Melt. Lisa Walker

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СКАЧАТЬ her head on one side. ‘It could work. There’s a resemblance now I think about it.’ Her eyes assess me. ‘At a pinch. If you’re not looking closely.’

      ‘But I ca—’ I stop myself. ‘I don’t know anything about—’

      Maxine snaps her fingers at Steve, the publicity guy. ‘Photoshop her.’

      ‘Huh?’ I say.

      But Steve pulls out his phone, snaps a photo of me, does something techo on the computer and within two minutes a photograph is projected on the screen. The image is the standard publicity shot of Cougar going over the waterfall. But instead of Cougar’s face, it is mine. I have my mouth half-open, caught in the middle of saying huh? I have Cougar’s hair and body. It’s a strange feeling, like getting an extreme makeover. And the weird part is, I do look a bit like Cougar.

      Maxine looks from the image back to me and her mouth turns up at the corner. ‘You’ve got the same nose.’

      She’s right. I’ve always hated my long nose. On Cougar though, it is striking and glamorous.

      Maxine clicks her pen in and out then waves her finger at Steve. ‘Put her in a snowsuit.’

      A couple of minutes later, there I am on the screen again, still with my mouth half-open, but now I’m wearing a puffy, red snowsuit, with the hood pulled up. Steve has split the screen, so the other side has Cougar wearing the same snowsuit.

      Everyone’s eyes flicker from one side of the screen to the other and I know I’m coming out of it badly. But … our lips are similar too. On Cougar, of course, they are luscious, not just thick.

      ‘Interesting,’ says Maxine. ‘The snowsuit hides a multitude of sins.’ She lays her hands on the table. ‘Okay, that’s our solution. Summer, you are Cougar.’

      Everyone at the table smiles with the relief of having dodged a bullet. Everyone except me.

      I gaze at Maxine. Don’t I get any say in this? Antarctica? I don’t want to go to Antarctica. My heart beats faster at the thought. Anything could happen in Antarctica. People die in blizzards and are devoured by starving huskies. ‘But Cougar has a PhD in glaciology. I don’t know anything about glaciers. Or about presenting.’

      ‘You’ve got two days to learn.’ Maxine sounds as if this is more than generous. ‘Okay, let’s move on. Fill us in on the coma scene for Up and at ’Em, Dianne …’

      Everyone relaxes from the rigid position they’ve assumed over the last few minutes – disaster has been averted. Dianne, her cheeks still flushed, gives a rapid run-down on the multiple-coma issue.

      I open and shut my mouth like a dying goldfish, but as far as the production team is concerned I am yesterday’s news.

      Chapter Seven

      My life becomes a string of spaghetti

      Project: Wednesday routine

      Objective: Become Cougar Gale

      6.00: Wake up

      6.00–7.00: Running

      7.00–10.00: Eat home-made muesli and watch old episodes of ‘In the Wild’

      10.00–11.00: Weight training

      11.00–12.00: Dye hair black and apply fake tan

      12.00–14.00: Buy outdoor clothing

      14.00–24:00: Study glaciology

      Total time: 18 hours

      On Wednesday morning I wake at six am. The meeting yesterday seems like a bad dream. It was as if the whole group was hypnotised by fear of Maxine. I’ve heard of that sort of thing happening before, but I’ve never experienced it. Group think, I believe it’s called when people make bad decisions in order to conform to social norms.

      Am I really about to impersonate Cougar Gale? I turn my head and bang my nose against something hard. Extreme Project Management is open on my pillow. I’d fallen asleep reading it last night. I now know extreme project management (XPM) is used to manage complex and uncertain projects. In contrast to traditional project management (TPM) it is open, elastic and non-deterministic. The book has a couple of helpful diagrams.

      TPM is like a waterfall

      XPM is like a string of spaghetti

      While my life bears more resemblance to a string of spaghetti than an orderly cascading waterfall, I suspect it is worse than that. My life is more tangled, like this:

      Opening my laptop, I check today’s objective – Become Cougar Gale. Ha.

      I can’t believe a table full of seemingly rational adults has agreed that no-one will notice if I turn up on TV in Cougar’s place. But I suppose it does happen in long-running soap operas when one of the actors leaves. The viewer knows that Charlene’s a little different today but after half an hour you forget there was ever another Charlene.

      Pulling on a T-shirt and shorts, I stagger out the door. It’s ridiculous to expect I’m going to transform my body into Cougar’s in one day; however, I must make some effort. I will pound the streets of Chatswood for an hour.

      I pound the streets of Chatswood for ten minutes before relapsing into a brisk walk, which soon becomes a stroll. It’s too hot for running. The sun, even filtered through a thin layer of smoke, is bitingly hot. It’s lucky I thought to stuff a twenty-dollar note inside the groovy armband that holds my phone. This armband was a present from Adrian. ‘You can listen to music and take calls while you run,’ he said. ‘And once you upgrade to a voice recognition phone, you’ll be able to send texts too.’ This sounded feasible, but if I was to send a text now it would be nothing but gasps and pants and I’d get booked for harassment.

      By six-thirty, I’m ensconced in a coffee shop with a double-shot latte and a muffin on order. I would have been there earlier, but the cafe only opens at six-thirty.

      My ten-minute run has illustrated how unsuited I am for this job. It’s ridiculous. I can’t go to Antarctica. I can’t impersonate Cougar. I’ll make a fool of myself if I’m not eaten by huskies first. Something weird happened in that meeting room yesterday but I’m sure they’ll have come to their senses by now.

      At nine o’clock I will go and see Maxine. I’ll be firm and assertive while avoiding can’t. Surely she will see reason. We can reschedule Cougar on Ice.

      On the TV in the corner a talking head presents The Morning Show. A graphic pops up on the screen showing little bushfire symbols across the state. I would leave, but I have food coming. Instead, I try to ignore the interview with a man in orange overalls. A few words penetrate – long, СКАЧАТЬ