March 14th 2016

When I conceived this idea, my female character's name came to me pretty quickly. It was always going to be Sophie. It's very rare that I stick to my first choice character names, but I love it. It's one of those names that I'd love to give to my daughter (when/if I have one) but because of my culture/ country/ heritage, I won't be able to have it. (This, by the way, is how most of my character's names come about.)

Anyway, Sophie was the only choice because I love how it's pronounced in French- see video above. (My BF says there's no difference between the English pronunciation and the French, but I think there is! Our argument is the basis for part of this update.)

Tatler is a 'society' magazine/ journal/ publication in the UK- with some versions across the world. I'm not sure if the US has it, though. I think that's really the only 'Brit' thing to explain. (Likewise, GQ, Vanity Fair and Vogue are all publications.) Enjoy!

Sarah, xx

~*~*~

"I've literally just power walked out of my morning meeting because I have some bad news for you. Or, it could be good news. It depends on your view point."

"Does this news, either bad or good, pertain to you or to me?"

"Mainly you but I like to make everything about me, so it's a little about me, too."

"Whoa, Soph. Steal my thunder, why don't you. What's the news?"

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"I'm sitting down, if that helps."

"Haha, that's good to hear. Ok, news number one. Our friendship is kinda out of the bag. People know that we're friends. At least, the socialites all know and considering Vogue comes under the same company as does Vanity Fair, Tatler and GQ, gossip spreads like a STD between the staff. So, yeah. Cat's out of the bag."

"Gossip spreads like a STD?"

"Maybe even quicker."

"Was that the good news or the bad news?"

"The bad."

"And the good news would be, what, exactly?"

"How many times have you been asked to partake in an interview with Tatler for their Little Black Book edition?"

"Too many times to keep a track of... why?"

"Well, here's the thing- and it's only now that I'm starting to think that this is the bad news, not the good news- but... my editor wants me to kinda, maybe, definitely exploit my connection to you to bag a tell all interview with you, as well as a day shadowing you, so that she can one-up her rivals over at Tatler."

"..."

"You can totally say no, of course. In fact, please say no because then I'd feel-"

"Will it be you interviewing me?"

"Um... yes?"

"And, naturally, because your new job in New York starts in three weeks, you'll need to interview me before you leave, yes?"

"That would be best, but like I said-"

"Give me a date and time. Or if you just want to turn up at the office, I'll get Evelyn to send you my work address."

"Hold on, you're actually considering this?"

"No. I'm pretty much agreeing to it."

"Ha... Why? I mean... you've turned down loads of interview opportunities before, why agree to this one?"

"Do you really need to ask, Sophie?"

"Apparently."

"You're an idiot."

"Hey!"

"What? You are!"

"You know you're talking to the woman who is going to be writing a tell all about you, right? I can spin you in a negative light, if I so wished."

"You could, but you won't."

"You're very sure of yourself over there, Whitaker."

"Always, Clément."

"Why do you always call me Clément? You know you can call me Delaney. It would be more correct."

"Yeah, but Clément is so much more exotic sounding, especially now that I've mastered getting my tongue around the French accent where your name is concerned."

"Oh, you have an accent now, do ya?"

"Yes, listen and tell me which sounds better, ok?"

"Ok."

"Soph-ee Delaney."

"And the next?"

"Sof-fee Clément."

"I'm gonna be honest with you and say- there really was no difference between them, apart from the obvious last name change. Sorry."

"Wait, there was a difference. Soph-ee and Sof-fee. See?"

"No, still sounds like you're just saying Sophie twice."

"There's a difference. Your untrained ear can't pick up on it, that's all."

"I'm sure that's what it is."

"So, what type of things are you going to want to know about for the article?"

"Stuff."

"Like?"

"Family, education, career, relationships, future, your feelings about being aristocratic-"

"Whoa! There is no way on God's green Earth that I'm sitting down to talk to you if you throw around words like 'aristocratic.' That's a deal breaker, right there!"

"But, Daniel, you have a title, a large family pile and a family crest going back centuries. You are an aristocr-"

"No!"

"Fine, I'll stop using the word. So damn touchy."

"Yeah, well... how would you like it if your life was determined for you just because of a fluke at birth?"

"I might not have a title, like Earl or Duke-"

"Technically, you'd be a Countess or a Duchess."

