by Kiki Archer
Pippa laughed. “Why? Are my cheeks red?”
Andi looked up at Pippa’s flushed appearance. “You’re not embarrassed are you? I’m so sorry, we’ve never done this before have we? Stella used to have to hoist me into some of my outfits. I should have checked if you were comfortable with this.”
Pippa started to dust off the black polo neck jumper that she had lifted up in preparation for Andi. “Of course I’m fine! Don’t be silly. It’s not like I’ve not seen a super fit, scantily clad body before.” She coughed. “Admittedly it’s been a while.”
Andi stood up and pulled the tights neatly around her waist. “I’m nearly thirty. There’s nothing to look at here. We need to fix you up with someone. My friend Ruth will be there on Saturday. She’s lovely. I’ll introduce you.”
Pippa continued to flatten the black jumper. “No, no it’s fi-” She stopped as her chunky ring snagged a piece of the fabric. She quickly glanced up at Andi who was too busy pulling on her skirt to notice. Pippa quickly unattached the piece of black cotton and hung the jumper on the back of Andi’s chair. “It’s fine. I’ll probably bring Jayney.”
“Don’t you dare,” said Andi, reaching for the jumper and working her arms into the sleeves.
Pippa couldn’t help but notice the way Andi’s defined stomach muscles rippled with the action. “Do you need a hand getting it over your head?”
“Please,” said Andi, glancing at the clock above the door.
Pippa stepped forwards and took hold of the neck of the jumper, easing it open with two hands. She made the hole as wide as possible before lifting it above Andi’s head. “Okay, it’s coming over.”
Andi kept her head still as Pippa eased on the jumper. Andi pulled it into position and looked at her PA. “Very delicately done. Thank you.”
“No problem,” smiled Pippa, stepping backwards and feeling herself flush once again.
Andi reached for the suit jacket and slid it over her shoulders, turning around to check herself in the mirror. “All done. Perfect, thank you.” She paused and leaned in closer. “Hang on, there’s a loose thread.” Andi looked down at her chest and wrapped the piece of black cotton around her index finger. She gave a sharp tug, aghast at the sudden hole that appeared just above her cleavage. “Bugger, bugger, bugger! Look what I’ve done!” She checked the clock once again and eyed the hole in the mirror. “Is it noticeable?”
Pippa couldn’t lie. “Yes. You can see your skin.” She reached into the suit bag for Andi’s old shirt. “You’ll have to wear this white one.”
“Not with this camel suit, I’ll look completely washed out. Plus I’ve got some pen on the pocket.” Andi looked at Pippa’s black blouse. “Is there any chance I can wear yours?” She nodded in earnest. “Please? I’m so sorry.”
“My what?”
“Your blouse. It’s black. I always wear black with this camel suit. Please, Pippa. I can’t go out looking like this.”
Pippa looked down at her own black blouse, quickly trying to remember the state of the bra she had chosen to put on this morning. She breathed out, relieved, but slightly embarrassed. It was her new red bravissimo with added uplift. Bought for the upcoming December party season and on its first outing today. It had been such a rush getting ready for work this morning, after her late night with Jayney, that she had grabbed the first piece of lingerie to hand. The boxed red underwear set lying on top of her bedside cabinet was the most convenient. Pippa started to undo the buttons. “I’ll expect a pay rise for this.”
“Done,” smiled Andi, pulling the ruined black polo neck back over her head. No longer did it matter if she got orange foundation on the fabric. She flung it onto the chair behind Pippa and noticed her fumbling with the buttons. Andi glanced at the clock again. “Are the buttons stuck? Let me try.” She stood still in front of Pippa and relieved her fingers. “I hate it when they make the button holes too small.” She looked up at Pippa, who was literally millimetres away. “But apparently that’s the sign of a good shirt.” Andi felt the button spring from the hole. “There, done! I’ll do the rest.”
Pippa threw her head backwards and spoke to the ceiling. “I have to say it! I can’t hold it in!” She looked back at her boss. “Andi Armstrong, standing half naked in her bra, unbuttoning my shirt. No other job will ever beat this!”
