5. Casey, London

Milky coffee spills from the spout of my takeaway cup as I burst through the gallery doors. It's Friday morning and I didn't get to bed until after midnight because Eva insisted that we finalise the reception seating arrangements, which meant her sorting it while I lazed on the sofa watching telly, giving ‘uh-huh' and ‘whatever you think' replies. Whenever I tried to sneak off to bed, she'd fetch me tea and chocolate hobnobs then massage my tense shoulders, and I'd cave and stay put.

‘Oh, Casey, there you are,' Michaela says from behind the counter.

‘Sorry I'm late,' I say, rushing past.

‘Your ten-thirty's postponed,' she calls after me.

I walk back to the counter. ‘You're jokin' me?'

Michaela shakes her head. ‘She was struck by a sudden burst of creativity and couldn't … hang on, I wrote it down.' She shuffles about the desk and holds up a Post-it. ‘"Break the flow of divine creativity", so she'll be here around two.'

I lower my voice so a couple on the far side of the gallery don't overhear. ‘Fuck's sake. Again? This is the third time she's cancelled.'

‘Postponed,' Michaela corrects me.

‘And this divine flow's going to stop in time to get here for two from Sussex? Remind me why we want this artist?'

Michaela wrinkles her nose. ‘Making waves in the art world with her fresh perspectives on social justice?'

I sigh. ‘Right. I've got heaps of other stuff to do anyway, but I swear if she does this again she's out of the exhibition. We don't have time to be messed about.' I stride off across the gallery floor.

‘And Josanne's looking for you!'

I acknowledge Michaela's comment with a wave and head for the staff access door in the far corner, swiping myself in. My office is a tiny, windowless room at the back of the gallery, but it means I don't have to squeeze into the open-plan area with four other people. It's painted a crisp white to give the illusion of space. On the wall to the left of my desk is a large oil painting of a pristine beach in the north of Jamaica, close to Montego Bay, where my paternal grandmother is from. A single palm tree leans towards the ocean, shading a section of sand. One of our regular artists, who specialises in depth perception, gifted it to the gallery after discovering she and my grandmother were from the same town. Whenever work is stressful, I disappear into the translucent turquoise sea and pure white sands, imagining sun and salt on my skin, gazing up at the silky blue sky. It always calms me and puts everything into perspective.

I dump my bag, take a swig of coffee and fire up my laptop.

Within seconds, my boss strolls in. ‘Morning, Casey.'

‘Hiya, Josanne. Sorry if you were chasing me.'

She waves away my apology. ‘It's not a problem.' She sits and crosses her legs, smoothing her floral dress over her knees.

My eyes flick up from my screen, curious about why she's settling in.

‘So, I know you've got a lot going on at the mo…' She winces.

‘Not more work for today,' I groan.

‘Not today, no. But I do need you to help out with the Berlin exhibition.'

‘Berlin?' I lean back in my chair. ‘I'm already helping.'

‘I mean, more hands-on. As of this morning, they're down two staff with illness. Felix is in an absolute tizz trying to sort it on his own.'

‘Well, I'll be there for the opening. S'pose I could go the night before.'

‘You'd probably need to go earlier than that. Be there for a couple of days.' She pauses. ‘A week, max.'

‘Oh. You want me to go there to work?'

She fiddles with the bright pink beads hanging low on her chest. ‘You helped curate it, so you're more across it than the rest of us.'

‘Um…'

Her dark eyebrows draw together. ‘I thought you'd jump at the opportunity. You normally like going over there.'

‘I do. It's just that I need to crack on with our winter exhibition. The artists have to be firmed up in the next few weeks and?—'

‘Delaying a week won't hurt, and Michaela can help out in your absence.'

‘It's, erm…' I search my brain for another excuse. ‘It's the wedding. Eva's got us doing all sorts every night.'

The truth is I love the Berlin gallery, and the Queer Perspectives show we've curated is incredible, plus it'd be a chance to see my aunt and uncle, but Berlin in August has a strange effect on me. A couple of years before I met Eva, I went there in August and found myself sitting under that damn tree in Monbijoupark, as though doing so would magically throw me back in time and reverse my idiotic decision to cut ties with Holly. I ended up crying for an hour and breaking it off with my girlfriend at the time because my feelings for her didn't come close to what I felt for Holly. And right now, with all this confusion about Eva and the wedding, it's best I fly in, attend the opening and come straight home.

‘Ah, the wedding, of course.' Josanne presses her lips together, her disappointment palpable.

‘And it's my dad's birthday that week,' I quickly add. ‘We always go to Carnival…'

She stands. ‘Okay, well, I don't want to put pressure on you when you have a lot going on. You were my first choice because our Berlin gallery was the main reason you came to work here.'

I narrow my eyes at her because she's trying it on. ‘One of the reasons – you're the main reason.' I loved that this gallery had a Black female director who transformed it from a failing, stale art house to a thriving contemporary gallery that champions diversity in all forms, supports artists of colour and exhibits progressive works of art in all mediums. The fact that it had a collaboration with a Berlin gallery was a bonus.

She grins. ‘Sucking up will get you very far in your career.'

I laugh.

‘Have a think about it over the weekend. I don't want to ruin your dad's birthday if you have plans or get in the way of the wedding, but it would be good to send someone to help them out. You're the best person, but if you can't go, you can't go.'

Telling me to take the weekend to think about it is Josanne's way of saying she needs me to do this. What she's not saying is that I'm head of exhibitions, which means I sometimes need to fulfil that role in both galleries.

‘Let me check what I've got on here for the next couple of weeks and chat to Eva and my dad. Let you know by Monday?'

She beams. ‘You're a star. I knew you wouldn't let me down.'

‘Oh, I haven't decided?—'

But she's already left my office.