"Thanks. But, I have neither title. What I do have is my paternal family's legacy on one side and my maternal family's legacy on the other. You might not think it's much, but whereas you're only known in High Society, I'm known in all circles. If I'm Sophie Delaney, I'm always known as Jimmy's daughter. And if I'm Sophie Clément, I'm known as fille de Camille. I'd have to completely change my name to go under the radar."

"Or, you could just not move in those circles any more."

"Really? It's not that easy, Daniel."

"How about a compromise? You can use the term 'aristocratic' a maximum of three times in the entire article, but no more."

"Deal."

"Good. What else do I need to know about this thing, then?"

"Not much. I'll shadow you, ask a few questions, look for your deepest, darkest secrets so that I can expose them..."

"Ah, the skeletons in the closet. Well, unfortunately for you, they're so well hidden, you're more likely to end up in Narnia than discover any dirt on me, sweetheart."

"I bet there's at least one really juicy tit-bit that I can squeeze out of you. An exclusive, perhaps."

"That depends."

"On?"

"What do I get out of giving you an exclusive?"

"My eternal gratitude?"

"I was thinking something else."

"Like?"

"An IOU."

"I hate 'I Owe Yous.'"

"Have fun in Narnia, then."

"Ah, fine! Name it."

"I will. Closer to the time."

"This is going to hover over me like a bad smell, isn't it?"

"Gee, Sophie, you make it sound like I'm going to ask you to help me bury the dead body."

"You never know!"

"You are something else entirely, you know that?"

"Thanks!"

"That wasn't intended as a compliment."

"Meh."

"You sound like a sheep."

"Want to hear a joke about sheep?"

"No."

"What do you call-"

"Did you not hear me? I don't want to hear your joke about sheep."

"I heard you, but I chose to ignore you. Now- what do you call a sheep with no legs?"

"A cloud?"

"You couldn't even let me get to the punch line?!"

"To be fair, that was a terrible joke."

"Well, I thought it was genius."

"I- you- how are we friends?"

"Because you love me."

"Yeah, there's that."

"Haha. How do you feel about photo shoots?"

"A what shoot?"

"A photo shoot."

"Like, getting dressed up and having my photo taken?"

"There are other things involve, but let's keep it simple."

"Must I?"

"Part and parcel of the interview, I'm afraid."

"Then, sign me up. You'll be there for that, won't you?"

"Who else is going to dress you?"

"I'm regretting agreeing to this interview already."

"Don't. It'll be fun! You get to hang out with me for an entire day! You've done it before, you can do it again."

"At least there won't be any human bones this time."

"Shoot! There goes my Hamlet idea for the photo shoot."

"Ha bloody ha."

"I was serious."

"Deal breaker number two for this interview and photo shoot- no bloody human bones! No fake bones, either. No bones in general."

"Watching the TV show Bones must be horrendous for you, huh?"

"Not that I watch it, but I would imagine that it would be."

"Haha, ok, werido. Well, I better get back to work and let my editor know that you've agreed to this thing. Just to warn you though- you know the 'cat out of the bag' thing? Once my editor rubs this in Tatler's face, your name and mine are going to be linked in the society pages. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes."

"Please consider it a little more, Daniel. They're going to drag up everything about you, about me... us. Everything. I'm going to look like a major slut and they're going to ridicule you because of Arabella and Samuel and-"

"I'm going to stop you there. I can handle the ridicule. I don't care what people know about me. I'll get to set it all straight in the interview with you, anyway."

"I suppose-"

"And secondly- or this should really have been the first point but... Sophie, never call yourself a slut again. Not in front of me. You know the truth about you, I know the truth about me. Whatever everyone else says is bullshit. And that, darling, can be a direct quote. On record."

"Oh, crap. I'm actually going to have to write nice things about you, aren't I?"

"Haha... maybe you'll learn something scandalous about me and then you can use that to make me look like a bad boy."

"Not possible."

"We'll see."

"I guess we shall. So, I'm good to go and tell my boss that this is happening?"

"What do I have to lose?"

"Your dignity?"

"Not if you're writing it. Let's do this shit!"

"Haha! Man, you're too damn amazing, Daniel Whitaker."

"You're not so bad yourself, Sof-fee Clément."

"That accent wasn't half bad."

"Thanks, I practised."

"I better go. Laters, alligator."

"In a while, crocodile."