Andi laughed. “Hmmm, Andi Armstrong, unbuttoning your shirt, and revealing a very sexy piece of red lingerie!” Andi stepped backwards and smiled, allowing Pippa to pull the blouse from her arms. “Pippa Rose! Do you always wear such spicy underwear to work?”
Pippa threw the black blouse at her boss and grabbed Andi’s white work shirt. “Says you with the sexy black thong!”
Andi laughed, leaning forwards once again. She wrapped an arm around Pippa’s shoulder. “Thank you. This means a lot.”
Pippa kept her arms by her side, but still felt the sensation of Andi’s breasts against her own. She closed her eyes and dropped the white shirt.
Andi pulled away and looked at the clock. “I’ve only got about a minute. Right. Here goes.” She pulled on the black shirt and buttoned it quickly. “It’s fine. It fits.”
Pippa quickly bent down to retrieve the white work shirt and pushed her arms into the sleeves, struggling even more with these buttons. “It’s a bit tight,” she grinned, looking down at the gaping holes around her cleavage.
“It’s that lacy red maximiser bra that you’re wearing,” laughed Andi, pulling on her suit jacket and reaching for her shoes.
Pippa fingered her mass of brown curls. “I’m the one who’s meant to do the teasing. Stop making me nervous.” She grinned. “And anyway, they’re all natural.”
Andi pulled up the zips on her black ankle boots and smiled. “Pleased to hear it,” she said with a wink.
Chapter Fourteen
Andi glanced at the replay monitor to the left of the stage. Her image filled half of the screen, and Bishop Bob, in his full regalia, filled the other half. Andi was pleased with the way the borrowed black shirt complemented her suit jacket, but noticed that her skirt looked like it had ridden up slightly, so she wiggled discreetly in her seat and pulled it back into position. She swept her blonde fringe across her forehead and did a final cursory scan of the small audience; all still chatting quietly. She took a deep breath, feeling the nerves of anticipation flutter across her chest.
Hosts, Rita and Mike, were standing directly in front of the large studio camera and a runner was offering them a final sip of bottled water. They shooed the young lad away, and continued their in-depth discussion. The popular pairing were constantly subjected to tabloid, are they aren’t they, speculation, and from Andi’s position it looked like they quite possibly were. There was an intensity about their chat and a rolling of eyes from Rita which indicated to Andi a silent scolding, saved for someone more than just a work colleague. Mike shrugged his broad shoulders and turned his back on his co-presenter, signalling for the runner to bring back the drink.
The floor manager took to the stage and addressed the audience. Calling for silence as the countdown began. Andi shifted once more in her seat and looked back down at the monitor. The camera had switched focus and Rita and Mike were now full screen, standing side by side with blazing smiles and eager eyes. Andi laughed to herself. Janet had been right. Rita did indeed look like a well coiffured Princess Di and Mike did seem to resemble a slightly older and chunkier, Enrique Iglesias.
The overhead lights suddenly intensified and Rita’s familiar northern voice filled the studio. “Hello, and welcome to the Six Show.” She paused as more of the show’s introductory jingle played. “On tonight’s show we’re discussing yesterday’s vote by the Church of England which disallowed the ordination female bishops.” She paused for the chuntering to subside. “We’re going to have an audience discussion and phone in debate.”
Mike cut in. “We also have the pleasure of hearing from eighties pop sensation Sonia on her latest venture.” He turned to his co-presenter. “
Did you know that she’s from Skelmersdale in Lancashire like you, Rita?”
Rita maintained her broad smile. “I did actually, Mike, and I also know that it’s better the devil you know.” She winked.
“One of my favourites!” smiled Mike.
“We can look forward to a sing-a-long then folks!”
“Only if you’re dancing!” smiled Mike.
Rita acknowledged the whirring of her producer’s hand and glanced back down at her clipboard. “We’ll also follow our intrepid reporter, Dusty, on his latest adventure in the great Australian outback.”
