice.
‘Speaking.’ He sounded a little terse but it was difficult to tell in one word.
‘Hi, I’m Kate Sinclair from The Machin Agency. I’m–’
‘You’ve got five seconds.’ No mistaking the cynical hostility in those words.
‘Pardon.’ Shocked, I couldn’t quite believe that he’d said that.
‘Four.’
What I should have done was tell him to go do something anatomically impossible, but I was so taken aback and flustered, I went for the four second pitch.
‘I’m calling to find out if you’d be interested in coming on a press trip to Copenhagen to find out why the Danish have been cited as the happiest nation in the world. It would be a week-long trip that would take in a variety of destinations as well as a visit to the Danish Institute of Happiness.’
‘No.’ And then he put the phone down on me. I took the hand-piece away from my ear and looked at it disbelievingly. Rude sod.
I slammed the phone down. What an arrogant prick. Who the hell did he think he was? Where did he get off being so rude to people?
I redialled his number.
‘Are