Both presenters did their trademark salute to the camera and chimed in unison. “It’s the Six Show, folks.” The grand finale of the show’s jingle sounded in the studio as the hosts took their seats on the red sofa opposite Andi and Bishop Bob. Rita stayed seated, but lunged her upper body towards the fast approaching camera, speaking in a serious, newsreader-esque voice. “Yesterday, the Church of England voted against allowing the ordination of female bishops, sparking outcry from all sections of society.”
Mike took over in an equally serious tone. “The Church’s legislative body, known as the General Synod, made the decision late yesterday afternoon, with the two-thirds majority vote that was needed, falling short by just six votes.” He turned to face Bishop Bob and the red light on top of camera two started to flash. “Can I welcome the Bishop of Bognor, Bob Downings.”
There was a rapturous burst of applause from a lady sitting on the front row and a muted shuffling from other members of the audience.
Rita pursed her lips and made a frown as if she didn’t quite understand her own question. “Bishop, I gather from the televised statement you made this morning, that you’re pleased with the outcome of yesterday’s vote?”
Bishop Bob nodded solemnly and spoke in a slow voice. “The Bible teaches that men and women are required to play complementary roles within the Church.” He paused, bringing his hands together under his chin and closing his eyes.
Rita and Mike shared a nervous glance, they hadn’t accounted for impromptu praying. Rita was about to cut in when the monotone voice erupted back into life.
“The apostle Paul says in Timothy, ‘I do not permit a woman to teach or to exercise authority over a man.’”
Rita nodded and opened her mouth to speak, stopped again by an eruption similar to the climatic section of a sermon.
“And it’s not just Paul.” Bishop Bob was wagging his finger. “The apostle Peter also makes it clear that wives must submit to their husbands.”
Andi couldn’t help herself. “Sorry, but I have to cut in.”
Rita nodded, thrilled. “Do, do.” She addressed the audience. “This is Andi Armstrong, the CEO of Proud Unity and a prolific campaigner for equal rights.”
Andi nodded. “Thank you.” She looked at the bishop sitting on the chair next to her own and noticed the red light on top of camera three starting to flash. “I’m terribly sorry, Bishop, but this is 2012, and I hate to inform you, but women are already equal.” She paused as the audience started to clap. “Quoting out of date passages from the Bible to illustrate a misogynistic view of a woman’s role is simply not acceptable. Nor is the fact that the Church of this country has allowed a few members of its Synod to disrupt its slow, but applaudable, quest for equality.” Andi could feel the adrenaline flowing and continued her spiel. She looked at the bishop directly. “What is it that you’re so afraid of?”
The bishop’s silence only lasted for a split second, but for Andi it seemed prolonged, so she did something completely off the cuff. She jerked her head and shoulders forwards towards the bishop and said: “Boo.”
Some in the audience gasped while a few tittered.
It had, in-fact, come out rather more loudly than she had expected, and she had certainly not anticipated the overly dramatic shriek from Bishop Bob.
Mike turned to face the close up camera. “Andi Armstrong has just booed a bishop. Live on the Six Show.”
Andi felt herself flush. “I was just trying to illustrate that there’s nothing to be afraid of. I wasn’t expecting you to jump!”
Bishop Bob continued to fan himself, swallowing profusely and signalling for some water.
The runner bent under the camera and offered the bishop a small bottle of Evian, which he dramatically opened, spinning the lid onto his lap, and gulping with gusto.
Andi didn’t know where to look. She glanced from host to host. Both were watching the spectacle, aware of what great ratings this would make. Andi chose to lean across to the bishop and place a hand on his knee. She spoke with sincerity. “I do apologise. That was probably the worst point I have ever made.”
The bishop fluttered his eyelids and returned the bottle to the outstretched runner’s hand. He nodded solemnly. “It’s a good job I’m in the business of forgiveness.”
Andi reddened and removed her hand. “Thank you. I was just trying to illustrate that equality is nothing to be afraid of. Women are equal to men, just as homosexuals are equal to heterosexuals. People should not be afraid of people, because underneath it all, we’re all exactly the same.”
There was a loud applause from the audience, but a lady on the front row was frantically shaking her head. Mike spotted the disagreement and grabbed the foam-headed microphone from the table. “I’d like to take this into the audience, if I may.” He stretched the mic out towards the lady. “Hi, what’s your name, and what do you think about this debate? Are women equal? Should they be allowed to become bishops?”
The lady spoke with an incredibly high pitch. “Doris. And no, and no.” She took the microphone from Mike. “And can somebody please tell Andi Armstrong that she is the most disrespectful woman I have ever seen. Booing a bishop.” She narrowed her eyes and stared at Andi. “You will not be allowed to get away with this, young lady. You and your team of homosexuals forcing sin and disrepute on the rest of us.”
Mike tried to take the microphone, but the lady kept a tight hold.
“It’s disgusting. You should be ashamed of yourself. Peddling such filth.”
Mike yanked it away with force and stepped back onto the stage. “We do like to offer a rounded view of opinion here on the Six Show, but such comments are not endorsed in any way by the channel.” He looked at Andi. “I do apologise.”
The lady started to tut, but silenced herself at the threat of the floor manager pointing towards the exit.
Andi swallowed, thrown by the course of events. “People are entitled to their opinions, but there is a difference between opinion and hatred.”
The woman couldn’t control herself, standing up and shouting in her high pitched voice. “You’re a sinner. You’re bringing out God’s hatred. Don’t you realise what he did to Sodom and Gomorrah? The same will happen to you!”
Andi tried to focus on Rita who was creating a distraction by talking into the camera and detailing exactly how the vote had been lost, but everyone was still aware of the kerfuffle in the audience.
The shouting lady was finally escorted by the arm to the exit, and ejected from the studio. Rita carried on. “I want to go to the phone lines. We’ve got a caller here from London, called Lizzie.” She tilted her head to the side, as if actually listening to the phone. “Lizzie, give us your thoughts.”
The line was crackly and the voice muffled. “Andi Armstrong needs to shut up before she gets shut up.” The line went dead.
“Oh dear, Andi. This isn’t your day. I do apologise, that’s not what we thought the caller was going to say.”
Mike looked into the close-up camera. “Where’s Sonia when you need her? We need some of her loving in the studio, folks!”
Rita nodded. “I know.” She started to sing. “Cos you’ll never stop me from loving you.”
Mike looked at his co-presenter. “Shall we go to a break?”
“I think we should,” smiled Rita.
“OFF AIR,” came the shout as the producer stepped onto the stage. “Andi, I’m so sorry
. It’s just one of those days.” He hesitated. “But I think we should leave it there.”
Andi nodded. “Fine,” she stammered, getting up from her chair and walking towards the corridor. She paused and made her way back onto the stage, towards the bishop. “I really am sorry about the boo.”
The bishop nodded. “No harm done. Not to me anyway.”
Andi walked away, shaking her head at her own stupidity. What a complete and utter disaster. She pushed open the doors to the green room and the sight of Sonia practicing her latest dance routine failed to produce a smile. Walking along the studio’s corridors towards her dressing room, she turned at the sound of running feet.
Pippa raced up to her and threw her arms around her shoulders, enveloping her in a huge hug. “It’s okay. Don’t worry. It’s okay.”
Andi clung on for dear life, unaware of how emotional she actually felt. Yes, she had been called names in the past and been accused of things like devil worship and the downfall of the human race; but never on such a public scale. She inhaled Pippa’s brown curls, comforted by their familiar smell. “I’m fine.”
“No you’re not.” Pippa ushered her, under her arm, back into the dressing room, quickly pulling her boss back into their comforting hug. “Squeeze as tight as you like.”
Andi actually managed to smile. “I am.”
“You can squeeze tighter than that!” said Pippa squeezing even harder herself.
Andi started to laugh. “I’m squeezing!”
“Squeeze it out,” said Pippa, moulding her body around Andi’s. “Feels better, doesn’t it.”
Andi leaned backwards and looked at Pippa. “It does. You’re right.” She shrugged. “Was it a complete disaster?”
Pippa grinned. “Far from it. The hashtag #BooABishop is trending! It’s trending globally!”
Andi frowned. “You’re kidding?”